There are two groups of reapers in The Veil's payroll. And believe me, if you think this is some simple collect-and-store-the-souls-in- a -musty-warehouse-system, you're clearly not familiar with the fine art of death administration.

  There are the guides—members of the Soul Collection and Management Department—your usual suits that come to collect the souls of the comely ones: not so pristine souls as that of a saint, but still eligible for reincarnation. While the guards, members of the Elite Squad, are those we send to fetch the scum of the earth, the vilest of sinners they make your regular demon look like a school bully.

  Every country that flies a flag has their own Veil, and in our side of the world, we have two reaper daddies that head the two cliques: Matthew and Clarence.

  Now, when a Head Reaper personally escorts a soul to the afterlife, people notice. It's like the CEO delivering your Amazon package—deeply unsettling, and it raises a lot of questions. Because, normally, a third-year reaper can handle it just fine. Maybe a second-year if they've got supervision. Head Reapers only come out for high-profile cases—mass casualties, plagues, that sort of thing. So if one of them shows up just for you? Congratulations, or, more accurately, my condolences.

  Which is why, when Matthew, a lesser reaper named Billy, and one freshly deceased Clark Parker waltz through the double doors, all conversation in the lobby turns into hushed whispers. The suits stare. Some even give Clark an unsubtle once-over. It seems the rumor by the coffee machines is true; a rare commodity has just landed in headquarters.

  "Miss Parker, an assessor will be down shortly to process your registration to the sys—" Matthew stops as the doors of the elevator beside them open.

  He goes all stiff, as do Billy and, naturally, every other reaper in the room. Everyone stands there as if they've just seen the Pope, or worse, a government official without a form to fill out. Everyone bows in reverence to the figure that emerged.

  Now, Clark, bless her, doesn't get it at first. She's already scanning the room, trying to figure out why everyone went quiet and formal then suddenly a thought: "It's God, isn't it?"

  She proceeds to touch her forehead, then her chest to sign a cross, Matthew catches her in his sidelines, grabs her wrist mid-motion and hisses through his teeth, "No".

  "No?" Clark echoes confused.

  Matthew and Billy shake their heads to her quietly.

  "Welcome, Miss Parker."

  "Uhm. Hello." she responds awkwardly not exactly sure how to approach her.

  "I am the Chief of The Veil, please allow me." she stretches her hand to take hers, pulling her away from the reapers, "Thank you, Matthew, Billy, that will be all."

  The two bow again to her and keep still, quiet as the dead. Matthew raises his head to look at Clark one more time as they enter the elevator. He wonders who she really is. As far as he knows, she only saved a boy, they have saints before but the Chief does not go down to welcome them personally.

  "Wow. Maybe before this she saved a country or something." Billy says, "That was the Chief, and I read the last time she greeted a soul was when a woman named Mother Theresa died."

  "That's unlikely." Matthew has doubts.

  "Unless it was a country of ants," Clarence pops up behind them, his voice cutting through the conversation like a hot knife through butter. "She's frail. Tiny. Saved a country my arse."

  "Sir!" Billy greets him. "But she must be someone don't you think?"

  Clarence puts a hand on his shoulder and presses down, "Stop spreading misinformation."

  "S-sorry, Boss." Billy gulps down a cry in surrender.

  In one respect, perhaps the young reaper is onto something, because this is the first time Clarence has seen the Chief come down for anyone. The moment he returns to his office, he immediately pulls up her files

  And it is, in a word, censored.

  Entire sections, blacked out. Which means there are information about her that are above even a Head Reaper's clearance level.

  ——

  There are at least a hundred tiny buttons inside the elevator and the Chief presses the one on top. Clark stays quiet not knowing what to say.

  "I trust the journey was pleasant?" Chief turns to ask breaking the silence.

  "It..it was, yes. It was quick." she says.

  "Soul collection requires training. Young reapers usually make the souls nauseous if you can believe it. However, Matthew is our Head Reaper; you won't even feel a thing during the flight." The elevator dings, and the doors open. "This is our stop," she says, and Clark follows.

  Clarissa stands to attention when she sees the Chief appear outside her office.

  "Clarissa, hold my calls."

  "Yes, Ma'am." She opens the door and entered after them.

  Clark stops midway to scan the room and said a swear word in her mind seeing the sheer grandness of the space that screams corporate excess.

  I have the same reaction, only mine was because of the hideous decor. The inside looks like someone bought a medieval castle and threw in some tacky office furniture. The wallpaper alone could give a thousand demons nightmares—pristine and holy. You would think that with all the wealth of the Veil, they would hire a decent interior designer; instead, they got a guy named Le Vau to do it, and I bet he was drunk when he did.

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  "Please, sit." Chief says to Clark, "Clarissa will sign you in to the system."

  She hands Clark a tablet that shows her personal details and asks her to press her thumb to sign it.

  "Can I just check what's written here before I sign?"

  "No need." The Chief says, "I'm sure everything is in order."

  With hardly not much choice, Clark presses her hand on the screen. A green check mark appeared after saying she is now registered in The Veil system as an official dead person.

  As soon as Clarissa leaves the room, the Chief opens quite a thick folder in front of her and reads Clark her privileges.

  "Technically, being a Saint will move you for ascension to the heavens."

  Clark sighs, relieved.

  Well, as good as advertised. It's what your Sunday priest always says, if you don't get into Satan's naughty list, you are going to live with the angels. Personally, I don't prefer it because most of them are dicks.

  "Unfortunately, ascension has been...suspended." she adds.

  Wait, what? Say that again?

  "Suspended? For how long?"

  "For the foreseeable future. We have not sent anyone up there since the apostles. And so, to avoid some technicality, your privileges will be under an amended and renamed Noble Package—which includes immediate reincarnation with a blessed life."

  Clark looks confused, "You mean I have to go back and do all that over again?"

  "Yes. But don't worry, it is a much better life than the last one. If you want to be born to a wealthy, powerful, or famous family, we can arrange that."

  She barely made it the last time. Well, she did not make it, that's why she's dead. And now, they are asking her to go back there. She's thinking if they lied about going to Heaven, they must be lying about this one too.

  "No," she shakes her head, "I don't think I want to avail that package. I don't want to be reincarnated."

  Well, that is something unexpected. A soul refusing its VIP privilege!

  The Chief shuts the folder closed, "Miss Parker, would you like some tea?"

  I like some popcorn because things just hit a plot twist, but nobody asked me.

  The Chief I bet wants to scream. "Tea" is her code for: I want to get a pillow and shout some very bad words into it in the the break room.

  "Yes, that would be nice." Clark uncomfortably shifts at her seat.

  "Milk?"

  "No, just tea is fine."

  "Alright, dear. Why don't you take some time to think while I make us a cuppa?" the Chief goes into her personal pantry to put on the kettle as they say.

  Clark waits for her to be gone before she grabs the folder with her name on it. Like the Chief said, it really says 'Noble' in the agreement. That's why Reaper Resources issued that memo to call them that instead of Saints, because if they cannot go to heaven, they are just like every other soul. And Noble is merely a corporate euphemism for "you were scammed; we are sorry here's a nice title for you to separate you from everyone else."

  As she peruses the document, she notices a strange detail. On the page marked 13th Reincarnation, she sees her name Clark Parker; all details are correct but most of the items below are highlighted in black—redacted. Another thing is the word 'Soulmate' followed by 'Does Not Exist' (DNE).

  This isn't just a glitch in the system, oh no. This is a grand cosmic fuckery.

  Well, it is true, she has not met anyone for her happily ever after. She is too busy surviving. She checks the tab tagged "12th", and the same remark appears: "DNE." She continues checking and manages to reach the sixth, and it has the same remark for every single lifetime.

  Clark hears footsteps coming, she shuts the folder and returns to her seat, pretending like she did not just find out that she's basically a walking, talking cosmic experiment at this point with no soulmate.

  She is not the clingy type, truly independent woman. Maybe one lifetime is not an issue, but six of them (that she managed to see) says she died alone.

  And this is just between you and me, but I bet you all the other seven says the same.

  When the Chief returns with tea, as calm as a cucumber, Clark's already halfway to an existential crisis.

  "So," she starts to place the cups and pours the steeped tea, "Do I have a yes, on the package?"

  "When you mean a blessed life, does it include everything?"

  "Everything."

  "Even a soulmate?"

  The kettle mildly shakes in the Chief's hand and she sets it down. She glances at the folder on her desk and cannot escape but notice the papers peeking through.

  "Tell me, Miss Parker. What do you know about the Scarlet Connection?"

  Clark shakes her head.

  "There is a red thread of fate that binds one soul to another. It tangles, stretches, frays, but never breaks. Anyone connected to the thread is bound to meet in a lifetime no matter what. That's the Scarlet Connection that every human has."

  "Are you sure, it does not break?"

  The Chief knows her questions are not innocent. She knows she saw the files inside.

  "Maybe disconnected."

  "What does that mean?"

  "The connection works only on the living plane. Ever heard the saying, 'til death do us part'?

  The thread disconnects when you die."

  No. It means her soulmate is not on the living plane, not reincarnated. Then where did it go?

  "I don't want to be reincarnated. Can I stay here in the Veil?"

  "If a soul stays here long enough, it becomes a ghost—rogue soul. The Elite Squad will hunt you down, even if you are a former Noble."

  Then, a proposition pops in her head. She does not have to be a ghost to stay in the Veil.

  "What if I become Reaper?"

  "Miss Parker—"

  "I will work for free."

  "That is against the labour code, but that's not the point," the Chief explains, "you are a saint you cannot become a reaper."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you need a tainted soul to become one, which you don't have."

  I hate to be the one to raise a white flag on this one, but it is true.

  Only those sinful enough to be unworthy of immediate reincarnation, and not evil enough to be worthy of Hell, can become reapers. And frankly, Clark dear, you don't even have enough parking tickets, or unpaid taxes to even qualify.

  "What does it take to qualify?" she quietly asks.

  "Miss Parker."

  "You need to tell me, what do I need to do?"

  "Clark." the Chief grabs her hand, "Don't do this. There is no way for you to collect enough sins now that you are dead. The alternative...is too cruel."

  "Don't tell me about cruel." she almost whispers, "Thirteen times. Why?"

  For all her power—and believe me, she's got plenty—even the Chief isn't above certain rules. The Veil's NDAs are the sort of thing that make celestial contracts look like playground promises. Unbreakable. Unbendable. And, most annoyingly, non-negotiable.

  "I cannot tell you about that, but I can tell you of a way. You will not like it."

  "Tell me." she demands.

  The Chief exhales, like she already regrets this conversation.

  "You need to go to Hell."