Arjun Malhotra was having a perfectly normal bad day when he died.
The instant noodles were soggy. The rain was personal. And customer support had just said the words that pushed him over the emotional cliff.
"Sir, please restart the app."
"I have restarted the app," Arjun said, standing at the edge of a crosswalk, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. "I restarted the phone. I restarted my life choices. The money is still missing."
"Sir, forty rupees is a very small amount—"
"It's not about the money," Arjun snapped. "It's about justice."
The pedestrian light was red. The traffic was loud. The universe, apparently offended by the word justice, decided to intervene.
There was a horn.
A blur of metal.
And then—nothing.
No pain. No dramatic life review. No slow-motion apology to his parents.
Just silence.
Arjun opened his eyes.
He was standing.
That was already suspicious.
The second suspicious thing was the room.
It was enormous, white, and empty in a way that felt aggressively expensive. No walls—just endless space. Floating golden symbols drifted through the air like decorative screensavers. Somewhere, a bell chimed, as if reality itself was trying to sound professional.
In front of him sat a woman behind a desk.
The desk was also floating.
The woman looked tired.
She had silver hair, sharp eyes, and the kind of posture that said she had explained the same thing to idiots all day and was seconds away from quitting divinity.
She glanced at a glowing clipboard.
"Arjun Malhotra," she said flatly. "Age twenty-three. Cause of death: vehicular impact while arguing with customer support over a forty-rupee double charge."
Arjun raised a hand. "Before we continue—did I win the argument?"
She stared at him.
"…No."
Arjun sighed. "Figures."
"Welcome to the Interdimensional Transit Authority," she continued. "You are deceased."
He nodded slowly. "Okay. So this is the part where I panic?"
"You may, but we're on a schedule."
"Right. Of course. So—" He looked around. "Heaven?"
"Administrative limbo."
"Huh. Hell?"
"Upper management."
"…Reincarnation?"
"Yes."
Arjun straightened. "Nice. Isekai rules, right? I get cheat skills? Overpowered magic? A legendary sword that only responds to my emotional trauma?"
The woman pressed a button on the desk.
A large translucent screen appeared in front of him.
Candidate Classification:
Ordinary Human
No notable achievements
Excessive sarcasm
Mild anger issues
"…That feels targeted."
"You were selected because you were available," she said.
"That's worse than being chosen."
She tapped the screen again.
Assigned World: Aetherfall
Survival Probability: Questionable
Assigned Talent: UNARMED COMBAT PROFICIENCY – ADVANCED (MARTIAL PATH)
Arjun squinted. "That's it?"
"Yes."
"No infinite mana?"
"No."
"No legendary bloodline?"
"No."
"No system voice in my head?"
She paused. "Do you want one?"
"…No. I've met myself."
"So," Arjun said carefully, "my special power is… punching?"
"You punch efficiently," she corrected.
"And magic?"
"You can learn it."
"But."
"But it will hate you."
Arjun stared at the screen. "So everyone else throws fireballs, and I throw hands."
"Correct."
"That seems unfair."
She leaned forward. "Life was unfair too."
"…Point taken."
She slid a glowing document across the desk. "Sign here. Please refrain from suing the gods."
Arjun signed. "If I die again, do I get a refund?"
She didn't answer.
The floor vanished.
He woke up face-down in mud.
Cold, wet, dignity-destroying mud.
Arjun coughed, spat out something that might have been dirt or might have been a small bug, and rolled onto his back.
The sky above him was purple.
There were three moons.
One of them was cracked.
"Okay," he muttered. "Either I'm dead, or my phone finally updated."
He sat up—and immediately felt it.
His body was… wrong.
Lighter. Stronger. Balanced in a way he'd never been before.
Before he could panic properly, something growled.
The bushes ahead rustled.
A creature stepped out—low, muscular, all teeth and claws. Like a wolf that had gone to the gym and made bad life choices.
Arjun's brain screamed.
His body didn't.
He moved.
Sidestep. Palm strike. A sharp kick that landed perfectly under the creature's jaw.
The monster flew back and crashed into a tree.
Arjun froze.
"…Oh."
A grin spread across his face.
"I punch well."
Five more emerged from the bushes.
The grin died.
"Okay," he said. "Statistically, this feels excessive."
They lunged.
Arjun braced himself—
—and an explosion tore through the clearing.
Fire. Smoke. Screaming.
The monsters scattered like they'd just seen a tax officer.
A girl stood atop a rock, staff raised triumphantly.
She wore a tattered cloak, had wild hair, and looked way too proud of herself.
"BEHOLD!" she shouted. "I CAST—"
The staff sparked.
Backfired.
She flew backward and landed flat on her face.
Silence.
Arjun walked over and offered a hand.
She looked up, grinning. "Hi! I'm Mira. I'm a mage."
"…You just exploded yourself."
"Yes."
"…Is that normal?"
"Unfortunately."
Arjun glanced at the fleeing monsters, then back at her. "So. New world. Magic. Monsters."
She nodded. "You're new."
"I died over forty rupees."
"…Rough."
They stared at each other.
Somewhere in the distance, something ancient shifted.
And far above them, in a white office that smelled like paperwork and regret, a tired goddess paused mid-sip of coffee.
"Oh no," she muttered. "He survived."
—END OF EPISODE 1