Dying wasly on Ephraim's to-do list. Well… not permaly. He was just being a little dramatid a little delusional. And maybe—just maybe—a teensy bit depressed.

  So when he very iionally swan-dived off a bridge into the deep, dark waters below, he was only mildly surprised that he didn't miraculously survive.

  Okay, fine. Maybe he wasn't all that surprised. It was, after all, airely iional decision. But now that he was experieng the very real aftermath of death, ohing ainfully clear—he had messed up. Big time.

  How did he know he was dead, dead?

  Well, for starters, he could see right through himself. More specifically, through his very blue, very cushy trai. Which could only meahing—he was now a ghost.

  Not just any ghost, though. A cssy and fashionable ghost.

  Because instead of the stunning ensemble he wore during his gra from the mortal world, he was now decked out in a painfully corporate-looking uniform.

  A deep navy button up. Bck scks. Loafers. A pid-patterned chest pocket adorned with an unfamiliar emblem—a digital globe with a cursive ed across it. And to top it all off, a tie in a lighter shade of blue, plete with a little silver tie pin engraved with the name Rachel.

  Was Rachel a brand? A secret afterlife cult? The entity responsible for this absolute crime against fashion?

  Ephraim scowled. He had expected a lot of things after death, but this? This was an offense. Who even decided that ghosts had to dress like corporate sves? Where was the drama? The fir? At the very least, they could've let him keep his final outfit. He had been so much more stylish then.

  Before he could unto a full-blown critique of afterlife fashion policies, he realized he was being stared at.

  A group of people—also in the same tragically b uniforms—were watg him with i.

  Ephraim blihen grinned brightly.

  "Heya."

  A sharp-eyed woman tilted her head. "You just died?"

  "Wow. So direct. But yes, I did, in fact, fail to survive my Olympic-worthy backflip off a 150-meter bridge."

  Silence.

  Then, one of them gave a slow nod. "At least you have a good attitude about it."

  The woman who had asked the question chuckled before casually ruffling his hair.

  "Wele to the afterlife, kid."

  Ephraim smoothed down his thhly mussed-up hair with a pout. "Thanks, I guess. It's pretty chill here, not gonna lie." He gnced around before raising a brow. "By the way, where exactly are we going?"

  He had only just noticed that he was, in fact, sitting on a train. A very full train.

  Rows upon rows of passengers dressed in the same dreary uniform as him filled the seats. They were all translut—young, old, tall, short, all genders, all kinds. And then there were the other ones.

  The pointy-eared ohereally beautiful to the point that Ephraim was sure if he stared too long, he'd willingly fall to his knees and pledge eternal servitude. The scaly ones—like the very spicuous lizard-man sitting across from him, whose massive tail was taking up more space than what robably legally allowed.

  And the weirdest part?

  They were traveling through the clouds.

  Ephraim turo the window, his fak as he processed the view. Instead of solid ground, there was… nothing. Just an endless sky in an oddly pale shade of blue ahe clouds were straoo—some normal and fluffy white, others a soft pink, and some… cubic? Like something straight out of a video game.

  And then there were the wires.

  Dozens—no, hundreds—of thin, glowing wires stretched across the sky like a massive, tangled circuit board. Ahe train passed through them with ease, as if they weren't even real. Ghost wires, Ephraim thought absently. Pun fully intended.

  "The notice boards," the woman finally answered, leaning back with an air of casual indifferehat's where all mission takers go."

  "… Yes?"

  A kid beside him, no older than fourteen or fifteen, giggled. "Mister, you're so funny! You just died, and you're ag so normal! Even asking questions like it's no big deal. Most people panic for days when they first get here."

  Ephraim nodded along, smiling brightly. Then, after a brief pause, his brows furrowed. Then he smiled again. Then he frowhetled on a mix of all three.

  "… That was a pliment, right?"

  "Of course it was!" The kid beamed before pointing ahead. "Well, we're arriving at the notice boards in a minute. Once we do, your system partner will expihing."

  Ephraim raised a brow. "System partner?"

  "Yep! You see that tie pin you're wearing?"

  He gnced down at the little silver accessory clipped to his tie—the oh Rachel engraved in delicate red text.

  "Yeah?"

  "You'll be able to unicate through that once we reach the notice boards."

  Ephraim squinted.

  …Was he about to get a tutorial AI in his ghost adventures?

  No sooner had the words left the kid's mouth tharain came to a smooth stop. With a soft chime, the doors slid open.

  Like clockwork, everyone disembarked, their movements practiced and orderly. The moment the st passeepped off, a new group of people—looking thhly exhausted—filed in to take their pce. And just like that, the trai off again, gliding silently into the vast sky.

  Ephraim barely had time to process it before arain—on the opposite track, across the ptform—came to a halt as well. Its doors opened in perfect synization, and another wave of passengers stepped out, while an equally tired-looking group took their spots inside before it departed.

  At first ghe people from the opposite train looked no different from those who had arrived with Ephraim. But on closer iion…

  They were dressed in red.

  The exact same uniform—button up, scks, shoes, tie, tiepins—but in a striking crimson shade instead of blue.

  Even the glowing track lihat had materialized beh the trains were different—blue for Ephraim's train, red for theirs.

  And then, something even stranger happened.

  The moment everyoepped off the train, their previously translut bodies solidified. One sed, Ephraim could see through his own hand; the , he was fully opaque, as if he had never been a ghost at all.

  Before he could so much as ent on the weirdness of it all, the passengers from his train started moving with purpose. Each person in blue seamlessly paired up with someone in red, f instant duos. Without hesitation, they made their way toward the massive notice boards lining the ptform.

  Ephraim watched in fasation as one of the newly formed pairs reached the board, selected a slip of paper, and—

  Poof.

  They vanished.

  Like, literally disappeared into thin air.

  And if that wasn't bizarre enough, new pairs were also popping ience right oform—looking absolutely drained, as if they had just returned from a full day of unpaid overtime.

  Ephraim blinked.

  [Mission Taker Ephraim Larkspur, you hear me?]

  Ephraim blinked and looked around. Nobody else seemed to react, which meant one of two thiher he was hearing voices (ing), or the voice was ing from…

  He gnced down at his tie pin. Bingo.

  "…Yeah?"

  [Great. Now, do me a favor— you spot a bck-haired, red-eyed, 5'5" girl standing at the edge of the ptform he first notice board? She's pying with her hair.]

  Ephraim lifted his head, sed the area, and—oh.

  "Ohhh, yeah, I see her. What a baddie."

  [Thanks, hohat's me. Wave at me real quick, let me see who I'm dealing with.]

  Without hesitation, Ephraim threw both hands in the air and waved like he was signaling a rescue chopper.

  The girl spotted him, grinned, and immediately took off running.

  And running.

  And running.

  And then—bam!

  She full-on tackled him to the ground like they were long-lost lovers in a drama finale. Ephraim, now ft against the cold ptform, stared up at the sky, reevaluating his life choices (or ck thereof).

  The girl finally pulled back, grinning down at him like she'd just rize. "Hey there, sweetie. Didn't know you'd be such a stunner. Good on you. Good on you."

  Ephraim nodded sagely, matg her deeply uanding expression. The smile of a man who pletely agreed.

  "I do try," he said, as if he had any trol over his geics.

  She cpped him on the shoulder, still smiling. "Anyway, grats! You've officially been chosen as a member of the Savior System Department."

  Ephraim stared at her. Then blinked.

  Then slowly sat up, brushing off his bzer. "Uh-huh. Cool, cool." He nodded. "Question."

  "Shoot."

  "Does this e with a sary? Bes? Because I just died, and I feel like I deserve a signing bonus at the very least."

  Ephraim opened his mouth to demand an expnation—because hello? He had just died, gotten a system tie pin, and now this woman was tag him like a long-lost bestie. The least she could do was expin—

  But before he could get a word out, Rachel snapped her fingers.

  A translut red window popped up in front of her, floating midair like a sci-fi HUD. Without missing a beat, she typed something in, swiped her finger across the s, and—

  Poof. Her window vanished.

  Instead, a new window—blue this time—appeared right in front of Ephraim.

  [Loading Data Transfer…]

  Ephraim squi it, not liking where this was going.

  And then—

  Pain.

  His mind bnked. His head throbbed. His stomach did an Olympic-level somersault.

  A tsunami of information flooded his brain like an unskippable tutorial, and for a brief, horrifying moment, Ephraim truly believed he was about to die a sed time.

  His knees buckled. His heart felt way too full. His soul briefly residered existence.

  With a sharp gasp, he blindly reached out, grabbing Rachel's shoulders like she was the st stable thing in the universe. His red-rimmed eyes locked onto hers as he rasped, "Is data transfer always this hard?"

  Rachel grinned. "Yep."

  Ephraim let out a long, suffering sigh. "Oh boy…"

  The informatioled, leaving him with an instant, prehensive uanding of everything.

  The world they were in? The tral Space—the g force of every other world, including his own.

  The people w here? Handpicked from smaller worlds, judged on their capabilities before being recruited as Missioioners or Systems.

  The job description? Vague, but very much sounding like corporate svery with extra steps.

  Ephraim closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "So… basically, I died and immediately got hired for a job I didn't apply for."

  Rachel patted his cheek. "Yup! Wele to capitalism, afterlife edition."

  Everyone in the tral Space was chosen for a field they were best suited for.

  There were various departments, each filled with individuals assigo different jobs. Some Mission Takers and Systems worked to stabilize smaller worlds, stepping in when someone died prematurely and taking their pce to fulfill an unfinished role. Others were tasked with improving dysfunal worlds, tweaking their meics so they ran more smoothly. And then there were many, many other roles Ephraim didn't feel like memorizing right now.

  Among these departments, the Savior System Department was brand new.

  It had beeed after a glit the tral Space caused a massive breakdown. Mission Takers who were in the middle of their assigs suddenly got trapped in their worlds, uo return.

  Some had it easy—if they were pying characters with happy, fulfilling lives, they could naturally finish their roles and escape.

  But others?

  Yeah, not so lucky.

  Mission Takers who had taken on disastrous roles—vilins, tragic side characters, doomed extras—ended up caught in an endless loop of misery. Every time the timeli, they were forced to relive the same suffering over and ain. Their spiritual energy slowly eroded, and if they weren't rescued in time, they would die pletely. No reination, no sed ces. Just gone.

  Thus, the Savior System Department was established.

  Its job? Rescue the trapped Mission Takers before their energy runs out.

  Some of the department's members were experienced Mission Takers reassigned from other divisions, while others—like Ephraim—were fresh recruits.

  That was the basic gist of it.

  Of course, there was a whole lot of fine print and teical mumbo-jumbo Ephraim would probably igil it became relevant. But one particur detail stood out—

  If he accepted this job, he'd be able to travel between different worlds, save trapped Mission Takers, collect Karma Points, aually reinate into a small world of his choice.

  Ephraim exhaled, dragging a hand down his face.

  He also had the option to stay in the tral Space as a full-time Mission Taker if he wanted.

  But if he rejected the offer?

  Well, he'd be reinated into a random world, in a body with a life befitting the karma he had gathered in his past existence.

  Which, uh… didly spark hope in Ephraim.

  Because if karma worked the way he thought it did, then whatever tiny, miserable amount he had accumuted in his st life would probably nd him in a situation that even the sweetest, most fiving grannies would look at and say, "Yeah, nah. Send him straight to the pits."

  Rachel tilted her head, crimson eyes curving into delighted crests. "So, I take it you accept your new position in the department and don't wanna leave?"

  Ephraim pursed his lips, giving her a long look before letting out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. Pretty much."

  Rachel cpped her hands together. "Great! Wonderful! I love an easy recruit. So, wanna move straight to pig your first rescue mission? Or—" she wiggled her eyebrows— "wanna cash in some vacay days? You did just die, after all. Hm, sweetie?"

  But Ephraim wasn't paying attention.

  His gaze had drifted to her left hand, where a wedding ring gleamed uhe lights.

  "You're married?" he blurted.

  Rachel followed his gaze befrinniedly. "Yup! My wife's super rich, super pretty, super powerful."

  Ephraim pouted. "Wow. grats."

  Rachel threw her head bad ughed. "That rea is the single most fttering thing I've seen in a while. The sheer disappoi? The absolute heartbreak? eetie. You're really that sad I'm taken?" She sighed dramatically. "I'm so touched."

  Before Ephraim could argue, she grabbed his , tilting his face this way and that as if iing him. Then, with a little twirl, she made him look around at the many people moving across the ptform.

  "Don't worry, dearie," she cooed. "You'll find plenty of pretty little things to obsess over. There are tons of us here. And in the mission worlds. And beyond." She winked. "You've been given a new shot at life, Ephraim. Sure, it's a life built on effort, destru, and just a bit of suffering, but hey—" she cpped him on the back, "—it is what it is."

  Ephraim exhaled through his nose.

  "…Yeah. Sort of." He paused. "No, actually. Very grateful."

  Rachel beamed, all sunshine and satisfa. "Good. So—whatcha wanna do now?"

  Ephraim cracked his neck.

  "Save a life."

  Rachel's smile stretched wide, bright as a supernova.

  "Wonderful."