The first chance

“We regret to inform you that…”

Arthur stops reading right there. He knows the other parts; he knows the result even before sending the application. They always try to comfort the rare, dreamful youngsters with quotes like “we encourage you to try next time” or “we appreciate your interest.” But with Arthur, it is often just “unfortunately, we cannot accept.”

It is funny that he raises his hopes high just because they are a few days late. The corner of the room is packed with letters of rejection, not just from the military but also hospitals, police academies, technical teams… all of which have the same reason: he does not have an arm, usable legs, or a healthy heart.

Arthur goes to the clinic afterward, even though the current climate is not especially good for going outside. However, he has spent days inside; a few more hours without human interaction would drive him crazy. 

The waiting room is small, clean, but not particularly quiet. There is a muted TV across the room playing the news with subtitles. Arthur sits in the very corner of the room, trying not to shiver despite refusing a blanket that the nurse at reception offers.

He isn’t the only one here. There are also many elders and a special man across the room, one who is surrounded by cameras broadcasting the special event. He shakes hands politely with military veterans, gives motivational speeches to injured people, and hands out gifts:

Colonel Ives.

Arthur recognizes him from various documentaries: war hero at the age of eighteen, while still doing voluntary work and having high scores in academics. The kind of man Arthur envisions himself as in his dreams. He is visiting the clinic for one of his many charity events. 

Arthur goes over when all the cameras are turned off but cannot find anything to say. He settles next to Ives’ stuff, all the lovely presents from people who admire the great man.

And then, he notices the bag.

It is dark, small, in clear sight but not significant enough to notice. It looks like a purse, but too hard and shiny to be one. There are wires coming out of it, with multiple colors. Arthur realizes what it is - he’d watched videos on hidden, homemade bombs.

Tick.

That sound means three seconds left. There is no time for guards or even the war hero to detonate it. The only one near enough is Arthur.

Tick.

Another second passes. Arthur knows what has to be done. He screams:

“A bomb!”

Ives immediately understands what’s happening, then shouts:

“Stay down!”

Tick.

He jumps with what strength he has, holds on to the bomb tightly even without arms. The chair rocks sideways, skidding. Everyone lies down while holding their heads.

Then comes the explosion. It is fast, powerful, crushing Arthur’s ribcage and blowing off his flesh. But in that mere moment, when Arthur’s brain accelerates to an incredible degree before shutting down forever…

He smiles.

Arthur dies. The real hero survives.

Everything goes quiet - a silence that feels like it would kill the dead man. Arthur can’t sense his body; unlike the feeling of lying down or floating, it is more like losing grasp of something.

Suddenly, a mixture of red, green, and blue appears in Arthur’s sight, just like he is opening his eyes without eyelids. He can look around the space - nothing but chaotic colors.

“Welcome… what?”

A voice, low and large, comes from seemingly every corner.

Arthur sees a black figure. It seems to be a two-dimensional being, looking like the form of countless scribbles by a little child. Nevertheless, it can be imagined as a set of wings with multiple eyes on them. The being doesn’t walk, doesn’t float - it appears to be continuously erased and redrawn to “move.”

It takes out a box, in which there is the body of Arthur before being blown up.

“No arms, no legs, heart almost blown up even before dying. Weird, the fate attack should have killed the one with the highest potential. Unless…”

Its voice seems irritated. It looks at him again.

“Did you, by any chance, save the man known as Colonel Ives?”

Arthur tries to nod. He doesn’t have a neck or even a body, but the message still delivers.

“You… should not have done that,” the being says with a sigh.

“He is meant to die, to come to a world that needs him more,” it continues, staring at him with all “eyes” wide open. “Now an entire civilization might fall.”

“Wait, I… I can replace him!”

Arthur says, not just out of regret, but also hope.

The space trembles slightly, as if it is laughing, in a way. The godlike figure doesn’t respond immediately but keeps staring while “moving” back.

“You?” it finally speaks, slowly, as though saying the word for the first time.

“A broken soul, having nothing to offer other than the willingness to die?”Arthur doesn’t know what to say, but the answer is already in him.

“Yes.”

“I will prepare you a new body. Your consciousness will be back when the brain is usable. Now, good luck, new hero.”

Then, the space begins to twist. The box containing Arthur’s body curls, then vanishes. Thousands of thin lines appear, drawing a circle mid-space around Arthur. Then, seven rays of light with the colors of the rainbow cover his sight.

Reincarnation success.