As Joe's anguished cries echoed through the two-way radio, my consciousness began to fade, the pain from my injuries subsided, and the cold in my limbs vanished.
"This is it. This is how death feels."
I could no longer hear Joe, feel my brother's hands on my head and back, feel him hugging me desperately, feel the warmth of his chest, or hear the timbre of his voice.
Darkness was my everything.
Then, I saw it. I had always wondered how it would be, what I would see if anything after my life was over. I always thought it was a lifetime away. "No time like the present" was not a phrase one would willingly attach to the concept of dying, right?
The faint glimmer at the end of the tunnel began as a tiny dot, resembling a dead pixel on a massive 4 K T.V. screen. Its size grew as if it steadily approached me, even though I stood perfectly still. I was sure as hell not moving at all.
So, this is the light at the end of the tunnel all those 'near-death experience' survivors spoke about. To be honest, it was beautiful and warm until it glitched.
The light vanished quickly, and an unseen force pulled me down, feeling like water going down the drain, all uncorporeal and such, you know?
So I did what any sane person would and tried to scream.
Which was stupid because I had no mouth or lungs or air here. I do not know how long I stayed in what I could only think was a cocoon of darkness without any sensory input; it could have been a second or a year; I had no way of knowing; time is relative. Strangely enough, I had a strong sense of oneness in that state. My spirit, ridden of all sensation and physical input, was laid bare to me in what was a disconcerting but intimate moment with myself.
Suddenly, the air was going into my lungs again; I had a mouth once more, and my valiant and extremely manly scream that not at all sounded like a little girl's, how dare you? It resounded on my newly reformed ears, busted eardrums back in shape.
With my eyes closed, I was repeating an old mantra I had learned some time ago:
"Please don't let it be Hell."
I gathered all my courage and opened my eyes to find myself in an all-white room. I could not tell if there were walls or a ceiling, for that matter, and could not place where the light was coming from; that's how white it was. I could only see an old wooden chair, a simple utility desk, and an old IBM personal computer from the 80s, the famous model 5150. The monochromatic screen had a blinking cursor and nothing else.
Looking around, hoping to see somebody else, an usher or a clerk or someone, I found myself all by my lonesome in the white room.
I could feel my legs move my fingers; my previously almost severed arm was in place as if nothing had happened to it just minutes ago, my shoulder was in perfect condition, and no pain was coming from my hip. There was no Rusky, though.
Taking a bold step forward, no sound came from my action, the subsequent steps taken one after another, or from me moving the chair or sitting on it. It was as if the room had a supreme noise-canceling system, which was disturbing. Still, you only realize how much sound plays a part in your sense of proprioception once it isn't there anymore.
By checking the old computer in front of me, I noticed a couple of things: first, there was no power cord anywhere to be seen; second, there was a faint beeping sound coming from it; and third, I could clearly hear how the heads of the hard drive were reading data on the disks. It seemed it was processing something. It could be installing some old-fashioned DOS program.
After what felt like hours, the computer rebooted, and when it shot down, the room went dark, only going back to annoyingly white when the 5150 turned back on. Was this reality shaped by whatever was running in the old-fashioned P.C.?
I could see a rapidly filling progress bar now, with a percentage number next to it, stopping at 99% because why wouldn't it? For some reason, afterlife I.T. woes seemed as mundane as back on Earth.
When it reached 100%, the screen filled itself with strings of code and weird symbols I had never seen before. It then started making R2-D2 noises like nobody's business, infringing some copyrights, I was sure. Does the afterlife have a legal department?
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
After the IBM PC stopped doing the R2 impersonation, the screen flickered, and a single line of text appeared at the top; as I read it, text started populating below it, as if knowing that I was reading and my progress through the text. Is there a hidden webcam here?
---Welcome to the Early Stage of System Implementation for Sector 1, Planet 3, designation Eden---
---For some reason, we cannot fathom, you, William Hagen, have been chosen by the system's proxy on the planet you know by the name of Earth---
---Since, at this stage of System Implementation, we, the System Administrators, cannot refute or disavow the proxy's choices, we cannot return you to your scheduled trip to the Silver City. Our most heartfelt apologies for the fact---
---No complaints or inquiries will be accepted at this point in time, nor in the future; we thank you in advance for your understanding, Mr. Hagen---
---As we have absolute faith in the fact that you, William Hagen, will utterly fail in surviving the upcoming system trial, we have taken the executive decision, as it is permitted to us by some loophole that we could or could not disclose to you, of not wasting our time in giving you a proper induction speech, nor explaining the myriad intricacies of the system or how to make use and thrive on it---
---We hope that you encounter a very timely second death so that you can continue onwards to the Silver City---
---Oh, and by the way, please tell the proxy that she was supposed to take your brother instead of you, maybe even one of your friends, but not you, not at all---
---Please depart with our best regards in your heart, yours truly: Biggs and Wedge, System Administrators---
---P.S. Please don't take it personally, dude. We love you, but we simply don't need you; bye!!---
The computer turned off, the room went dark, and the sensation of being spaghettified intensified times ten.
I inhaled deeply, the air feeling sharp as it filled my lungs, returning me to my senses.
The floor was cold and humid, clinging to the skin with a clammy, damp feeling; the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, the sharp taste overpowering as if I had fallen over a rock, face first, from a good height. The impact knocked my teeth together, causing my lips to split open. The pain radiated through my face as I struggled to assess the damage.
As I struggled to sit up, my body aching from the impact of the fall, I couldn't help but question whether this was all just a bad dream. The foreign surroundings only added to my confusion as I tried to piece together what had happened. Did I really get slammed off the turnbuckle at The Barn BBQ? And now here I am, sitting on a rock, spitting blood and nursing a fresh injury. It all felt like a hazy blur, leaving me torn between wanting to believe it was real and desperately hoping it was all in my head.
I couldn't believe what had just happened. Had I truly died fighting some weird, super-sized versions of E.T. The Extraterrestrial? To find myself in a room with an ancient P.C. that politely told me that I was trash and urged me to end my existence as quickly as possible? Part of me wanted to believe it was all some kind of sick joke, but deep down, I knew there was no escape from reality.
I knew that my mind was trying to find reason within conformity, that relating everything to a dream would stave off what could possibly be a state of shock or even some stress disorder; for fucks sake, I died by being mauled and dismembered by a space gorilla! So yeah, my brain was coping hard.
My fingers twitched uncontrollably, and I huddled into a ball, wrapping my arms tightly around my body. With a deep breath, I released everything I was holding on to, letting it all spill into the open. A low guttural groan transformed into a desperate scream that, in turn, gave way to a solitary, anxious wail.
In the heart of a dark, ancient forest, a solitary figure sat beneath the stars. His anguished cries reverberated through the trees, but the only witness was the silent moon, casting its pale light on the desolate scene.
After calming down, I decided to take stock of myself. My two-way radio and Rusky were missing. I had boots, jeans, and my hunting jacket on me before; now, I was wearing these linen pants and a shirt. No shoes—that was going to be a big problem.
Taking in my surroundings, I had yet to learn where I was. Missing such a massive rock in the forest near the farm was impossible. The trees and vegetation were unlike the typical flora in our little corner of Minnesota.
Looking up, I saw the night sky. The moon and the stars were more vivid than ever, and the air was filled with pressure as if the atmosphere was heavier.
Wait a minute.
I passed my hand over my left eye and noticed some kind of bug, maybe some mote of dust or something else stuck between my eyelashes. To find nothing.
What I was seeing was directly in my eye. So I did what any regular person would do when losing their grip on sanity: I tried to look at it, you know, like trying to look at something stuck in the corner of your eye.
It popped into my vision.
------------------------------------
Name: William 'Evelyn' Hagen
Human Level 1
Class: *Redacted* Level 1
Job: N/A
Grade F
H.P.: 208/240
Stamina: 160/160
----------------
Strength: 9
Agility: 10
Dexterity: 10
Endurance: 8
Vitality: 8
Intellect: 7
Class XP: 0/100
Race XP: 0/100
Job XP: N\A
------------------------------------
Why was my HP not full? Did I really just fall on top of a rock? Did the system administrators just try to eliminate me by throwing me from who knows what heights?
But more importantly, What was this? Is this part of that system implementation spiel the administrators mentioned in the white room? On top of everything, was I now part of one of those stories where the main character has a cheat or a system that nobody else has and then becomes stronger than everybody?
I panicked.
No shame, no trying to hide it, I was afraid.
Afraid I had been isekai'd into another world with a system, I was about to start my new life as a slime.