There was no sound, no light, no heat, no sensation at all.

  Is this what brain death feels like?

  How long is this going to last?

  There might not even be any time here.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll make the next person visible now.”

  A cheerful female voice suddenly rang out, and I was hit with blinding light. I instinctively covered my eyes.

  “Ah, that was too bright, wasn’t it? Sorry about that.”

  “Is this… a hospital?”

  There stood a woman with black hair, tanned skin, and golden paint beneath her eyes. She wore a tight white garment. Her bangs were cut perfectly straight, and she had golden ornaments on her ears, neck, and arms.

  She didn’t look like any nurse I’d ever seen.

  She looked like she had stepped straight out of an ancient Egyptian wall painting.

  I seemed to be standing in a corridor. Parallel pillars lined the space.

  The corridor stretched endlessly white, and the pillars rose so high the ceiling was invisible.

  It felt like being trapped inside a repeating 3D rendering.

  “No, it’s not. This place is only for the dead.”

  “Huh? We’re talking normally, and I can see you clearly.”

  “That’s just a little adjustment so it’s easier for you to understand.”

  Like a simulated experience.

  “Then, may I have your name?”

  The conversation continued in a brisk, business-like tone.

  She must be busy.

  “Naoyuki Haneda.”

  “Naoyuki Haneda, correct?”

  She appeared to be searching through a bundle of papyrus.

  “That’s strange. It’s not on the list. Was it suicide? Or an accident?”

  “Doesn’t that mean I’m not dead?”

  “No, that’s not possible. Excuse me for a moment.”

  She pressed a finger to my forehead. Light poured out, projecting a massive image in front of me.

  It started pitch black, then turned dark red, then vivid blood-red, and finally pure white.

  Gradually the image clarified. A green plate and numbers appeared in the light — the bumper of a truck.

  The light was from its headlights.

  It was poor-quality footage.

  The perspective shifted to a night road, a convenience store visible beyond the guardrail.

  It looked familiar.

  Then the view dropped lower, and cat ears appeared at the bottom of the screen.

  I seemed to be trying to place something on the road.

  Placing the cat on the road and walking away.

  “I’ll rewind it now.”

  It played in reverse.

  Picking up the cat, turning my gaze right — the truck bumper filled the screen the instant everything turned bright red.

  Clearly dead.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “You saved the cat and got hit by the truck. Cause of death: head trauma, instantaneous. Do you remember?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Why did you save the cat?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “This is troublesome. Is this cat still alive?”

  “I don’t know.”

  How could I?

  I looked at the woman. She formed a triangle with the thumbs and index and middle fingers of both hands, peering through it with her right eye.

  Some kind of cosplay? Or was this some weird dream?

  “What kind of spell is that?”

  “It’s not a spell. I’m observing your world through the divine artifact called the Uraeus.”

  Uraeus — the right eye of Ra.

  The left eye is the Eye of Horus, but the right eye represents the sun itself.

  So she was watching from the sun.

  “But isn’t it night?”

  “I dislike nitpickers. Ah, you’re dead. You failed to save it. Then let’s call the cat’s soul as well.”

  She cupped her hand beside her mouth in a stereotypical barker’s pose.

  “Kitty~?”

  A huge white cat suddenly appeared before us.

  It had gray spots on its body.

  “Did you call?”

  “Oh, Bastet?”

  “Indeed, it is I.”

  “So it was you.”

  Bastet — the Egyptian cat goddess.

  “You didn’t do something to this person, did you?”

  The cat stayed silent.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  “I cast a charm asking for help… It was too bright, and I panicked.”

  “That makes it your fault. When a human dies due to a god’s blunder, we can restart them in any universe of the same grade. What kind of world would you like?”

  “Restart?”

  “Yes.”

  “From where?”

  “From birth.”

  “Then a world of swords and magic would be nice.”

  “Swords and magic, is it? Unforeseen circumstances are allowed, so you may also choose your family background.”

  “A royal family would be good.”

  “Understood. As compensation for this incident, you may choose one gift.”

  The box was filled with cards.

  I drew one. It was completely blank white paper.

  “I’ll take this.”

  She snatched the card and pressed it to my forehead.

  It slowly sank into my head.

  “Completed. Launching you into the new world now.”

  “Wait, what kind of gi—”

  The moment I spoke, I returned to the original state of no sound, no light, no heat, no sensation.

  “3… 2… 1, launch!”

  Only the voice remained.

  I seemed to have been fired off somewhere.

  There was no sense of speed because I couldn’t see or feel anything.

  “…”

  “…Huh? That’s strange.”

  She sounded panicked.

  “Huh? Hey, Bastet, it looks like I missed the target. Oh no, I missed. What do I do?”

  “I can’t do anything about it, but Maat — did you erase the memories?”

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! I forgot!”

  ◇

  The woman’s scream grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared.

  It was still pitch black.

  But now I could hear sounds, and I had bodily sensation.

  I could tell I was lying down in darkness.

  Small voices were leaking in from outside.

  “…Now this person’s soul is before you…”

  Thump thump

  “Hey.”

  “…Now this…”

  Bang bang bang

  “Hey, can someone open up? Where am I? I’m about to leak.”

  Luckily my voice worked, but it was strangely high-pitched, like a woman’s.

  I heard a commotion outside.

  No sign of the door opening, so I lifted my knees. There was a clunk, and light poured in from below.

  “Ah, it opened.”

  I pushed the lid up with my hands. Light flooded in, and with a loud thud the lid fell to the floor.

  “Eek!”

  Surprised voices rose all around.

  “What the hell? Why’d you lock me in here?”

  I sat up and looked around. Nearby stood an old man in a pointed white hat and all-white robes, frozen in shock and terror.

  Behind him were people in navy clothing, all frowning with furrowed brows, staring at me in fear.

  Their clothes looked completely unfamiliar.

  I raised my right hand. They all raised theirs in unison.

  It seemed to have worked.

  “Um… where’s the toilet?”

  In that instant, everyone scrambled back against the wall and crouched down.

  The old man in white fell on his backside, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

  “Uh… the toilet is…”

  They all pointed in one direction.

  What were they so scared of…?

  The direction they pointed had a hallway.

  I walked down it and caught a familiar smell from deeper inside.

  The smell of a public restroom.

  The clothes were hard to walk in.

  And there was a draft between my legs.

  They were a woman’s white dress.

  A dress?

  “Huh? It’s gone? Why?”

  Nothing between my legs.

  I had breasts too. This was definitely a woman’s body.

  “Why?”

  I heard a voice from the room behind me: “Something’s missing.”

  Calm down.

  First, pee and calm down.

  I opened the toilet door.

  It was a rustic countryside toilet.

  A raised platform with a hole in the middle.

  I lifted the hem.

  Thin pubic hair.

  I lowered myself.

  Urine came out.

  No doubt about it — I was female. This was real.

  There was no paper.

  That didn’t matter right now. I’d go back.

  When I returned to the room, I heard whispers: “She’s back.”

  It was the same room.

  In the center was the wooden box with its lid open, surrounded by colorful flowers.

  The walls were plain and undecorated, lit by candles.

  At the far end of the coffin stood a statue of a woman with arms spread wide.

  This was a funeral, wasn’t it?

  I had been placed inside a coffin.

  So I really had died.

  Before that, I had seen the dark-skinned woman with straight bangs.

  And that huge cat.

  Come to think of it, I thought I heard something about missing the target.

  That’s right — swords and magic, royal family.

  That’s what they said.

  I looked at the people pressed against the wall.

  They flinched and recoiled.

  “Can you understand my words?”

  They all nodded.

  They kept nodding.

  You’re going to hurt your necks.

  The old priest-like man already seemed unconscious.

  “I’m alive, though…”

  Everyone screamed and scrambled out of the building.

  I heard someone shout “It’s a monster!”

  Only one person remained — a woman with beautiful black hair tied neatly. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

  She walked up to me, dropped to her knees, looked up, and grabbed my arm.

  Then she pulled me into a tight embrace, pressing her face to my chest and crying like a child.

  It felt strangely embarrassing… but not unpleasant at all.