This is a real thing that happened to me.

  One day, while I was mid-flight to Miami International Airport, and as I was desperately typing away my college's final paper, I suddenly found myself sitting somewhere else.

  The place was empty; it was a wide, endlessly vast and sterile space. It was just space, the floor, and a soft background illumination. Lights flooded the entire area without any visible light source.

  I couldn't react fast enough. It was the lack of proper sleep. I fell backward to an empty floor, still in a sitting position, like someone yanked the plane from under me.

  Still, I wasn't surprising. Not really.

  This wasn't even the worst prank someone had pulled on me.

  Then, someone spoke.

  "Hey."

  I kept lying on the ground, motionless and completely unfazed. I firmly intended to remain there for the time being. Maybe if I ignored them, they'd go away? Besides, I'm exhausted, and now laptop-less. I had nothing to keep me entertained anymore.

  I'm tired. It's time to sleep. Goodnight.

  …

  "Heeey! Don't ignore me when I'm talking!" The voice spoke with the gravity of squeaky toy.

  It was the sound of a strangled chipmunk.

  Or maybe a doll?

  "You're supposed to be shocked or awed! Not lying there. Get up! You died and were absorbed into another dimension!"

  Dead? Another dimension? Yet another corny dream caused by caffeine overdose.

  I vaguely remembered my roommate's advice. Maybe I should start loading on creatine and hit the gym.

  But I digress. This will turn into a cheesy Chinese cartoon or a Korean grinding novel if I'm not careful enough.

  Honestly I'd rather binge watch Tom and Jerry.

  "Dead How? How am I dead if I'm flying to Miami from Amsterdam right now." I said, calmly poking a hole at their statement, while still lazily lying on the floor. This is just another unserious dream.

  "Your flight is cancelled! It already exploded mid-air! Didn't you feel the blazing pinions in your final moments?"

  I cringed at the delivery from Chipmunk Voice. This was turning morbid, and I'm not fond of Twin Peaks. I forced myself upright to get a better look at the speaker. As I did, I blinked, and the surreal nature of the situation finally started to sink in.

  It was a formless vortex. A swirling mass of energy. Cheap plastic glitter swung from its edges. At its center sat a single human-like eye—or maybe something pretending to be one. It blinked, squinted and narrowed, oddly expressive for an eyeball.

  "Well, won't you ask me if this is heaven or hell?" It asked.

  "No, not really, I think I know where I am right now."

  —Somewhere without chores nor stupid paper to write! That's for sure. I relaxed.

  The vortex formed two vaguely arm-shaped appendages, one took out… a smartphone. It looked like an iPhone that hadn't been released yet, and probably won't hit the stores for another decade. A nasty crack ran across its touchscreen, and many cartoon keychains and stickers hung around the protective case.

  The vortex started scrolling with its 'thumbs'.

  "Look, look here. This was the exact moment your plane exploded! You can even see the frames prior to the collision. You won't see footage like this anywhere else!" They said excitedly.

  It was definitely my plane colliding mid-air with another aircraft. The impact instantly burst into a colossal fireball.

  "Sick midair collision. A freak accident and colossal failure of unimaginable magnitude by everyone involved that day. No one survived." They added, gleeful like an edgy teenager, trying to get a rise out of someone else by showing something completely inappropriate. "Want to see the gory bits? Like when you got vaporized into gory chunks?"

  "Ugh no. I'd really rather not, thank you." I replied, grimacing. "Who … are you anyways?"

  "My name is Vertigo." They said, bowing with an exaggerated flair. "I am the passageway between worlds."

  "Cool, is that like your title? Are you a god or something that humans worship?" I asked skeptically. I wonder if people were disappointed to end up here.

  "No, no, I'm nothing like that." They said, disinterested, while scrolling through their phone. "I like to think of myself as an Alien invader, kind of, if you want to put it that way."

  "…What do you mean by that?" I asked, uneasy now.

  Vertigo ignored me, and continued.

  "Let's see, this is your "Curriculum Vitae, Lukas Stanovic." Vertigo tapped through the screen, their singular eye squinting comically. "Hmm .., honestly, not much to work with."

  "Huh"

  "Well, it says here you didn't earn any notable qualifications in school, and uhhh…" Vertigo scrolled lazily through the smartscreen, flipping through my life like a Twitter thread.

  "Hmm… you weren't particularly athletic at any point, you don't have any standout friendships, no relationship to speak of—that means no girlfriend. You're not rich, nor from an influential family, you haven't suffered any major hardships either. Says here you mostly spend time passively consuming media and posting media threads huh—videogames, shows, that sort of thing.”

  Vertigo kept going, unimpressed.

  "Lets see… your academic records are sub-par—even for the college you're at…”

  "Hey! I have good qualifications," I suddenly snapped, though I was just being defensive. "I'm just demotivated because the economy's in the gutter and everything's falling apart, thanks to austere neoliberal policies!"

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Another victim of Thatcher and Reagan I guess." They muttered, unimpressed, still doomscrolling through my life.

  "Right exactly! If I had my proper shot at life, I could do great things! Like, you know, if I had great talent from the jump, cheat codes for life, rich and loving parents, and a harem of beautiful babes. All that, the whole package.”

  By this point, I was just spitballing nonsense to keep the conversation flowing. This felt dangerous, but I figured humor might defuse it.

  "You know how popular reincarnation stories are these days—godlike skeletons, little girls blasting through the World-War in Eastern-Europe..."

  "You’re a real sleazeball you know that." Vertigo interrupted me with a sigh. "I can't believe, you actually said: I want a cozy farming life, free of worries."

  One of their arms spun in a circle near their head. It was saying: You're nuts.

  "You're a real goober, you know. You're not supposed to say your wishes out loud. What do you think would happen if I were, say, a Djinn? Or, I don't know, Pinhead?"

  "No no please, I'm just trying to lighten the mood." I pleaded quickly. This whole conversation was spiraling out of control, and I needed to prevent it from escalating further. I avoided the subject altogether. "What happened to the others passengers on the plane?"

  "I already sent them on their way." They said offhandedly. "Most of them had strong attachments to life, or held solid beliefs about the afterlife. I had a pleasant conversation with each and every one of them. Their time was preordained, and I believe they're now content and at peace. By now they'd have reached a much better place.”

  I was vaguely relieved Vertigo didn't specify 'where'.

  But now, they were pointing at me. "You on the other hand… you're an outlier. You weren't even supposed to be on that plane. Like, at all." The eyeball was frowning, or appeared to do so.

  "Come again?" I asked but Vertigo simply ignored me.

  "Honestly, I don't know what to make of your case. You don't fit any category in my books—that's not good for your information. According to this statement"—they tapped a paragraph on their phone—"your lifespan runs from late thirties to ninety-eight. So you had at least another decade to go.”

  Vertigo tucked the phone away—somewhere—disappearing along the curves of its swirling glitter. To them this was just a casual chat, the kind you'd have with a co-worker in a public café… except it would determine the fate of my soul.

  I shuddered at the thought of my life being in the hands of an edgy teenager who doom-scrolls through Twitter all day.

  "You know" Vertigo said. "Archiving a file is akin to telling a story. Each and every story has a beginning, followed by chapters organized in a sequential—and meticulous—order, and a concluding statement. What I'm doing now is the same as organizing a CV archive. And you—are like a stubborn wad of gum stuck to the bottom of a binder.”

  That… sounds really bad.

  Vertigo kept going. "About your flight. First of all, your schedule is so messy you've accidentally cheated fate! Which, by the way, isn't doing you any favors. Weren't you supposed to go to a friend's wedding?"

  "They're just an acquaintance," I replied. "I didn't know them that well, and I didn't feel like going."

  "See, that's your problem," Vertigo sighed. "What if you did go to the wedding and your friendship deepened, leading to a life full of adventures? You half-ass everything but later refuse to take any responsibilities. Yet you expect to avoid any consequences for your actions." They facepalmed and paused briefly. Afterwards, they continued with a softer tone. "Listen, let's not get too depressed. I don't want to kick you while you're down. Sorry for calling you a loser and all."

  "Ah.. Nah it's all good. Don't worry about it." It did sting.

  "Well let's go through some of your strengths and aspirations instead, shall we?" They pulled out a tiny notebook and donned a pair of glasses—it had two lens, designed for a pair of eyes, so Vertigo's curious single eye saw directly through the bridge.

  "You like repetitive tasks and can lock in whenever something grabs your attention. You're also incredibly thorough with details, and with a little bit of training, you'd make a fantastic administrator."

  Yep, I'm basically already that person. That's literally me. Based.

  "You're also creative. You like magic and magical literature—which I quite actually enjoy, as well."

  Not proud to admit, but I do consider myself as a creative visionary. Someone with a vast imagination, sure why not.

  "You've read a lot of history, and consider yourself a history nerd. And it says here you identify with righteous causes."

  Yep yep. Peace, land and bread — all those good things.

  "Your main aspiration is to land yourself a secure government position. A stable, permanent employment. It's not the most glamorous job and not the highest paid job either, but it's not stressful—and as an added bonus, you won't ever have to worry about the job market.”

  Maybe a far reaching dream with the ongoing budget cuts… but yeah, looking for stability in a chaotic market is just smart.

  "If I had capital, I'd invest in government bonds for sure." I added, confidently.

  "Other aspirations include unionized roles, police officer, federal agent, bureaucrat… you're not really one to stir troubles. Hm.."

  Vertigo pondered, it was unusual for them to met a chaotic entity full of contradictions. Then, with a fingersnap and with an oddly fair tone, they said: "You're really special Lukas. What if I tossed you into a videogame as an NPC?"

  "What? No. That's absurd. I'm trying to be the Main Character here."

  "… That's the problem. I've met Main Characters before. You're not one of them. Honestly? You're not even background noise at this point.”

  I tried gambling from a different angle. "What if re-tried my life—a restart but with all my memories intact?"

  "No. It won't be of any use to you. You lack initiative. Even with a second chance, you'll eventually flounder, one way or another."

  "That’s not fair. Surely there's a moderate position? A situation where you choose a lesser-of-two-evils? A compromise?”

  Vertigo frowned their eye and exhaled through a non-existent nose. They pulled out an itinerary, flipped through it a few times, and put it away.

  "Fine. Let's spin the wheel then."

  "What?"

  Behind me, something massive suddenly sprung to life—it had a deep mechanical sound, and rushed with the force of a million stars.

  I turned around, it was a colossal structure, shaped like a roulette wheel. Its sheer size defied reason. It loomed beyond the horizon: I could barely see its curvature from the sides, and it was meaningless to try and find the highest point.

  Eerie symbols, glyphs and faces. The wheel had notorious carvings, carrying ominous connotations. For the first time in my life I felt an instinctive sense of rejection. I did not want to continue this game, nor to find out where any of these symbols led. The last thing I want is to play Russian roulette with the cosmos.

  "Wait—wait! There's been a mistake!" I shouted, panicking. "This isn't a joke to me, I swear!" My heart was racing as I gasped for air. "I will try harder!"

  Suddenly, the wasted years, the missed chances, the anguish and burnout, endless months of waiting and drifting. All of it crashed over me like a lightning bolt. It was a fleeting sense of transcendence, to realize that nothing compared to a life worth living.

  Surely there's a better way to settle this dispute. "Please! Give me another chance. I won't mess it up this time. I'll take life seriously—I promise!"

  The wheel slowed. Or maybe it quieted down. I wasn't sure.

  Vertigo looked at me with quiet severity.

  "Do you mean what you say?"

  "I do", I said without hesitation.

  "I think I know where to send you," They said. "There's an opening in 3981. It's slightly different from your world, but it'll do for now. You won't stand out too much and you won't cause too much trouble. Mind you, if you come back you won't go to the afterlife—at least not until you've met the minimum criteria for your lifespan. If everything goes by the books, you should come back in about a decade."

  What else could I do? I stood straighter than ever before and gave a deep bow, genuinely grateful for this decision.

  "I will kindly accept this opportunity."

  "Stay low and keep yourself out of trouble, got it? I don't want you to cause a big stink after everything I've done for you." Vertigo stated clearly. The cartoonish voice had shifted, it carried a severe timbre, one who decided on my final verdict.

  The wheel was long gone by now, and the ground was disappearing beneath me. The illumination was fading away. Soon, this imaginary space would be completely gone.

  "Remember, one decade. At the minimum." She pointed at me. "If I see you before then, I will toss you into the infinite void."

  I flinched, then nodded. "I understand, I won't disappoint you."

  Vertigo's voice swung, faintly.

  "Do your best. After all, life is but a river, and you are but a ripple in a vast ocean; a fleeting curiosity, but one who carries a profound significance in its fleetingness. All moments that have existed before will exist again, locked in an endless struggle. Don't cling to your form, but seek to become the current. … You should not come back, and don't make me see you here ever again."

  I couldn't respond in time.

  The vortex named Vertigo tore through space and opened wide, baring its hidden fangs, and lunged forward—vicious, like the maw of a colossal beast. Then, space itself twisted, and flickered, warping into a spiral of melted distortions.

  I tried to scream, but my mouth refused to open.

  Then—I was somewhere else.