"What the?" Shyam murmured as he looked around. Everything had turned white. He remembered he had slept, but this didn't seem like his home at all.
"Is this a dream? Must be. But wait, am I supposed to know I'm in a dream?" Shyam whispered as he walked forward endlessly.
He saw nothing—just a white realm where he walked slowly.
"This is weird, I have to wake up," Shyam muttered, trying to indicate his body to wake up.
Usually, when someone realizes they're dreaming, they can forcibly wake themselves up.
Shyam was unable to.
Suddenly, a golden light flashed before his eyes, and what came next was just a small room and a person standing right before him. He had a book that seemed like a register file.
"Uhm, hello," the person spoke.
He looked at Shyam with eyes that wished for forgiveness, yet showed authority—just like a boss who had done something wrong and was hoping to be forgiven, but still wanted to assert his high rank.
"So... where am I?" Shyam asked. He looked around—the room was full of golden poles, ancient writing, etc.
"Oh, about that. You died, hehe," the person replied in a sarcastic tone—one that seemed both honest and funny.
"Huh? Cool, my dreams are getting real day by day. Might wanna rest more, huh," Shyam whispered and turned back, trying to leave the room.
"Where's the door?" he said, trying to figure out where it was.
Ever since he entered the small little room, he had looked around but found no door.
"No, I'm just kidding! You seriously died."
"Have I now? Okay, say I have. Then what am I doing here?" Shyam sat down on the floor, looking straight at the person who claimed he had died.
"Well, you know about the Yam Dut concept, yeah?" said the person, as he sat down on a nearby chair.
"Yes, I have. Why?" Shyam still tried to wake up—end the dream and go to work. But he also feared it might be true. A dream so realistic, where he could keep track of everything, had hardly ever happened to any human.
But doubt only makes one weak. Doubting oneself often results in instant loss or a decline in self-confidence. Shyam didn't want to lose confidence in himself.
"Well, I'm one. And believe it or not, I accidentally killed you," said the person sitting on the chair. Suddenly, a cup of chai appeared out of nowhere.
He took a sip, and a different cup of chai appeared for Shyam.
"Have you really? Cool! Now wake me up, please?" Shyam said as he took a sip of the chai as well. It was delicious—far better than any chai he had ever drunk in reality.
With every small sip, his doubt for some reason grew bigger and bigger.
"It's hard to think that you've died, isn't it? With Ira back on Earth and Varnika trying her best to keep the family together... Let me give you two options—wait, rather three.
1 • Accept your death, stay here, and watch your family from here.
2 • I'll reincarnate you into another world where you can fulfill your dream—you know, the one where you wanted to travel the world?
3 • I'll burn your soul and make a new one with the leftover energy.
Which do you choose?"
With each word, Shyam's self-doubt grew even bigger. Was he really dead? Why? Or better yet—how even? He was in good health, still had more than enough time to live, and a daughter to take care of. How could he have just died like that?
And what did that person even mean by "Varnika trying her hardest to keep the family together"? He wasn't asleep that long.
"Your words don't make sense to me. How could I have died just instantly like that? And what do you mean my wife is trying her hardest to keep the family together?"
Shyam asked, as if he didn't want to buy it—but had to accept the spoken fact that he had died.
An instant death, at that.
"Well, first of all, I was given the task to bring an old soul from Earth. So, I ordered the Yam Duts under my command to bring that old soul.
But the problem is... your soul was, for some reason, the same age as that soul. So they mistook you for them. And here you are,"
said the Yam Dut, teleporting corner to corner as if he was bored.
"Oh yeah? But what about the other stuff you spit out through your mistaken mouth?" Shyam said. His voice now carried frustration and anger. How could he be calm? Even if this was a dream—killed? By mistake? And what did he mean, old soul? He wasn't even 40 yet.
"Oh! That... Yeah, actually. The time flow from Earth to Yamapuri is very different—like, 10x slower. So ten minutes there on Earth is one minute here in Yamapuri. Get it now?"
The god said while walking in circles, kind of like a teacher teaching one student personally.
"Okay... and you're a Yam Dut?" Shyam asked as he took the last sip of chai and stood up like he'd had enough.
"Yes, above Purusha, below Yam Raja."
"And if you write that you've killed an innocent by mistake, you'll be punished—which is why you gave me those three options?" Shyam asked.
"Not quite, but similar. Yes. Have you chosen yet though?" asked the Yam Dut while drinking another cup of chai.
"Chai addict?" Shyam asked sarcastically. From the moment he laid eyes on that Yam Dut, he'd seen him drink more than three cups of chai, at least.
"Kinda, yeah. Chai's very good for my health—especially the ones found here."
"Really?" Shyam said and closed his eyes for a few moments, as if he wanted to process things before making a decision.
"Okay, I believe you. I've died. But can you really reincarnate me though?
And I don't want a normal reincarnation, to be honest. One with a system. Like, system sounds fun. System like Earth elements of an ancient world type, you know."
Shyam had finally accepted the fact that he had died—although the words he spoke sounded more like a friendly request. Like he wasn't talking to a higher being but just an old childhood friend.
"But what happens to my family once I reincarnate, though?" Shyam suddenly remembered—even though he had died, his family still lived on Earth.
"Eh, don't worry about them. They're already dead. But in the traditional way though!
Also, yeah—I can reincarnate you just the way you described," said the Yam Dut, while making a floating magic circle with Sanskrit scripts spinning on them.
It was just like the anime and manga Shyam had read and watched in his previous life—although for him, that still was his current life. He didn't want to leave everything behind.
"WHAT!! How can you say that so casually—like it's just a regular thing?! I hope you go to hell! Wait no... you ARE a Yam Dut, brooo—"
But before the Yam Dut could answer, the spell had already been chanted.
Shyam felt like his whole body had shattered into pieces. He saw everything go blank—and soon lost consciousness.
"Master? MASTER!"
A girl, a voice, an unknown figure, a TREE?
Shyam opened his eyes once more. He felt like he had just had a dream where someone tore his body apart—but now, he felt no pain.
"What is this place?" Shyam whispered as he looked around.
"A dream?" he murmured as he took a step forward.
"Every time you wake up from your sleep and find yourself not in your room doesn't mean it's a dream, Master!"
That same voice spoke again—from the back of his mind.
"Eh? Who are you? AND WHERE ARE YOU?" Shyam said, spinning 160° trying to find the unknown voice.
"Stop spinning, wait—I'll come out."
It spoke again. And suddenly, many blue light particles formed in the empty space into a floating figure that looked like a fairy.
It had wings that moved. Legs so small Shyam could hold it in his hands. And a FACE? No hair though.
"I swear I hadn't drunk any alcohol last night—Mom! Save me! Someone wake me up now—it's about time!"
Shyam shouted, trying his hardest to wake up from this dream.
He pinched himself, slapped himself, even tried to bite his own hand—until Raitha, that fairy-like being, stopped him.
"Just accept it already. You were dead, and the good Yam Dut gave you another life.
Not just that—he transferred all your memory from the old body to this one.
Now let's start your beautiful journey ahead, Master," said the fairy, dancing through the air like a star on stage.
"Well... it's hard to, but oh well. Might as well play along if I'm not gonna wake up soon," Shyam said, finally settling down.
He sat on the ground, closed his eyes, took a deep breath—and opened them.
"Who are you, then?"