ALL NOVEL 3: What you want to be?
When Jimbo heard that he could not enter heaven, almost collapsed to the floor. But when heard the word Reincarnation, his spirits recover and his eyes light up. Perhaps all is not lost, perhaps there is more for him than this abrupt end. Moving forward, he jumps up and perched on the desk.
"Reincarnation... Like in light novels?" Jim questions, extending his plump energy hand.
"Or as in the Bhagavad Gita, holy poem of the Hindus," replies St. Peter with an arched eyebrow. "Jimbo, this is not a reward... It's a new opportunity. Our mission is that all souls transcend, not that they repeat a thousand unsatisfied lives until they end up twisted. There are wounds and traumas that reach the spirit, you know?"
"That's very well, but it's all going to be like light novels, right?" Jim ignores half of the saint's words and continues looking for the confirmation he wants.
St. Peter lets out a long sigh and nods with a tired expression.
"Good!"
Jim flashes a big smile and hops down from the desk, "I guess I'll have to leave behind my PC, my games, my money, and all my trophies... But I'll take the sacrifice! I guess that will earn me a point or two with the Almighty. Where do I sign?
St. Peter points to the silver threshold. The door opens by itself.
"Follow that path, my son, and you will find your guardian angel. The angel will tell you everything you need to know"
Jimbo thanks St. Peter and advances through the clouds, whose cumulus molds to his footsteps like snow. The silver door closes behind him.
Pearl pantheons with double jade doors appear between the paths of cloud and light. Jimbo sees many souls being led by winged figures dressed in white robes. There are no angels that are ugly, their faces seem to have been crafted like that of the best NPCs. He sees Mary enter with a tall, handsome angel into one pantheon. Jimbo gawks admiring everyone's beauty, until he bumps into someone and ends up sitting on the light floor.
Lifting his face, Jim discovers a slender, short girl whose golden bangs cover her sleepy eyes. She floats hunched over, with two white wings that don't even move. In one hand the girl holds a golden trumpet.
"Who are you?" Jim asks from the floor.
"I'm your guardian angel, Cherubella," the angel announces as she brings the trumpet to her lips and blows, releasing an annoying sound right in Jimbo's face.
Jim grumbles and runs a hand over his face before standing up.
"You didn't do a very good job, did you?" Jim accuses, as his reason for being there is that she didn't protect him from death.
"I tried to warn you," Cherubella's voice is just as soothing as St. Peter's, only somewhat lethargic, as if she had just awakened from a nap. "Know that constant pain in your stomach that you chose to ignore...? That was me"
Jim avoids asking how she caused those stomach pains. Instead, decides to focus on the promise of a new life. He rubs his hands together and forces a smile.
"So... What's the next step?"
"Next step of what?"
"Of my reincarnation," Jim begins to sound annoyed.
"Oh, right. Well, what do you want?"
Jimbo's eyes widen in surprise.
"I didn't know I had a choice..."
Cherubella smiles.
"Come to my pantheon"
The jade doors open by themselves as they pass through. Within those pearly walls illuminated by an unseen power, are a humble desk like St. Peter's, a wooden chair, a filing cabinet, and perhaps most striking is the golden machinery placed at the bottom of the pantheon. The machine is equipped with a crystal sight attached to a seat, two levers, an open vault, and an elongated tube extending out of the pantheon, pointing beyond the clouds.
Jimbo with a jump takes a seat in the wooden chair while Cherubella floats behind the desk, puts down the trumpet, and opens the filing cabinet to search through hundreds of folders with names on them.
"Wait a second, am I not your only protégé?"
"Eeeh, no," Cherubella replies with a quiet smile while still going through the files. "I have about 9000 souls assigned to me"
"¡¿9000?!" Jim almost fell off his seat, unable to imagine such a workload.
"I used to have one partner, but now there are so many souls that we all had to split up. If I keep up the good work, I'll earn my third wing and be one step closer to becoming a kerubin," Cherubella's expression takes on a slight crimson hue as she imagines the future.
"And when you sleep, or eat, or have fun?"
"I don't need to eat or sleep. And my work is quite fun"
Jim averts his eyes. For convenience's sake, keeps it to himself, but he thinks God is an abusive exploiter. Cherubella places a manila folder on top of the desk and opens a drawer to pull out some brochures, which she hands to the soul.
"These remind me of vacation brochures," Jim says as he glances through the contents of the first one. "Wait a minute, this is where I'm coming from!"
"That's our Homecoming package," Cherubella reports. "It's quite popular, most prefer a place they're familiar with"
"Can't I tell you what I'm looking for first, and then you can show me the brochure that matches?"
"Hmm, sure," Cherubella accepts the brochures back, careful not to crease the corners of the paper.
Jimbo settles into the chair and begins to relate what he wants step by step, also gesturing with his hands. Cherubella listens and nods from time to time to make it clear that she is paying attention. When Jimbo finishes his chatter, the angel says:
"So you are looking for a fantasy world"
Jim smiles and nods several times. Cherubella hands him a piece of paper with the name Fantasia on it, a brochure that Jim accepts and reads with growing excitement as he sees that it has everything he asked for: magic, dragons, treasures, kingdoms, princesses....
"Although it's a relatively recent galaxy, it's another of our most popular destinations"
"There are elves!"
"Yes, of various kinds. Although they are less friendly than people think"
"Oh, my! It has just about everything I dreamed of"
"So you like it?"
"Like a lot!"
"Good. I guess the only thing left is for you to tell me what you want to be"
"Can I choose anything?"
"There are souls who were granted to be a magic sword, a slime, and even a vending machine. Didn't St. Peter tell you? We are very flexible"
"A vending machine? Really?"
"Hey, we don't judge here... Well, yes, but you know what I mean"
"Do you have a pencil and paper? It's a bit long"
Cherubella gets from the desk a piece of parchment and a golden quill that doesn't need ink to write. Jimbo writes down all the requirements, which takes about ten minutes, and then hands the paper to the angel. Cherubella's gaze goes up and down the text several times.
"So you want to be a humble farmer with a golden heart, half elf, half bastard son of the king, possessor of a dragon's egg, and a mysterious destructive power that is in turn a remnant of a fragment of the demon king that is sealed inside you"
"There's more in the back"
Cherubella checks the other side.
"Innate mastery of martial arts and fencing. And a magnet for women who don't mind being part of a harem, including a cute childhood friend, and a 40-year-old mentor. Is that all?"
Jimbo nods and crosses the arms behind his head. Cherubella smiles, reopens the desk, pulls out a silver scale with four scales. Then she opens Jimbo's file and as if it were some kind of magic pocket, she pulls out three statuettes from the folder: One white, one red, and one gray, which she places on the different scales.
"I sculpted them. Do you like?"
Jim leans over and squints his energy eyes.
"Is that me?" Jim recognizes the stubby, broad-faced figures. The white statuette shows a friendly smile; the red one a big shark smile; and the gray one seems indifferent to everything. "Why do the red and white ones look so small?"
"They are made of sins and good deeds, respectively"
"What do you mean by that...?"
Cherubella ignores the question and rolls up the paper with Jimbo's requests, which she then places on the last scale. The scale shakes and moves up and down, as if undecided by the weight of each element, until the paper jumps up in the air, unrolls, and floats down covering Jimbo's head.
"Perhaps you should be less demanding. Set the limit at ten words," says the angel without erasing the gentle smile. "Let's find the balance together"