As a true connoisseur of the genre of food known as the microwave meal, let it be known that not all potpies are created equal. I preferred chicken over turkey or beef, and Marie Calendar when I could get it. Unfortunately, this month had seen a variety of truly spectacular pin projects popping up on Kickstarter and I was nothing if not a hoarder of shiny things.

Which left me with the shitty potpie with the crumbly crust that would make a mess all over my bed if I ate in my room. I would say that eating hunched over the sink like a college goblin was beneath me but that would be a lie. It had been an altogether typical Tuesday, to be honest: wake up, go to work, avoid duties, come home, eat, kill time, sleep, and repeat.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, licked my lips and-

I was weightless, floating in an infinite space of darkness, broken with pinpricks of pale light in a rainbow of pastels. There was a soft chiming sound coming from the lights, like the weird sparkle sound effect that played to emphasize romance in pop songs, but crossed with a soft high-pitched murmur like the barely-heard conversation of children in another room.

My hands were visible when I brought them in front of my face. My body was still there when I looked for it. That was a relief. I blinked once, twice, and then as fast as I could for what might have been minutes, hoping against hope that I would blip back into reality.

No dice.

Soul measure complete…

That. Was a screen?

A MENU SCREEN?!

Like a shitty PowerPoint effect, the words dissolved and were immediately replaced-

Personality measure complete… initiating Guide Protocol.

The screen rippled, and then bunched up like a crumpled tissue, compacting before my eyes. It condensed, smoothed out, and then grew four limbs and a head. As I watched, features developed and definition replaced the blobby consistency until I was staring at myself, made of pale purple light and wearing a bubbly smile.

“Hello!”

I blinked some more.

“Hey! Listen to me!”

More blinking, followed by heel-clicking: There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home-

“That’s not going to work!” the purple me said, folding her arms and sticking her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Are you trying to make a perch for the birds?” I asked and then immediately regretted it. I sounded like my mother, and that was much more existentially horrifying than floating in a glimmering void.

Purple Me beamed, “I am trying to annoy you!”

“It’s working.”

“I know!”

There was silence between us and her smile never wavered. After a few moments of staring I realized that she wasn’t even breathing, which made me start wondering if I was breathing, and-

Nope. Not going there.

“All right, I’ll bite. Why are you trying to annoy me?”

“Based on your Personality Profile it was determined that outright obnoxiousness was the best way to expedite your decision-making process!” Purple Me chirped, somehow still smiling. I had never seen my face do that before (apparently I have dimples?) and it was hitting all sorts of uncanny valley buttons in my poor, confused brain.

I shelved the smile thing and focused on Purple Me’s words. “Personality Prof – wait, decisions? What decisions?”

“Exposition time!” Purple Me sang in an ascending scale that made my ears ring. “You are going to a new universe and must choose many aspects of your new self before you arrive!”

“What? WHY?”

“Why what?”

“Why am I going to a new universe?”

“Reasons!” Purple Me said, winking and miming zipping her lips.

“Why do I have to choose a new self?”

“Because your current self has been deemed very likely to die in speedy and gruesome fashion!”

I pressed my fingers to my temples and closed my eyes, thinking quickly. I had been chosen? Maybe at random or maybe for some specific reason? Whoever or whatever was behind this didn’t want me to die immediately for reasons. My current ‘self’ was not suitable for my destination. Whoever was driving this wanted or needed me to make my choices quickly, otherwise why ‘expedite?’

“Okay. Uh. What happens if I refuse to make any decisions?”

Purple Me made a sad face complete with puppy eyes. I hadn’t even realized my face was capable of puppy eyes. “If you don’t choose, your selections will be randomized, but you don’t want that.”

“I don’t?”

“You don’t want someone else making decisions for you!”

That was true, but I was feeling less and less like I had a choice in ANY of this. “What’s the first decision?”

Purple Me twirled and struck a pose like something out of Sailor Moon. “Race!”

“…what. Wait, no, that wasn’t a – fuck,” I said, rubbing my temples again. “What are my most human-like options?”

Several lights from our surroundings brightened and flew towards us, forming a circle around me and Purple Me. Each light was a different color, and each light bulged and shivered until it had formed into a featureless facsimile of a humanoid. Some looked almost like people, some looked more like beasts, and all of them were naked.

I spun in a slow circle, counting off eight potential ‘races’ for me to choose from.

“Okay, definitely not that one, or that one, OR that one,” I said, pointing at something very furry, something covered in scales (with a tail!), and what looked like a mermaid. The idea of grooming that much hair, fur, or whatever was incredibly daunting, I did not intend to shed a skin unless sunburned, and I was scared of deep water.

Purple Me pouted again. “But! Mermaids!”

“Fuck no,” I said, turning to look at the remaining five options. I tried to take in the whole without focusing on any details, the featureless faces were somewhat…creepy. “Can you make them look as much like my current self as is possible within the limits of the species?”

“Bo-ring,” Purple Me sighed and blew a raspberry.

“Just do it.”

All five rippled and smoothed out into approximations of me. Hair grew, height embiggened, and on two of the figures the hips and bust shrank while the other three got bigger. Looking closer I saw more fantasy races I recognized: a lean elf, a stocky dwarf, a cat girl (?!), something with horns, and last but not least, something leafy.

“Is that one a mammal?”

“Noooo…”

“Yeah, nah,” I said, waving it away.

“Bo-ring,” Purple Me whispered mournfully as Dryad Me disappeared.

“Okay,” I said, cracking my knuckles, “Now we’re getting somewhere. What are the benefits and drawbacks of the remaining options? What kind of cultures will I be dealing with, technology level, magic, that kind of thing.”

“Spoilers!”

“You’re shitting me.”

Purple Me giggled and shook her head. “I’d never shit you, you’re my favorite turd!”

“Fine. FINE. What can you tell me?”

She waved a hand and text boxes sprang up beside each version of me.

Grumbling, I stalked over to the elf first.

Baseline Elf DEX +2 / CHA +2 / CON -2 Immune to Charm Effects,

Weak to Sleep Effects

The wisdom thing was a surprise because it flew in the face of my limited knowledge of Tolkien and related fantasy tropes. The immunity to Charm Effects sounded good, but I wasn’t so sure about a Sleep weakness.

“What does ‘Baseline’ mean?”

“Each species comes with a range of heritage options!”

“Can I see those too?”

“Not until you select a species!”

“You want me to make choices, but won’t give me all the information.”

Purple Me shrugged. “That’s right!”

“I just want it on the record that this is bullshit.”

“Noted!”

Next up was the dwarf, which I was tempted to discount on height alone. Walking closer showed me that the height difference was nowhere near as exaggerated as I had feared. The dwarf was, by my estimate, about 5’6. The height wouldn’t be a problem, the problem was the boobs. Dwarf Me’s proportions were closer to Jessica Rabbit’s than seemed anatomically possible.

“Does this place have sports bras?”

“Nope!”

“Then no way,” I said, pointing to the dwarf and – with slightly more reluctance – the horned being, which suffered from the same over-endowment. That left me with the elf and the cat girl, both of which obligingly floated closer. Cat Me had ridiculously fluffy-looking ears and a long tail with a bit of a plume on the end. I shook my head and ignored the aesthetics for the moment to focus on the screen.

Baseline Felynx DEX +2 / INT +2 / WIS -2 Immune to Knockdown Effects,

Weak to Sensory Disruption Effects

I looked from one to the other before sighing. This was an important decision. It would affect the rest of my life in whatever new world would be my home. It would alter my very self. I looked over at Purple Me, who had wide eyes and an eager look on her face. “Could you conjure up a coin for me?”

“OOH! Random but with limitations?!”

“Yes. I guess. Heads, it’s the elf and tails for the cat…thing.”

Purple Me nodded so hard I thought (hoped) her neck might snap. “Gotcha!” She pulled a coin out from behind her ear and tossed it at me with a twirl.

I grabbed it and smacked it down into my other hand. My dad had always told me that in the moment the coin was in the air you would know which option you truly wanted. It hadn’t worked like that for me this time: when I opened my hand and saw ‘heads,’ I didn’t feel much of anything.

“No furry tail?” Purple Me whined.

“Nope.”

The cat girl disappeared and the elf floated closer to me. I took the time to study the Elf Me a little more carefully. The eyes were a little bigger, nose didn’t look like it had ever been broken, and there wasn’t a scar on the chin. Overall, the elf was leaner than I was, and a bit shorter and curvier than what seemed to be ‘average’ for the race.

“What’s next?”

“Heritage!” Purple Me trilled.

“All right, hit me.”

Four boxes popped up in front of me.

Woodland Elf Your people have not forgotten the hard-earned lessons of the Old Home, but nor do they eschew the changes wrought by the Migration. You can always find a way. WIS +2

DEX +2 Plant Knowledge, History Knowledge, Unerring Direction Salt Elf Your people have cleaved to the sea, and for you the Migration is eternal. The water is bred into your blood and bone. CON +2

DEX +2 Seafaring,

History Knowledge,

Lesser Waterbreath Aellor Elf A throwback, or perhaps a child of one of the Pure Minded, you are a relic of the Old Home. You do not bow, you do not bend, yours is the will undying.

CHA +2

INT +2

CON -2

History Knowledge,

Magic Knowledge,

Racial Memory,

Lesser Resistance (Mental) Changeling Child of a Shaper, or victim of one, you have not broken under their Arcane influence, but grown. You will become what you were meant to be. Variable Instinctual Knowledge, Variable Skill Gain (2-5)

“Nope,” I said, pointing at the Salt Elf. “And starting with a negative four on any trait seems dumb.”

Two options dissolved, leaving me with the Woodland and Changeling options.

“Numbers are-“

“Bo-ring,” Purple Me said, quivering with repressed energy. “Are you going random?! Changeling?!”

What the hell. Apparently, you do live more than once.

“Yes, I choose Changeling.”

The Changeling box drifted over to the Baseline Elf box and merged with it before my eyes, but it didn’t resolve into anything legible. There was a blurry effect covering the entire thing, but I could still make out the text growing in length. It sent a vague chill down my spine and made me almost regret my choice.

“What’s next?”

“Based on your Soul Matrix, we are done!” Purple Me said, smiling beatifically.

“What, really?”

She started ticking items off on her hands, “Class has been discarded because you would resent any preset options and impede your growth. Starting appearance is based on your previous choices and the Variable generation within the Changeling choice. Starting point is determined by heritage. Stats are allocated via Soul Matrix and racial/heritage choices. Yes, we’re done!”

“I have some questions-“

“Just in time, we’re here!”

“Wha-“

Purple Me zoomed over and set her hands on my shoulders. “You should know that your hesitance was noted and utilized to input additional parameters on the Changeling Variables. Welcome to Xorm, we hope you enjoy your stay, Traveler!”

I had time to make a ‘buh’ sound and then she was shoving me and I was falling, subject to gravity once more as the black receded into blue and white and-

I knew no more.