While Reid kneeled on the stoop, gasping for breath, Martin shut the door behind him, the wood creaking softly as he eased it closed, careful not to wake the sleeping infants.

  Walking over, he placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder.

  “Not everyone who dies is old enough to fend for themselves. This place is one shred of decency in Diyu, if you can call it that.”

  “How? How do they reincarnate if they can’t earn karma?” Reid asked hoarsely. Until now, he’d seen this messed up version of the afterlife as inevitable. It wasn’t like he had a say in how the Kings of Diyu ran the place. If they were too lazy or didn’t care enough, who was he to say otherwise?

  He was dead, and so was everyone else here.

  “Even the Kings of Diyu aren’t that cruel, or maybe they just don’t want the trouble. Infants don’t need to sustain their vessels with karma.” Martin glanced back inside through the single, large window, eyes glistening with tears. “One hundred cycles. It was one hundred cycles when my daughter finally moved on, disappearing into the reincarnation cycle.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  He could just imagine how often Martin visited the building, how many times he checked to see if his daughter was gone. Reid glared at the empty void above them, disgusted more by the Kings’ half measures than anything else. If infants didn’t have to redeem karma to reincarnate, why not let them enter the cycle of rebirth right away and save everyone the heartache?

  “What about… the other children? The older ones?” The sinking feeling in his stomach said he knew the answer, but Reid asked anyway, hoping he was wrong. From what Martin had said, there were only infants in that building. A fresh wave of fury washed over him at the thought of a young child, burdened with memories of their past life, waking up in Diyu alone.

  Perhaps there was a reason Charon didn’t ferry everyone across the River of Oblivion.

  When Martin remained silent, Reid shot one last glance at the building before slapping his cheeks. The pain brought clarity, and he cleared his throat.

  “Alright. If I want to make it back to my old life, I don’t have time to waste falling apart here. Martin, where’s that shop you were talking about?”

  “You mean you’re actually going to try to get your old life back? Do you know how much that costs?”

  “I refuse to move on, knowing there’s a chance I can make it back to my old life. Why shouldn’t I try?” Reid replied heatedly. It didn't matter how much it cost. There was an opportunity, and he was going to take it. He didn’t spend the last four years of his life in college to waste it.

  Martin whistled a long, drawn out note.

  “I warned you not to waste your karma and get a revival scroll, but damn kid, you’d better get more than one, if that’s what you’re after. Only way you’re going to rack up that much karma is if you dive into the Hellscape and stay there. I just can’t believe you actually want to gamble on returning.”

  “I assumed it was obvious.” Reid frowned. While there must be some people happy to move on and start a new life, surely the majority had friends or loved ones they wished to return to? Why wouldn’t they take the chance?

  “Sure people want to return,” Martin ran a hand over his scalp, fingering a long jagged scar that curved just above his ear, “but it’s damn near impossible. Reincarnating requires four hundred and fifty karma, but returning to life? That costs a thousand.”

  He kicked a rock, and Reid watched it shoot across the ground and into the side of a bright yellow building a few stalls down.

  “A thousand karma, huh?” He grunted. A few hundred or a few thousand karma didn’t matter. Reid was no stranger to hard work. Returning was possible, and that was good enough for him. He summoned his menu screen, swiping down the list to find where he could buy a revival scroll. Impulsiveness had been his downfall once already. He might be eager to get going, but compared to back then, the consequences were far higher this time around.

  To his surprise, there were options to view his vessel’s level, the skill tree he’d unlocked with his Perception ability, as well as buttons for inventory, equipment, and spells, but none of them indicated where he could buy items.

  Reid turned to Martin, gesturing to the screen.

  “I don’t see a shop on the menu. Where do I buy items?”

  Martin sighed wearily.

  “Only place you can use karma is at physical shops or the Karma Redemption Service. See that bright yellow building?”

  Reid nodded.

  “Those are enchanter shops. They deal with enchanting magical artifacts, and sell revival scrolls, too.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Reid raced down the street before the man finished speaking.

  The shop in question was larger than it appeared. Despite being sandwiched between two massive stalls, a crafting shop on one side and on the other a plain, straight sided gray building with no windows, the enchanter’s shop stood out. A handful of people milled around the entrance, waiting for their turn. The old woman with weathered skin and thinning gray hair smiled from behind the counter, helping each of her customers before turning her crinkling eyes their way.

  “Helping the new arrivals again, Martin?” She turned, the lines on her face deepening when she laid eyes on Reid.

  “I’m Agatha, finest enchanter this side of the barrier. If Martin led you to me, you must be here for a revival scroll.”

  A battered looked roll of parchment appeared in her overturned palm, and she placed it on the counter for him to inspect.

  Reid glanced at it with concern. The parchment, yellow with age, looked like it would crumble with the slightest touch.

  “I’ll give you a deal this time, since you’re a friend of Martin’s. Just twenty-five karma per scroll.”

  Martin stepped forward to lean against the counter, tapping a rhythm against the painted wood. After noticing Reid’s calculating look, he chuckled heartily.

  “It’s a better deal than you’ll find in the KRM. Trust me, buy as many as you can. You can transfer karma and items through touch, so long as both parties are in agreement. A simple handshake is enough. If you want to withdraw items from your inventory, you can open your status screen and make a grabbing motion over the slot. For large quantities, most crafting tables operate through touch as well, and there are storage banks scattered throughout the Valley. You can even purchase vouchers through the KRM for more secure transactions if you’re worried about theft.”

  Reid thought back to the shimmering screen, which appeared in his vision the moment the thought crossed his mind. He flinched, the sudden brightness burning his already strained eyes even after the screen dimmed obligingly. He glanced at his remaining karma points, weighing his options. It would leave him with nothing left, but spending it all on revival scrolls seemed like a solid plan. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about dying in the Hellscape.

  “I’ll take three.”

  Not liking the idea of items being automatically removed from his inventory, Reid withdrew the karma, a small pile of blank white disks the size of fingernails pooling onto the counter.

  Agatha swiped an arm across the counter, the disks vanishing in a shocking display of speed, before dropping the scrolls into Reid’s waiting hands.

  He grasped them gingerly, afraid he might crush the fragile-looking item.

  “Don’t be so worried. Whatever those scrolls are made of, they don’t break, and now that you own them, you could chuck them across a sea of lava and they would find their way back to you, just like any other item.” Agatha chuckled and nodded reassuringly. “So long as you have those on you, the scrolls will trigger automatically should you be dealt a fatal blow in the Hellscape.”

  Reid opened his inventory to deposit the revival scrolls and saw another item called a quick access band. Pulling it out, he held it up and looked between Martin and Agatha.

  “What is this?”

  The black knitted band was about three inches wide, and looked a lot like the wristbands used by joggers he’d seen around the park back home, but this one had four white stones embellishing one side.

  “Definitely something you want to wear at all times. You can’t access the menu in the Hellscape, but you can bind four different items to that quick access band. One of those slots should, of course, be the revival scrolls you just purchased.”

  “If you have several of the same item, you can access as many of them as you have in your inventory, so be sure to stop by again.” Agatha chimed in.

  Martin nodded, pointing to the stones.

  “Just tap the stone three times in rapid succession to activate the bound item. As for the revival scrolls, trust me when I say you don’t want it to. Worst feeling in the world. It’s like an acid trip mashed together with the worst hangover of a lifetime, but so much worse. After that, you’ll have immunity to attacks, but it only lasts a few minutes. My advice? If you’re unlucky enough for one of those to activate—you run like the wind and get out of there.”

  While Reid’s overactive imagination was trying to figure out just how bad the side effects were from using a revival scroll, Martin wandered a few steps ahead. Spinning around, he clapped both hands on Reid’s shoulders and grinned.

  “All right. I can see he’s already champing at the bit. Agatha, I’ll bring your next victi—ahem, customer by later.” Martin waved to her before pointing down the street. “Well, Reed, let’s go. My place is this way.”

  They’d only gone a block down before Reid guessed which building must be Martin’s. As he expected, Martin sauntered up to it, flourishing his hands in a display almost as showy as the building itself.

  “And here we are. The Alveraz Inn.”

  “You know, when you said you ran an inn, this is not what I expected.”

  The building looked like a high-rise straight out of New York City. Sleek windows with mirror coatings covered the front side and from its height, Reid guessed there had to be at least thirty or forty floors above ground. If the place had a basement, then Martin had no business calling this an inn.

  “It started off as one. I’ve been here long enough and racked up the karma to do a few upgrades, is all. So, ready to rent one of my rooms? Every room has a storage box for any items you can’t carry with you.”

  “Sorry, I spent everything on those revival scrolls. But after I earn some karma, I’ll be sure to come here first,” Reid replied absentmindedly, craning his neck to stare at the top of the high rise, and realized the sky was no longer the black void it had been when he first arrived. Something gleamed in the air high above even the tallest buildings like an enormous, blue-white moon, but instead of a circle, it looked like some sort of knot.

  “Can you see that?”

  “No, but I know what you’re talking about. The Endless Knot.”

  Moving away from the door, Martin’s face was grim as he grabbed a large stone, carving a pattern into the ground at Reid’s feet. “How full is it?”

  The man’s body was tense, his arms stiff and tight like a drawn bowstring.

  With a feeling of dread, Reid’s gaze shifted from the sky to the drawing scribbled on the ground. Only a sliver more, and the Endless Know would be full.

  “Nearly full.”

  Cold, icy dread flooded his veins, chilling Reid to the bone. Whatever it was, he had the distinct impression he wasn’t going to like it.