Help! It's Raining Traffic Victims

When people complain about their plans being derailed, I think I’d rather mine not be literally. Trust me, a train derailment is a hell of a way to punch your one-way ticket departing from London.

The first thing I noticed after the crash—besides the fact that I wasn’t having an out-of-body experience—was the noise: a low hum of murmured conversations mixed with the occasional scrape of chair legs against the tile floor.

The air buzzed with a restless energy, amplifying the hollow vastness of the room and making it feel emptier than it actually was. The second thing was the chairs—endless rows of the damn things, each designed with the sole purpose of making your arse regret every life choice that led you here.

Limbo, as it turned out, wasn’t some ethereal plane of existential enlightenment. No choirs of angels or grand stairways leading to celestial realms awaited me.

Instead, it was this—a bureaucratic nightmare that smelled faintly of regret and old coffee, with the unappealing charm of a soulless DVLA waiting room. A massive number system loomed over us, the display flashing “#000238” in bold red. My ticket? #041103.

I sighed and slumped back into my seat, staring at the crumpled piece of paper in my hand. Death, it seemed, was a lot like life—full of waiting.

Reflecting on my untimely demise wasn’t helping. I’d always imagined something poetic when my time came. A dramatic moment, a poignant last line.

Instead, I’d been a commuter casualty, part of the evening news’s death toll after a train derailment in London.

My thoughts were interrupted by a flash of movement. A little girl with blonde hair and wide blue eyes was trying—and failing—to reach the ticket dispenser. She was so small, the machine might as well have been the Tower of London.

“Need a hand?” I asked, my voice raspier than I intended.

She froze, looking up at me like a startled deer. Then she nodded, clutching the hem of her dress.

I stepped forward, tugged a ticket free, and crouched down to her level. “Here you go, sweetheart. Let’s see your number. Don’t want you getting stuck back there in line, do we?”

“Um, I don’t know.” She fidgeted with the edge of the ticket, her small hands trembling slightly. “My name’s Emily. I’m seven. What’s your name?”

“Hi Emily!” I said, trying my best to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m Brett. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for helping me. I… I guess I lost,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I was in the hospital for a long time. They said I had something called leukemia. It made me tired and sick a lot.” She looked down, clutching her dress tightly.

“One day, I just... didn’t wake up. And now I’m here.”

My heart ached as I knelt down beside her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. “That sounds really scary, Emily,” I said softly, meeting her wide, uncertain eyes. “You must have been so brave for such a long time.”

Her lip quivered, but she nodded. “I tried to be. My mom and dad… they were so sad all the time. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

I gave her a warm smile, ruffling her hair gently. “You’re stronger than most grown-ups I know, you know that? And listen, you don’t have to be brave all by yourself anymore. You’ve got me now, alright? Big brothers are good for things like that.”

Her eyes brightened a little, and she managed a small smile. “Really? You’d be my big brother? I've never had a big brother...”

“Absolutely,” I said, standing and offering her my hand. “And rule number one of having a big brother: snacks fix everything. Let’s find somewhere to sit and grab a bite. Waiting’s always easier with crisps.”

Her face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. We found a corner of the waiting room that felt slightly less oppressive, sharing packets of biscuits and small talk. Emily’s laughter—light and unrestrained—made the place feel less suffocating, like a sudden burst of sunshine breaking through heavy clouds.

Her blue eyes sparkled with an innocence that seemed untouched by the circumstances, and it struck me how much she reminded me of my youngest sister back home.

For a moment, I felt a pang of sorrow that she had such a short life, but that sorrow quickly shifted to determination. I couldn’t give her back her life, but maybe I could help Emily feel safe in this strange place.

“You know,” I said, holding out a packet of biscuits, “these are some of my favorite snacks.”

Emily looked at the packet with a puzzled frown. “Are these crisps?”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Uh, these aren’t crisps. They’re biscuits.”

Her frown deepened, and she tilted her head. “But biscuits are, like, fluffy and you eat them with gravy.”

I laughed, realizing the cultural mix-up. “Right, American, aren’t you? Biscuits, to me, mean these. Cookies to you.” I handed her the packet, watching her face light up in recognition.

“Ohhh, cookies! Why didn’t you just say that?” she teased, taking one and nibbling on it. “You’re weird, Brett.”

“Hey, I’m not the one calling biscuits fluffy. That’s on you,” I said with a grin, ruffling her hair. She giggled, her laughter lifting the oppressive weight of the room even more.

After what felt like an eternity, our numbers were finally called. A man in a too-crisp uniform escorted us to a door that opened into a bizarrely cozy office. Cozy, if you overlooked the absolute chaos.

Papers and empty snack bags were scattered across every surface, and a slightly pudgy man with shoulder-length black hair was slouched on a mismatched couch, sipping a soda. He wore a tracksuit that screamed “lazy Sunday,” and yet there was something unnervingly magnetic about him.

“Right, you two must be Emily and Brett,” he said, gesturing with his soda can. “Welcome to Limbo… or, well, my little corner of it.”

“You’re joking,” I muttered under my breath.

“Nope. I’m Naki. Think of me as your guide, or the guy who drew the short straw in the celestial lottery.” He grinned lazily.

Emily giggled, and I shot her a look that clearly said, “Don’t encourage him.”

We weren’t alone for long. Two more people joined us. The first was a silver-haired woman with tanned skin, who looked to be in her sixties. She walked in with the confidence of someone who’d seen nonsense before and had no time for it.

“Qué es esto? Un lugar de locos,” she muttered, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She sat down with a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “No entiendo cómo funciona esto.” Her voice was warm but carried an edge of bemusement.

The second was an Asian girl who was probably about my same age with black hair and brown eyes, who glided into the room with the poise of a performer about to take center stage. Her stylish ensemble and immaculate demeanor screamed celebrity.

“これは何のドラマ？” she asked, her voice soft but unmistakably curious as she adjusted a lock of her glossy black hair. Her golden eyes flicked toward us with polite interest.

Emily looked up at me, her confusion mirroring my own. I glanced at the two newcomers, listening to the silver-haired woman mutter something in rapid Spanish and the other—an Asian woman with striking golden eyes—speak softly in Japanese. Though I couldn’t understand a word, their tones gave me enough to work with. “She’s definitely Mexican,” I whispered to Emily, nodding toward the silver-haired woman. “And her? She’s Japanese.”

Emily tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “How do you know that?”

I shrugged. “The languages sound familiar enough. Spanish is fast, kinda rhythmic, and Japanese has this... melodic flow to it. But don’t quote me on it—I could be totally wrong.”

Emily giggled. “You’re just guessing.”

“Well, I’m not getting any subtitles,” I said with a grin, earning another laugh from her.

“Relax, I’ve got this,” Naki said, switching effortlessly between Spanish and Japanese to respond. His deadpan delivery somehow managed to charm both women. The silver-haired woman tilted her head slightly and said, “Esperanza,” her voice carrying a warmth beneath its sharpness. The younger woman, with a graceful nod, added, “Akari,” her tone light and confident.

I caught their names and turned to Emily, whispering, “Esperanza and Akari. Got it. At least we can call them something now.” Emily nodded, giving me an approving smile as if I’d cracked some grand code. Meanwhile, both women looked at us briefly, as though trying to size up their new companions.

Once we were all settled, Naki clapped his hands, sending a stack of papers toppling to the floor. “Right, so, here’s the deal,” Naki began, leaning back lazily and waving his soda can like a pointer. “I was tasked with creating a new world. Telvya. Plants and animals? Easy. Sentient beings? Eh, too much effort.” He took a long, dramatic sip from his soda before continuing with a shrug. “So, I outsourced.”

“Outsourced?” I repeated, blinking.

“Yeah, Goddit.com. Great reviews, by the way. Anyway, you lot are going to be my Welcoming Party.”

Esperanza leaned forward, her voice sharp and incredulous, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her brow furrowed. “¿Qué estás diciendo? Nos trajiste aquí para hacer tu trabajo?”

Akari tilted her head, a playful smile on her lips. “私たちはあなたの従業員ですか？それともただの駒ですか？”

Emily frowned, clutching my sleeve. “I don’t understand… what do we have to do?”

“You get immortality, cool skills, and a fresh start. But, uh, there’s a catch,” Naki said, avoiding Esperanza’s piercing gaze.

“Oh, of course there is,” I muttered.

Naki gestured dramatically to the corner, where a gaudy contraption glowed like a Las Vegas slot machine on steroids. Swirling lights, a massive lever, and even a jingle playing faintly in the background.

“Behold, the Gacha Machine,” Naki said, grinning. “Your new forms will be determined by this bad boy.”

Emily was first. Her hands trembled as she reached for the lever, a nervous energy radiating off of her. She pulled it down with a sharp click, and the machine sprang to life.

The lights flashed erratically, blinding me for a second, and when they finally settled, a card shot out. Emily hesitated before grabbing it, her fingers trembling as she looked at it, her breath catching in her throat.

“Bunny-girl. Cute,” Naki said, grinning as he handed Emily the card. I could see her face light up with a shy giggle. She looked at the card, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. And then it began.

Fluffy, white bunny ears sprouted from her head, twitching slightly as they grew, almost as if they were alive. Her posture shifted, too, her shoulders rising a little as her movements became more fluid, more graceful, like she was becoming lighter, almost floating.

I blinked as her hair lightened in color to a snow-white , turning into soft, silken strands that cascaded gently down her back. She looked like she’d stepped out of some fantasy world, and despite her nervousness, she also looked... completely adorable!

Akari was next, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she stepped up confidently to the lever. There was no hesitation when she pulled it—she practically yanked it with dramatic flair. The machine groaned and whirred, finally spitting out a card that she barely even looked at before bursting into laughter.

“私は元々猫が大好きだから、これは完璧ですね” she declared, clearly pleased with the result.

Before I could even process the card, her body began to change. I could feel the air shift around her as she shrank just a little, her frame becoming more lithe, more feline. Her black hair grew even more voluminous, turning into a bright shade of red. Her eyes... her eyes were no longer human.

They gleamed a brilliant yellow with slit pupils, sharp and intense, like a cat ready to pounce. And her tail—her tail?—suddenly appeared, sleek and furry, swaying behind her in perfect rhythm with her movements.

She stretched, her body fluid and graceful, her sharp claws flexing in the air like she was testing them out. She looked like a creature from a dream, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Esperanza was next, but she hesitated. I could see her lips moving as she muttered a prayer under her breath. There was something calm and almost sacred about the way she approached the machine. Her fingers brushed the lever, and when she pulled it, the machine groaned and clanged before revealing a large card.

She stared at it for a long time, her face unreadable, before she spoke, her voice soft but tinged with disbelief. “Bueno, esto es… inesperado.”

Then the transformation started. I watched, my heart pounding, as her body began to stretch—no, grow. Her figure elongated, her legs lengthening, her body becoming broad and muscular. She looked like she was growing into a warrior, her physique shifting from curvy to powerful, her posture firm and unyielding. Her once soft curves turned into the sharp, defined edges of a battle-hardened fighter.

Her hair darkened to a deep, raven black, growing longer, more rugged, and tousled like it had been swept by a windstorm. Her brown eyes turned intense, narrowed with quiet determination. And when her hands changed, they became large, calloused—hands that looked like they had seen years of combat.

I felt an almost reverent awe as I took in her new form. She looked like someone who could take on anything, someone who commanded respect just by standing still.

Finally, it was my turn. Reluctantly, I approached the machine, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. With a deep breath, I pulled the lever. The machine lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids, and the card landed with a final, decisive “ding.”

“Wolf-girl,” Naki declared lazily, his tone as casual as if he were announcing the weather. The moment he spoke, the room around me dimmed, and a swirl of light engulfed me. “Wait, what’s happening?! Stop this ridiculous—”

My protest was drowned out by a blinding cascade of sparkles that spun me into the air. Ethereal music—the kind you’d expect in a cheesy magical girl anime—echoed from nowhere, accompanied by what felt like a thousand tiny fireworks bursting around me.

“Are you kidding me?!” I shouted, flailing helplessly as my body began to glow. My silver hair sprouted and cascaded down my back in shimmering waves. “Oh, come on! Why the hair?! Why the hair?!”

As my outfit transformed into a flowing, glittery ensemble straight out of a fantasy costume catalog, I flailed harder. “Naki! This is absurd! Make it stop! Stop this nonsense right now!”

“Redo! I demand a redo!” I yelled, twisting in mid-air as the transformation reached its climax. My wolf ears twitched involuntarily, and a bushy tail suddenly emerged, swishing behind me without my consent.

Finally, I was gently lowered to the ground amidst a final burst of glitter. The room was eerily quiet, save for Naki’s barely contained snicker.

I caught sight of my reflection in a polished surface and froze. My silver hair shimmered in soft waves, my pointed wolf ears twitched at every sound, and my tail swished like it had a mind of its own.

“This can’t be happening,” I whispered, reaching up to poke one of the ears. It flicked back indignantly, and I groaned. “What the bloody hell is this?!”

Akari immediately burst into laughter, her golden eyes sparkling with mirth as she clutched her sides. “あなたの顔は最高ですね！”

Esperanza wasn’t far behind, his booming laugh filling the room. “¡Esto es mejor que cualquier novela! ¡Pareces lista para protagonizar una telenovela de fantasía!”

Meanwhile, Emily’s pink eyes widened with delight. “You’re so pretty! Can I pet your ears?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as her fluffy bunny tail wiggled behind her.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands as Naki chuckled in the background. “Right, enough fun. Let’s move on.”

Naki snapped his fingers, and the air shimmered around us. Each of us felt a sudden rush of energy as glowing sigils appeared in front of our chests.

The sigils pulsed, and a warm glow spread through our bodies. I felt an odd tingling sensation, like electricity coursing through me, and I could tell the others were experiencing the same thing.

“Congratulations,” Naki said, his tone as casual as ever. “You’ve just received your skills. Brett, you’re a Beastmaster—you can create, tame, and combine creatures and plants. Akari, you’re an Architect—you can shape inorganic matter to your will. Esperanza, you’re a Scion of War—a natural-born tactician with control over combat itself. And Emily, you’re a Scion of Magic—you’ve got the ability to create spells and enchant items. Pretty cool, right?”

I blinked and looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers experimentally. “So... I can just whip up a wolf out of thin air?”

“Pretty much,” Naki replied. “Just don’t go overboard.”

Akari twirled a lock of her red hair, her golden eyes sparkling. “Shaping inorganic matter? This is going to be fun! I’ll be designing castles in no time.”

Esperanza crossed his muscular arms and smirked. “Control over combat? Sounds like I’ll be keeping the rest of you alive.”

Emily clapped her hands excitedly, her bunny ears twitching. “Magic! Can I make things glow? Oh, what about fireworks?”

I groaned. “We’re supposed to build a world, not throw a party.”

“Why not both?” Akari quipped, grinning.

Before I could reply, a sudden realization struck me. I turned to Esperanza and Akari, and my jaw nearly dropped. “Wait a second. I can understand you both!”

Esperanza raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Akari clapped her hands together, her expression bright. “This will make everything so much easier. Communication is key, after all.”

Emily beamed. “It’s like magic fixed everything! Oh wait… it probably did.”

I let out a laugh despite myself. For the first time since this madness began, it felt like we were actually a team. Strange as it was, there was something oddly comforting about it.

I exchanged glances with Emily, who beamed up at me, her pink eyes wide with relief. For the first time since I had died, the chaos felt manageable—almost comforting.

At least now, we were all on the same page.

“Right, now that you’re all set, time to pick your new names,” Naki said. “Can’t have you running around Telvya with boring Earth names.”

Emily immediately perked up, practically bouncing in place. “I’m going to be Asha! It sounds magical! Like, ‘poof’ magical, not the card game.” She wiggled her bunny ears for effect, then added thoughtfully, “Plus, it was the name of my favorite stuffed bunny.” I couldn’t help but smile at the innocence behind her choice.

Esperanza—now in his younger, muscular form—rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his brows furrowing. “Belisario,” he declared, his deepened voice carrying a weight of authority. “It’s strong, like me. It’s also the name of a hero from a story my abuela used to tell me.” Then he paused, flexed an arm, and added with a grin, “Maybe I am the hero...”

Akari flipped a lock of her fiery red hair over her shoulder, her golden eyes sparkling mischievously. “Honoka,” she announced with the confidence of a pop star. “It suits me, doesn’t it? Elegant, beautiful, commanding. Plus, it was my stage name for a musical I starred in.” She smirked. “Should we add ‘the Magnificent’?”

I hesitated, staring down at my clawed hands and twitching wolf tail. “Zeva,” I said finally, my voice trailing off. “It was a name I used in an online RPG. Figured if it worked there, it works here.” I shrugged awkwardly. “Might as well embrace the weirdness. Or the fur.”

Honoka snickered. “Fur-tastic choice.” Asha giggled, and even Belisario chuckled under his breath.

“Good choices,” Naki said, clapping his hands with a grin that screamed “amused overlord.”

“Now let’s talk rules. No killing reincarnates, no running for office, and if you shirk your duties, well… there’s always The Corrective Box. But you’ll find out about that soon enough.”

We all exchanged uneasy glances. Honoka raised a hand as if in class. “Quick question: what’s in the box?”

Naki’s grin widened ominously. “Oh, you’ll love it. Or not. Mostly not.”

“That’s comforting,” I muttered, earning a laugh from Asha and a sympathetic pat on the back from Belisario.

Whatever we’d gotten ourselves into, there was no turning back now.

Naki clapped his hands one last time, his expression one of exaggerated cheerfulness. “Well then, good luck! You’re going to need it. Oh, and watch your step.”

“Watch our what—” I started, but before I could finish, Naki yanked a large, comically oversized lever that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The floor beneath us vanished, and with a collective yelp, we plummeted into a swirling void of clouds and light. The sensation was like being on a roller coaster with no seatbelt—my stomach flipped as we fell, the wind roaring in my ears.

“I hate you, Naki!” I shouted, though the words were probably lost in the chaos.

Honoka’s laughter echoed beside me. “This is amazing! It’s like a live concert stage drop!”

Asha screamed, clinging to Belisario, who looked both annoyed and amused as he tried to steady himself mid-fall.

“This is not how heroes are supposed to arrive!” Belisario bellowed.

The clouds thickened, their shimmering light blinding as we fell faster and faster. My heart raced, and just when I thought we’d be falling forever, the light engulfed us completely, and everything went still.