Dying is stupid.
But dying of a brain aneurysm while trying to fix a code error at three in the morning is, objectively, the most pathetic way to end a life in the world.
It was the biological equivalent of a bird dying for trying to fly too high without being able to breathe.
Thomas was focused on the screen. A video game company had sought him out for a specific task: eliminate a balancing bug. High-level players had discovered the Flame Cancel.
By cutting the attack animation at the first frame, the heat stayed stuck to the character model. It was a flame that didn't emit temperature outwards, functioning like an armor that absorbed damage.
"It's just a logic error. If the code were perfect, these kinds of tricks wouldn't exist." murmured Thomas while adjusting the code's functions.
He felt ridiculous dedicating his intellect to chasing a digital flame that refused to obey the laws of physics. He spent his last hours of life trying to erase a flame that didn't burn.
Thomas felt a prick behind his eyes before the monitor disappeared.
"How lamentable. You died without even finishing that code." Suddenly a dry, echoing voice was heard, as if several voices were speaking at once from different directions.
'And that voice so repulsive?', thought Thomas. He tried to move, but he couldn't feel his limbs.
Although Thomas had his eyes open, he saw nothing. He tried to move searching for the origin of the voice.
"Am I in a hospital?"
The voice continued.
"Repulsive? Your thoughts are like subtitles for me, you know?"
The voice said it in a clearly angry tone.
"That attitude tells me you are not fit for paradise. You will be recycled."
"Recycle? Who are you? Hey, who are you!" grumbled Thomas.
"There is a vacancy in a distant world. A body that just became empty because the original owner was as much of an idiot as you. You will transmigrate there. Enjoy your new life, engineer."
"Shut up already and listen..." His words were interrupted.
Thomas felt a violent tug, as if he were being sucked through a hose. His consciousness shut off all at once.
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Thomas opened his eyes.
He wasn't in his room. The ceiling was of black stone and the air suffocated him. He tried to get up, but an unbearable burning ran through his stomach.
His stomach growled.
"Why am I so hungry?" he grumbled. "I ate just a bit ago."
"Miss Zelyn! You've awakened!"
A girl leaned over him. She had small, dark horns peeking out from her hair.
"What the fuck?!" Thomas backed away, hitting his head against the headboard of the bed.
"M-miss Zelyn… what's wrong, does something hurt?"
Thomas was startled. Strange and, for the most part, blurry memories flooded his mind upon hearing the voice.
"Who are you and why do you look like that?!" he shouted, shocked.
"A demon?" he murmured, turning his head everywhere while observing the place.
"Calm down, Miss Zelyn. We are in the recovery atrium. You were unconscious for two days." She said with watchful eyes, slightly reddened.
"Two days? Atrium...?" he murmured.
'Why do I feel so small?' he thought. 'And even worse… why does my own voice sound so soft and delicate?'
Thomas got up from the bed, restless, but something stopped him.
He saw his reflection in the window.
First the horns. Then his face.
It wasn't the face of a twenty-four-year-old guy who didn't sleep because of programming. It was the face of a girl with delicate features, violet eyes and black hair that fell over her shoulders.
"No… no. Wait. This isn't me."
He brought his hands to his face. His fingers were thin and delicate, but over them, running along his hands and arms, the trace of charred dirt spread.
He lowered his gaze toward his chest. The panic doubled upon noticing the volume under the silk robe.
"WHY DO I HAVE… THIS?!" WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY BODY?!"
A timid voice sounded at his side.
"Miss Zelyn, calm down!" The girl wrapped her arms around his head, pressing it against her chest. "I was sure you would wake up..." She showed herself genuinely relieved.
Thomas was trapped between the girl's arms. His programmer mind short-circuited. He pushed her by the shoulders, separating her.
"Let go of me, demo...!" His voice cut off.
Memories, like sequences of lines of code, executing at the same time, hit his mind in a flash.
'Zelyn? Ah... now I understand. This is what that shitty voice meant when it spoke of transmigration... But demons?' Thomas thought to himself while looking at the girl.
'Demons… She is a demon. And now I am…'
Thomas kept his face serene, forcing a calm he didn't feel.
"Do you feel better now, Miss Zelyn?"
The girl smiled at him. She had slightly flushed cheeks.
"...Circe?"
"Yes, Miss Zelyn?" she responded with a warm smile.
'I see, that's her name'
Then Thomas understood, those memories weren't his but of the body he was now occupying.
He reflected for a second.
'If they discover me now, I'll be in trouble. First I must know about this place.'
"It's nothing. Sorry for scaring you." Thomas responded.
"Don't worry… Surely you're still shaken, Miss Zelyn."
'But what happened to me? Was that shitty voice that brought me here a deity?'
'He just wanted to fuck with me...'
Thomas Adams no longer existed. His identity was now Zelyn. A demon girl who looked like she came out of a high-quality game.