"Ugh…" groaned Rio. "Where… am I?"
He sat up slowly, head pounding, vision swimming. Around him stretched a sight so impossible, so vast and strange, that for a moment he thought he might faint.
He was sitting in what looked like space — endless, breathtaking, and utterly alien.
Galaxies turned lazily in the distance, starlight weaving across the void in rivers of gold and violet.
The sight was beautiful, yes, but wrong.
Deeply wrong.
"How… did I get here?" he whispered, voice trembling. "The last thing I remember was… stepping onto that road…"
Oh.
The memories hit like a hammer.
The truck.
The impact.
The words he barely managed to speak.
Felix's screams.
It all came crashing back in jagged, merciless fragments.
A sea of emotions surged through him — grief, confusion, disbelief.
People he'd never see again.
Things he'd never get to do.
That date he'd never make it to.
He bowed his head, shaking, and cried until his throat hurt.
When the tears finally stopped, he sat there for a long moment in silence, breathing unevenly. Then, still trembling, he forced himself to look around again.
He seemed to be standing on a bridge made entirely of glass — suspended in nothingness. The surface shimmered beneath his feet, clear enough to see the swirling nebulae below. Just looking down made his stomach twist.
Carefully, he took a step. The bridge held. Another step — still solid. He let out a shaky breath.
Far ahead, something glimmered. A structure, faint but real. A… house? A shed? It looked wildly out of place, a patch of reality stitched onto the fabric of a dream.
"Why the hell would anyone build that here?" he muttered. "And with what — space wood?"
He shook his head, dismissing the pointless questions, and started walking.
As he moved, he checked himself over. His jeans were torn and dusty. His white T-shirt was smeared with dirt and blood, half-covered by his black hoodie — ripped at the shoulder. His phone was shattered, unresponsive when he pressed the button. A pen in one pocket. Some candy in the other. He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth. Small comforts.
The closer he got, the more his nerves prickled. The structure loomed larger, its edges too sharp, its shadow bending the starlight around it.
"What if this is a trap?" he muttered. "A death house in space. Yeah, that sounds like my luck."
Still, curiosity — or maybe desperation — pushed him forward. He couldn't just stand here and wait.
Finally, he reached the building. It looked like a small office — the kind you'd see in some suburban strip mall — except for the fact it was floating in a cosmic abyss. A flickering neon sign hung over the door, humming faintly.
Three words glowed in soft blue light:
Isekai Travel Agency
Rio blinked.
He rubbed his eyes. Looked again.
Isekai… Travel Agency?
"What the actual fuck," he muttered under his breath.
His brain scrambled to make sense of it.
Isekai. That's what you call it when someone dies and gets sent to another world.
No. No, no, no. That wasn't real. It couldn't be.
He wasn't some character in a dumb light novel.
He had a life — a good one.
A brother. Friends. A future.
He couldn't just be… dead.
Right?
Rio stood frozen before the glowing door, heart pounding in his chest.
The sign buzzed softly, as if waiting for him to decide.
And against all reason — all sanity — he reached for the handle.
"I have to go back… No matter what," he muttered, just loud enough to convince himself of courage.
Before he touched the handle, the door swung inward on its own, revealing an empty room.
…Almost empty.
At the center stood an old, mottled desk. And behind it sat — of all things — a rabbit.
An old white rabbit, wearing tiny round glasses and a three-piece suit. He was tapping his foot to some unheard tune, filling out what looked suspiciously like paperwork.
"Rio, correct?" the rabbit said suddenly, without looking up.
"Uh—yes, but… how do you know my name?" Rio stammered, caught between shock and disbelief.
"In all my years," the rabbit sighed dramatically, adjusting his glasses, "I've never seen someone offered the ability to Choose."
"What do I get to choose?"
The rabbit gave him a look that was somehow both tired and amused. "Didn't you read the sign? I've read your file, you know. Don't tell me one of humanity's brightest minds is this dull."
Rio blinked. "…Isekai," he breathed.
A strange expression — a sort of toothy grin — creased the rabbit's furry face.
"Ah, so you're not completely brainless. Good. This will go a lot faster."
"Am I… dead?" Rio asked quietly.
"Yes," the rabbit said matter-of-factly, flipping a page. "You died on the way to the hospital."
Tears welled up again, but he refused to let them fall.
"Then—"
"Before that," the rabbit interrupted, "come sit. It's rude to leave a guest uncomfortable."
With a faint pop, a chair materialized in front of the desk.
Questions filled Rio's mind faster than the chair had appeared. "How did you—"
"Don't worry about it. Sit."
Worried that he might be the next one to go abracadabra — or Avada Kedavra, to be more specific — Rio sat down.
"Well, to start… why am I here?" Rio asked.
"Hmm." The rabbit tapped his chin. "The best way to put it is this: when you died, your soul was Chosen."
"By who?"
"The Agency," the rabbit said simply. "A group dedicated to ensuring every world gets a chance at balance — at peace — by choosing people of promise as they die."
Rio frowned. "As they? Wait, you mean—"
"Yes, yes," the rabbit waved his paw dismissively, as though batting away the thought. "To be perfectly precise, you're not dead dead. It's more like…" He twirled a paw in the air, searching for the right word. "Your soul was extracted at the moment of death. Close enough to dying that it counts. A technicality, really."
Rio swallowed hard. "Can I go back?"
"Why would you even want to? Endless possibilities, worlds awaiting for you. Your every dream-"
"My dream is to go home! I'm not one of your anime-addled, deluded fools who'll drop everything and everyone I've ever know to go on some fucking quest!"
The rabbit made an odd noise — laughter?
"I never said you couldn't go home, you know," he said after he finished laughing.
Leaning forward, he added softly, "In fact, that's exactly why you're here."
Rio froze. "What… do you mean?"
The rabbit's grin widened. "You're different."
He reached into the air — literally — and pulled out a long, silver wand. With a quick flick of his wrist, the room exploded in light.
Doors appeared. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Some as large as the walls themselves, others so small only a mouse could squeeze through. A few hung upside down. Some floated. Each one unique — by shape, by make, by impossible design.
"This," the rabbit said, sweeping a paw toward the spectacle, "is the single most important Choice of your life. This will determine where you'll go — who you'll become. Perhaps even if you'll go back."
Rio stared, speechless. "My body being indisposed isn't… an issue?"
"There's no issue that can't be resolved," the rabbit said, smiling faintly. "Now…"
He leaned back, tapping his pen against the desk.
"Choose."