A young woman was laying on the ground with beautiful, decorated sword pierced through her chest.

She had alluring, sharp features matching that of a queen and was dressed in a metallic suit, resembling slightly a robot, now ripped, pierced and shredded in many places, revealing tens of smaller and larger wounds on her body.

On her side, gripping the handle of the sword, was standing a tall, and bulking man with rough features, donned in fiery red full body armor with protruding blades and plates, making him look grotesque and strange.

“You’ve had a good time killing me to avenge this bastard, eh?” – The woman said in a playful voice full of sarcasm, mockery and ridicule.

“No need to explain myself to an enemy of humanity, the Machine Demoness.” – He replied in a slightly angry tone.

“Obviously, the truthful and oh so righteous Hero of Strength. No need to explain my mistake of trusting humans. Pah!” – She spat weakly, trying to make it land on his face, but she didn’t even have strength to do that. – “Next time, may I go on the path of monsters so I will know not to trust humans. And remember, the day I see you, you will die.”

“Hahaha! There is no next time for the likes of you!” – The hero said with contempt and anger.

She smiled in response.

“Ya know, I received an interesting item from Call of the Future. If you say there is no next time, let me change that.”

She took a small, translucent dagger from a rip in space and, without hesitation, stabbed through her heart.

<Soki, The Dagger of Recollection>

The person killed with this dagger will regain their memories and part of their power after death and reincarnation at the cost of excruciating pain and a period of weakness of the soul due to forceful retaining of memories. After usage the item will be destroyed.

“See ya.” – She whispered.

The world seemed to shake and tremble as she took her last breath.

Afterwards, her body started to dissolve into particles of light that disappeared into the air, all being watched by the dumbfounded hero.

…

I was running through the streets of Bluesky, the capital city on this island. That is, if you can call the dirty, smelly, narrow, and with dangers lurking on every step path between shabby wooden buildings in slums a proper street.

I was weaving through all the people there, careful not to get anything stolen. Anything, in this case three loafs of bread I managed to swind- um, take for free from bakery. I have them under my oversized, ragged vest that covers my body from my knees, which is the only other thing one might want from me.

The bread is pleasantly warm as it touches my skin, and I start drooling when thinking about its taste, especially with void in my stomach, as last meal I ate was today’s modest breakfast with Laura and other kids, which was over four hours ago and I am already really hungry. Normally it wouldn’t go this way, but Laura had few missions this month and her earnings were meager, barely allowing to feed us all.

Damn, back on tracks. I don’t even know if I will keep that bread.

While very few people are interested in me as I have food covered by cloth, one of them is the bulky man barreling through the alley with a furious expression. The baker, as most could guess.

Sister Laura always said I’ve got talent to move quickly, silently and seamlessly, fit for a rogue or an assassin, but that doesn’t really help against a man over one and a half of my height, and probably over five times my weight, pushing others to his sides as he chases after me.

The others, by the way, are in similar condition to me. I mean, they are not necessarily orphans, but similarly malnourished and weightless after getting hit by him.

I am slightly guilty about this, but who would have expected he went out of the bakery to piss when I was stuffing his bread under my vest.

Obviously, I started running in the first alley I saw and he followed me like a raging bull. I can’t believe he is the same person that politely sells his pastries and empathizes with son of the blacksmith who doesn’t have talent for smithing and lives his life going from place to place and doing rogue jobs.

Not that it’s my thing to criticize him, but at this pace he might kill at least a few of the homeless here.

Humans baffle me really often. If I told him not to kill them as this contradicts what church teaches, he would probably be even angrier or even blame me for their deaths.

Strange, isn’t it?

As I run down the alley with the man on my tail, he slowly starts catching up. When I started running, I got around twenty meters head start before his brain processed what I am doing, but he got just a few meters behind me by the time I saw anything that could help me escape.

It is a narrow passage, not even a meter wide in which the man will have trouble moving quickly, but I, with my small frame, am able to easily pass.

I veer to my right between two wooden shacks, but just as I run around the corner, I suddenly feel something tightening around my wrist.

It’s the first time in my life I am truly scared.

Because if he catches me, I’m dead.

I feel terrible pain in my wrist, probably snapped, and I lose all my hope to escape the man.

I suddenly lose my footing, feeling my insides tighten due to sudden acceleration and spin as I see the blue sky above me, a wall upside down, then ground before my eyes and finally the filthy alley once again.

Just after that I crash into wall, and feel pain all around my body, especially my waist and head as it whips into the wooden shack.

I see stars in eyes as I notice the man with furious expression walking slowly towards me.

And I smile towards him.

So what if I die. I am not the person to regret what I did, but what I didn’t.

You know, I didn’t live a fulfilling life, but I didn’t have anything to strive for.

Getting stronger, maybe.

In the first place, though, if I were stronger, I wouldn’t land in my current situation, and I can only blame myself and the Beholders for that.

But, well, maybe I’ll be stronger in the next life.

I faintly notice something flying towards my face and everything blackens afterwards.

…

{Hey, wake up, dammit! How much more will I have to wait for you?}

Huh.

I am dead, no?

{No, you’re damn well alive and kicking, merely fucking asleep on the middle of the road. You could have at least got yourself a roof overhead, not to mention a damn cover, no?}

I snap my eyes open, hearing the sweet and yet annoyed voice of a teenage girl spewing complaints around, and I see the familiar wood of the slums, merely I don’t recognize the place.

I am currently laying sprawled on the ground in an unfamiliar corner of the streets with no one around. Fortunately I’m not in sewers or somewhere similarly nasty, but I could have ended up better seeing my boots and vest now completely covered in mud and probably something more.

“Um, I’m pretty sure I died, though?”

{…You sure?} – The voice asks, now curious and interested.

I turn around hastily, but see no one around me.

{Don’t search for me and stay where you are for now. We’ve got a few things to explain each other, for I also have no idea what happened to me.}

“Okay. Where are you, though?”

{It’s hard to describe accurately, but it’s not wrong to say I’m in your mind. You won’t see me unless you awaken your Origin or develop soul sense or something similar, which will hopefully happen soon. That aside, could you describe what happened before to get a gist of what is going on?}

“Um, let’s see… I stole some bread from bakery and was running from that man, and as he was chasing me, he caught me by wrist, I think, and threw me at the wall. Then he hit me in the face and after that I don’t remember anything. I think you woke me up soon afterwards, but I have no idea what happened during this time.”

{Mhm, so, in short, you know nothing about what happened. Look at your body, girl.}

“Huh?”

‘Girl?’

I now realize my voice is higher than it used to be and I look down in panic at my body, or rather my vest, which obviously blocks my sight.

Without hesitation I grab it and pull it off to see my naked body and I freeze, not knowing how to react.

Hm.

I’m damn sure I was a boy before.

{You were. When I woke up, you were laying there unconscious and I felt your body changing rapidly into what it is now. That said, it is better for me, I guess.}

My body, from what I can see, is significantly taller than it was. Glancing down, I see, looking from the top, a pair of, well, girl’s breasts, not to beat ‘round the bush. As small as they currently are, definitely no boy would have such. That said, I’m not entirely sure if it would be good to have them large. Guess we’ll see, though, as I have little say in this matter.

‘Why does it feel so natural to me, eh?’

Never mind.

Looking down, I have smooth belly without muscles visible, but surprisingly I see no signs of malnourishment. No outlined ribs, no pelvis sticking out, only smooth, pale, almost white skin.

Under that, well, secret garden, eh? No point elaborating. Slightly pinkish. Hm.

Anyway. Below I see my legs, now visibly longer than before. If I were to guess, I would say I were around 120 centimeters before and somewhere around 140 now, though I have no way to check that. That said, my legs, just like belly, are smooth, tender and similarly pale, completely unlike what they were before.

Under that, hmm. My boots are rather painfully pinching my feet. I presume they have grown, similar to the rest of my body. Feet, that is, not boots.

I quickly reach down to take them off, as I’d say it’s better to walk barefooted than in something that makes your feet ache all the time. Though, inevitably I take a look at my arms, and I can’t help but pause for a second.

To put it short, my arms are smooth just like legs, but what catches my attention are my hands. I can’t help but pinch them and flinch in pain. They are smooth. Tender. Too tender even. It’s just impossible to compare my previous, ragged, scarred and with calluses I got over years of living in the slums, to these delicate, sensitive hands I feel and see. With round, not cracked nails at that.

I almost start to cry as I feel smoothness under my fingers.

After a while I take a deep, shaky breath and finally take my boots off with slight difficulty. As expected, I see a pair of smooth, pale feet with same, round nails as on my hands.

I then look around and see a small, relatively clean puddle of I would like to say water, but I’m probably not so lucky. The alley here is a bit dark, but good enough to see your reflection. I approach it to see how my face looks like, slightly nervous.

I look down and I stand in daze.

“It’s… Beautiful…” – I murmur.

It’s the only thing that comes to my mind as I look at sharp and yet somehow cute face of a young girl. The slightly long, wild crimson hair, reaching my shoulders, the soft, pinkish lips, smooth, full cheeks and blood red eyes.

I’m mesmerized by the sight. By myself, so to speak.