Welcome to the Valley of the Wrongful Dead.

  Reid ignored the chiming voice that echoed through his mind like a lost child announcement at the airport, opening his eyes to see the same message partially blocking his view. He squinted, trying to look past it. Beyond the semi-transparent block of text, a circular courtyard with several stone archways surrounded him. Smooth veins of glowing blue led out from the center in streaks, leading to each of the seven archways. Beside him in the center was an almost identical sleek black kiosk that Hudson had called the Karma Redemption Service.

  Reid turned away from the kiosk, distracted by the sudden, overwhelming amount of noise around him, as if his senses had finally caught up with the new location. A low hum emanated from the kiosk and the archways, and the chatter of people in the distance drowned out even the beat of his heart. The welcome message still annoyingly moved in tune with his line of sight. Willing the screen to go away, Reid was surprised to find the words vanish immediately, and sighed with relief. He should’ve known a game interface with no controller would respond to his thoughts, but nothing about Diyu should be considered normal.

  The valley of the wrongful dead was not the starter town he imagined sparsely populated with a handful of buildings and a few helpful NPC‘s. No, the scene before him was a bustling metropolis. Beyond each archway, streets lined with buildings and packed with people stretched into the distance, all connected to the courtyard by seven paved stone paths. Like the pieces of a mismatched puzzle, the buildings were an assortment of styles. High rises towered over straw-thatched huts. Street stalls and what looked like food trucks scattered the roadside, and neon signs flashed in bright, obnoxious colors. Everything was so lively, Reid had to remind himself that all of these people—including himself—were dead.

  The courtyard itself bore an uncanny resemblance to a spawn location that Reid wondered if Hudson had lied. Or perhaps the imp truly didn’t know, but most games Reid had played used some sort of revival function.

  A soft ding echoed in his head like a notification bell, drawing his attention away from the bustling streets. He spun around instinctively, eyes scanning the range of his Boundary ability. A woman passed through one of the archways, walking hand in hand with a young teenage boy. The pair glowed with a vibrant red outline, fading only after they walked outside the courtyard.

  Across the plaza, Reid turned his attention to a man in flowing obsidian robes throw a small glowing ball into the archway on the opposite side. The archway lit up as if a spotlight were blasting down from above. A few of the people nearby glanced at the display, but continued on their way as the man stepped in the archway and promptly vanished instead of passing through into the street beyond.

  The man had also glowed red—at least until he was a few steps away from the stone archway. Reid opened his menu, skimming over the boundary passive description. That had to be the distance limit? It looked to be between fifteen and twenty feet. His mouth spread in a wide grin. No one would sneak up on him ever again.

  Reid looked at his remained points, eager to see what would happen if he leveled up Perception. He had enough karma, but should he? Temptation to see how much of an advantage his ability would give him drove his hand upward subconsciously, but before he could touch the interface, another ding echoed in his mind. An arm slid across his shoulders and he flinched, choking back a startled yelp.

  His glasses slipped off his nose, almost falling off, as he gazed up at the blond-haired man now leaning over him. The man shook his head, scratching at his stubble covered chin thoughtfully before clicking his tongue.

  “Don’t do it,” the man’s warning was clear despite his thick Southern drawl. “If you got the points to spare, best spend ‘em on a revival scroll first. Jumpin’ into the Hellscape without one would be suicide.”

  Once his heart stopped racing, Reid adjusted his glasses and glanced at the stranger, wondering why the notification bell hadn’t notified him until the stranger was almost on top of him.

  More importantly, why was this man acting as if they were old buddies? He certainly didn’t remember befriending someone who looked like he’d walked straight off a cowboy movie. The man’s easy grin sent Reid’s skin prickling. Dozens of people swarmed the streets beyond the courtyard, yet no one else had paid him a single glance. Diyu certainly didn’t seem kind enough to offer new arrivals a mentorship program, either.

  What did this guy want with him?

  He knew in some video games, you could kill other players for a reward, but did this guy really expect him to have anything of value? Reid pulled away, backing out of the man’s reach.

  “Don’t look so alarmed. I’m not going to attack you. The name’s Martin. I help out the new arrivals, give ‘em a tour and the like. Diyu isn’t a very beginner friendly place, you know? Lucky for you, I’ve been here a while.”

  “What are you, a walking tutorial?” Reid asked, eyeing him skeptically. “You appeared the moment I arrived, so either you’ve been skulking around waiting for some sap to show up, or you knew I was coming. Either way, why should I trust you?”

  Reid crossed his arms, wishing he had a weapon. Martin had at least four inches on him, and based on the tightness of his sleeves, taking him on in a fistfight would be a losing battle.

  “None of those blokes run a hotel. I get a notification whenever a new soul arrives in the Valley, and I’d rather not let the competition beat me to the punch. Rent one of my rooms and I’ll answer any questions you have. Only two karma per day. I’ll even give you a few bonus items if you rent long term.”

  “Seems like a lot of work for only two karma per day.” Reid replied dryly, his nerves easing a little now that it appeared Martin didn’t plan to attack. Thinking about how many of the souls here had no memories of their lives, let alone knew the inner workings of a video game, left him with a sobering conclusion about their survival rate. If Martin truly was just being helpful, then he should have earned enough to reincarnate a long time ago.

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  As if reading his thoughts, Martin shrugged, gesturing to the streets lined with people.

  “It’s not so bad. the Hollowed don’t ask very many questions, and the ones like us are a dime a dozen.”

  Read glanced at him quizzically.

  “The Hollowed are those who don’t have memories of life. Don’t have any memories at all. They’re assigned a role by the Lords of Diyu and will act out that role no different than an NPC in a game. Thanks to that, I have a lot of time on my hands.”

  “What about the others, the ones like us?”

  “Benefits of the twenty-first century and all that. They at least know what to expect when somebody says Diyu is just one giant game. Wait, it is still the twenty-first century, right? Last person I talked to said some crazy bloke blew up the towers. That true?”

  “Uh, yeah. That was like twenty years ago, though. Think I was seven when it happened, so can’t say much as to what really happened.”

  “It’s fine. Things are dark enough down here. Nobody needs to hear the details. We’ve got enough on our plates.”

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Reed answered automatically, his mind turning over a new revelation. It hadn't occurred to him that Diyu would be filled with people from different countries, from different centuries, even. Some of the people here could have been stuck in Diyu for hundreds, even thousands of years.

  His steps faltered, wondering if the system had always been this way, or if the game like aspect only happened later.

  What looked like an Egyptian pharaoh, rounded the corner, nearly crashing into him, and Reid stumbled backwards, the apology dying on his lips. Would he even understand his words?

  “Watch where you’re going, newbie.”

  Reid stared at the man’s bare shoulders, unable to form a response.

  The Egyptian pharaoh had just spoken perfect English.

  When Martin noticed Reid wasn't right behind him, he turned around, grasping his shoulder in a show of support.

  “Martin. He just… did he just speak English? How was he speaking English? Did I just understand Egyptian? Is that even a language?” Read, pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming on. The language barrier was the final straw, and now, he felt his compsure unraveling under an onslaught of questions.

  Martin chuckled.

  “Slow down. Technically, you’re wrong on both accounts. That was the language of the gods. Doesn’t have a name, far as I know, but our vessels translate all spoken languages into it. It’s another benefit of Diyu. I suppose you could learn them the traditional way, but let’s face it, no one cares. Not when magic like that exists.”

  Reid shot him a side eyed glare.

  “So, in other words, the gods are just lazy.”

  This time, Martin’s laugh was so loud it echoed down the street and he crumbled to the ground, clutching his sides. Several people turned to look. A few close enough to hear the conversation smirked, shaking their heads. Reid scowled, not seeing the humor in it. If the gods weren’t lazy, perhaps he would have already reincarnated.

  But then, he never would have had a chance at rebirth.

  He raked a hand through his hair, wishing he had something to tie back the wavy brown locks, almost as much as he was glad for the god’s incompetence.

  “So if people have been here since ancient times, has it always been like this? Video games like this didn’t exist until the 20th century.”

  As Martin’s laughter finally died, he straightened, brushing the dirt off his jeans before answering.

  “Yeah, far as I know. Akkad was the first one here, and that was the Mesopotamian era. Best not to try to wrapping your head around it. The gods exist beyond time as we know it. Don’t twist yourself into knots trying to figure it all out and just go with the flow. It’s easier that way, trust me.”

  Reid nodded. The idea that video games existed because someone made it out of Diyu with their memories intact would have at least made sense. The alternative only made his headache throb in earnest. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing away the desire to figure it out, even as he tried to loosen the tight muscles clamping his head in a vise. Trying to understand the gods’ motivations might just drive him mad, if his head didn’t explode first.

  “I gotta say, you’re being awfully calm about all this. Most of the people I encounter are still freaking out about being dead. Takes a while for them to come to their senses.”

  Reid rubbed his temples with half a mind to ask Martin if Diyu was kind enough to provide Ibuprofen.

  “What good does going into hysterics do? The fact is, I’m dead. That fact has been made very, very obvious,” he said wearily.

  Another pulse of light from one of the archways sent a fresh wave of throbbing through his skull, and Reid stopped, pulling up the hood of his leather jacket to shield his eyes. The darkness that passed for a sky should have been easier on his eyes, but all it did was make the flashes of light from the archways all the more miserable. Crouching down, he swallowed back a wave of nausea.

  Maybe he was handling this worse than he thought. It was possible he was just in shock. That might account for the complete disregard he had for the wailing children in the building next to them. He froze.

  Children?

  Reid’s eyes widened as the implications dawned on him. Forgetting his discomfort, he raced towards the sound, flinging the french doors wide open. How had he not considered it? How had he forgotten?

  Somewhere behind him, Martin called out in surprise, but Reid barely heard him. His attention was solely on the scene in front of him.

  Cribs filled the room, row after row, a baby swaddled in each one. He wandered up and down the rows, then looked to the elevator. Outside, the building had loomed above most others.

  Just how many floors did it have?

  The Realm of Wrongful Dead was the home of any soul not meant to be in Diyu. Everyone in this place had more good karma than bad—so why hadn’t he considered the children? Of course they would end up here. Infants were pure souls, free from both merit and sin. The only child he’d seen so far had been walking with his mother, but now that he thought about it, how many children died alongside their parents? Far more died in childbirth, or from disease or injury.

  How did they survive in a place like this?

  Reid brought a hand to his lips just as bile rose in his throat. Fearing he would be sick, Reid left as quickly as he’d gone in.