Not yet. Never.

He leaned away from the robed person while he got a grip on how this new form moved. Maybe if he could get back to his body he could do… something… Maybe he could heal more now that he was like… this… It’d probably hurt him, but he was so close.

More memories came to the surface as he started piecing together the new controls for this state of being.

The feeling of pushing through his physical limits after he was crippled, pumping weights until the textured surface of the bar rubbed his hands raw and he couldn’t grip it anymore.

The feeling of studying for eighteen hours straight without breaks, throat burning from acid reflux caused by unhealthy amounts of coffee.

The feeling of getting out of bed for the first time three days after realizing the future he’d always imagined was gone.

The feeling of burning away all the excuses in an uncontrolled wellspring of passion.

The feeling of digging.

Then there was another sensation. Something equally unfamiliar. Another sense of… Yellow. No, gold this time. From head to toe. He didn’t see it flash but knew it was there. He saw a screen saying “Level Up!” but dismissed it quickly. Because with it it came…

Vigor.

Get the hell away from me, said Tedrick without a sound, shoving the robed fellow through the door. The person stumbled in, flashing him a look that was simultaneously frustrated and sad.

Ah… I see. I didn’t guess you’d be one of those. I suppose that was silly, you’ve tried hard every day until now. I’m not sure why dying would change that. Well… I suppose that means we must do it the hard way then. The frustration switched mostly to sadness as a scythe as tall as they were appeared in hand. But you understand, I must do my job. This is for the best. Please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be, the figure pleaded as a dark mist seemed to envelop them. It still hugged their form, so they were fully defined, but it had a distinct sense of them not being there at all in fact.

Tedrick didn’t give a second thought, a copy of his axe appearing in hand, also the same height as him, though definitely far larger now than when he was… alive.

The thought sent a wave of anger through him, burning away whatever peace and calm remained, and it pulsed in his very being. From bottom to top, he could feel waves of the feeling, his very form changing to accommodate for the depth of the feeling. The axe sharpening, his form beginning to waver as he felt his fury and cold rejection swell and grow. Not at this poor soul, they were just doing their job, but he would not go. There was simply too much to do. Nothing personal. I’m just too busy to die yet.

This got a surprised look from the one who would guide him to the afterlife. Spirit magic? But you never… Their eyes fogged over as they seemed to blank out for a moment.

He took his chance. Darting forward, Tedrick swung his axe. He felt resistance against it, similar to the resistance one feels when swimming. But like swimming it swung through it all the same, eventually hitting something far tougher. It wasn’t like he imagined the crunch of bone and flesh felt, but still distinct.

He heard/felt a distinct Ah! As the person stumbled backwards, their own arm swinging down reflexively. The blade ran through Tedrick’s shoulder, only a sliver of his incorporeal form holding his arm in place. It wasn’t like a normal cut; it was more like a narrow space of simply empty air, completely see through as if the scythe simply pulled what energy was there with it as it went. The same energy that once was there hung about the blade of the now annoyed looking person. That was very rude. I’m busy too, ya know. Still, I did confirm. You never learned Spirit magic. Let me guess, Administrators? Troublesome creatures… it’s so cruel to play with souls like this, you poor outsiders being used in their game... They spoke with a sigh. Either way. We really have to get going. There’s a troublesome ghoul that I need to usher out of somewhere they don’t belong, the androgyn said, dropping into a lower stance before… disappearing.

Of course, they didn’t really disappear. Tedrick could sense… something. A shape. Energy.

He swung.

The axe was flung from his hands, as if he’d hooked it onto a freight train. A line like on his shoulder appeared again, but on the opposite shoulder… And far larger. Splitting him from shoulder to hip. Clean through. If gravity existed in a conventional way, he’d have slid in two.

This was never a fight in the first place.

A deep lethargy and exhaustion struck him more so than pain. He couldn’t stand up anymore. He couldn’t do… much of anything anymore for that matter. Even his thoughts were quieting, despite the ferocity of them just moments ago.

He fell to his knees, limp, and the figure reappeared, looking much sadder than before. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to go this way, he said, sounding genuinely upset. Just… come on now. Please. You can’t win, you’re almost out of time... The androgyn started to walk past him, gently pulling him along to the door without touching him. Clearly careful to not hurt him further.

But for his kindness he got a knife to the thigh, a dark blood running onto Tedrick’s hand. It was damn near all Tedrick had left, and the abyss he felt consuming him now was different than the death that took him before, different from the bird’s… expiration. It felt like…

Disappearing.

The figure looked more surprised than in pain, then alarmed. Not for the knife, it would seem, as that vanished immediately, only his bloody hand evidencing it was ever there. They glanced back and forth from his door to Tedrick, but as Tedrick fell from his knees to his side, the figure let out a soft sigh. Fine. Even if I brought you along right now it’d be too late. Only one chance for you now. He became aware of being right next to his body, though he certainly wasn’t before. I’ve done all I can. The rest is up to you, not that you’d have it any other way. I hope you make it. I’ll check back in on you later.

Then Tedrick couldn’t feel them anymore. He was alone here. He reached out for his body, but as he reached, he saw that his arm was gone past his elbow, and only fading further. Anger and rejection flooded his veins, and the fading slowed.

Fine, if he couldn’t use that one he’d try the other. He reached out with his other arm, somewhat surprised it was still there. Moveover, the blood on his fingers and back of his hand was no longer black, but glowing silver. Spreading similar to how the rest of him was vanishing.

He had no idea how he knew, but this was his only chance left. A gift from the one who left him this way.

Reaching out, stretching, he grabbed his body’s arm.

He felt a chill breeze. Then the abyss won.

A silver light was all he felt for a long time. It was like he was… stuck in glue. Held in place by a force far stronger than himself. Neither restoring nor fading.

Wakening with a harsh gasp, aching his throat, Tedrick shot up grasping at the ground. The ground he was stuck to. By gravity. Air entered his lungs. Left them. Sounds filled his ears, scents filled his nose. His muscles ached, stiff and wonderful and alive.