0: Rolling Yahtzee?

I woke up with a jolt, awakening to the pleasant sight of nothing.

Not darkness.

Not light.

Just… static emptiness.

My thoughts were of crowded bodies pushing and shoving against each other, the cacophony of voices and chants filled with rage and indignation omnipresent. And then, the gunshots, cracks of thunder that pierce through the noise, sending a wave of chaos through the crowd.

It was ironic, I didn’t die from a bullet, that would have been the better outcome; instead, I had fallen, and with thousands of people all shoving and screaming, few noticed a person underfoot.

“Well,” I spoke into the emptiness, “That was a brutal way to go.”

Curiously, I felt fine, but what surprised me more was how calm I felt. None of the panic, no worry. My emotions were detached and cold.

Maybe shock doesn’t carry over to the afterlife if that’s where I am.

Curiously, I looked at my surroundings. While I’d assumed there was no afterlife, my continued consciousness was a point for it. Personally, I counted this as an absolute win. While I didn’t believe in god, I certainly wished there was a peaceful place after death, but I thought it was a statistical improbability.

With no sense of direction or touch, I couldn’t tell if I was standing, sitting, or even moving; it was just me and the void.

All for a few seconds.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence, “As I am positive you have guessed, you are dead. Death by trampling. Ouch. Not even that quick,” a voice said. “With that bone-crushing realization out of the way,”—the voice paused, then snickered quietly, “Heh, see what I did there? It’s time to get things rolling. Here, take these dice and give them a good shake for me.”

With little warning, a small table, three dice, and most surprisingly a Yahtzee cup appeared in front of me.

What?

I stared at the Yahtzee cup.

The voice sighed with exasperation, “Why does everyone react like that! It’s a good game! Would you prefer a roulette wheel? I can do that.”

Ignoring the commentary, I looked around the otherwise empty void.

Finding nothing else, I walked up after staring at the physics‑defying objects. The dice looked vaguely like the one‑hundred‑sided dice I used to play DnD with, but instead of numbers, small symbols were etched on every side.

With little else to do in the void, I shrugged. Why not? I took the cup, covered its opening, and gave thirteen good rattles (it always bothered me when people just dropped the dice in and immediately poured them out, completely removing chance). I let them fall.

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When I tipped the cup, the dice scattered out on the small table, spinning, then slowing, then stopping.

Landing on three distinct symbols, the etchings glowed and then peeled off the dice, like little stickers. The symbols were floating into the air and settling in front of my eyes.

Shifting into words I could understand. I read them.

Mineral, Protection, Sapient.

With a tinge of surprise filling its tone, the voice spoke up. “Hey, hey, hey. Lucky fellow. Those are some lucky rolls!”

“What do you mean that’s lucky?” I demanded. “What is this even for? And ‘Mineral,’ really?”

“Ah, yes. To answer your second question, this is for reincarnation,” it said cheerfully, “Now to answer your first and third, I dunno man, did you want to be an insect, and nonsapient? For a first roll, that’s a miracle you got what you did. There is a long, long list.”