Some people die in tragic ways. A car accident, a sudden illness, or something dramatic enough to make the newspapers cry.
Some people die ridiculously. And in the world of reincarnation stories, absurdity is apparently very popular. There's the person flattened by a speeding "Truck-kun," sent to another world because fate apparently needed them there. Another died after leaving a bad review on a story—enough to anger the gods into granting a second chance. Others choked on food while reading a book about reincarnation. True story.
And then there's Issac Volt.
He did not die from illness, accident, or divine punishment. He did not get hit by a truck. He did not even leave a bad review. No. He died because he slipped on a banana peel.
A banana peel.
One tiny, yellow, completely innocuous death-trap.
Yes. The universe apparently has a twisted sense of humor. And apparently, Issac was the punchline.
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He had been walking down the street, thinking about absolutely nothing important, when his foot betrayed him. That small yellow curve of doom lay there like a cruelly placed exclamation point.
One step. A slip.
Suddenly, he was airborne, flailing like a toddler learning physics for the first time.
Thoughts scattered. Why now? Why me? I literally almost stepped over it—why did I look at that pigeon?
His life flashed before his eyes in a chaotic, humiliating montage:
His mom yelling at him for eating instant noodles again, while he tried not to choke on the irony.
The time he accidentally burned toast while making breakfast.
The text he'd finally worked up the courage to send to his crush, now sitting forever unsent in drafts.
Sitting alone in a café, spilling coffee on his laptop while reading a novel about reincarnation, thinking, well, at least I'm consistent.
And then—smash. Asphalt. Pain. Humiliation.
The undeniable, embarrassing truth: he was dead.
---
When Issac opened his eyes again, he wasn't on asphalt. Not that he wanted to be.
He was floating in an endless expanse of shimmering light. Clouds of gold and silver drifted lazily. A faint breeze ruffled his hair, though he couldn't feel it normally—it smelled vaguely of cinnamon and ozone.
And then he heard it.
Laughter.
Clear. Musical. Ridiculously amused laughter.
"Ahahaha! Oh, this… this is priceless!"
Issac blinked. "Wait… who's laughing? Where am I?"
A figure appeared, radiant and divine. Wings shimmered behind her, and her emerald eyes sparkled—pure amusement.
"You… you died slipping on a banana peel?" she said, leaning slightly on a glowing staff, one eyebrow raised. "I've seen people trip on stairs, get hit by cars, even burn toast—but this… this is new. Truly inventive."
Issac's cheeks burned. "I… it's not funny!"
"Oh, but it is," she said, tilting her head, her halo flickering slightly as if laughing too hard to stay still. "So wonderfully, hilariously funny."
---
Issac floated backward in shock. "Wait… you're a goddess?"
"Yes, yes, that's me," she said, still chuckling. "But don't worry. I'm not here to punish you. I rather like you. Most mortals never make me laugh like this."
"My… my death amused a goddess?"
"Indeed," she said, nodding. "And because of that… I am giving you a second chance. A new life. In a world of magic, adventure, and—ideally—fewer banana-related fatalities."
Issac's brain short-circuited. "A… magic world? I… I get to actually live? Really?"
She floated closer, one feather flicking. "Something like that. But beware: monsters, magic, and dangers await. You'll need more than luck to survive. Do you accept?"
He hesitated. Thought about his pathetic, banana-filled death. About the unsent text, the spilled coffee, the burnt toast… and finally, a shaky grin formed.
"Yes," he said firmly, "I accept. Just… no more bananas."
The goddess laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. Her halo flickered, then she wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, Issac Volt, you are exactly the kind of mortal I enjoy saving."
---
She raised her hand. A swirling vortex of golden light enveloped him, warm and dizzying. He felt like every cell in his body had woken up at once.
"Farewell, Issac Volt," she whispered, her voice echoing like a delicate bell. "Your new life begins now."
The light brightened until it was blinding. Up, down—he no longer knew. Heart pounding, body tingling, mind racing—everything melted into white brilliance.
And then—nothing but light.
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