"Hi there! I’m Keira. Once upon a time, I was a waitress on Earth, but I’m guessing you already figured out I’m not exactly 'in-sector' anymore. If you guessed I was taken out by the legendary Truck-kun? One point for you! If you guessed it was a total cliché? DING! Right again. I’d give you the gory details, but the Goddess mentioned something about 'soul deterioration' and 'repressed trauma.' Honestly? Sounds like a her problem. Anyways, I’m rambling. It’s time to start the story or else my Mis— Ow! Hey! What do you mean 'spoilers'? Ugh. Meanie. Fine. Let’s start at the beginning."

  By “beginning,” I mean when everything went tits up and I died. The st thing I remembered was screaming, a painful crash, and then nothing. For what felt like an eternity I floated in a dark void, voiceless and bodiless, drifting aimlessly. There was no sound, no wind, no heartbeat, just endless, suffocating silence. Then suddenly it felt as though I woke up.

  I blinked my eyes—wait, I had eyes now? When they finally adjusted and I could see my surroundings, I froze. I was in a cage. Cold iron bars surrounded me on all sides, smelling faintly of rust and old rain, and rough wooden pnks formed the floor beneath my hands, splintered and worn smooth in pces from years of use.

  And I wasn’t alone. Cages stretched out in rows around me, some stacked two high. Inside them were people—well, mostly people. My eyes darted from one to the next as my brain tried to process it. Fox-kin with twitching ears, wolf-kin with sharp eyes and thick tails, rabbit-kin clutching the bars nervously, cat-kin grooming their hands with slow, anxious motions, and deer-kin whose antlers brushed the tops of their cages. I even spotted what looked like a squirrel-kin, her bushy tail wrapped tightly around herself like a bnket.

  “What the hell? What kind of weird ass reincarnation is this?” I grumbled.

  My voice sounded rough, like I hadn’t used it in a while. I ran my hands through my hair—my bck—wait, bck? My hands froze. My hair wasn’t bck, it was brown, and a strange warmth brushed the top of my head, followed by a faint twitch that definitely hadn’t come from me consciously. Slowly, cautiously, I raised my hands and felt around. Soft. Warm. Fuzzy. Two fluffy ears sat on top of my head. I stared at the bars of my cage for a moment, brain completely bnk.

  “…Well that’s new.”

  Panic hit a second ter as my hands whipped down to my lower back. Yep, there was a tail, long, thick, and fluffy, sprouting directly from my tailbone. It flicked once, not because I told it to, and I twisted around awkwardly to look at it, eyes narrowing like it might suddenly attack me. The fur was pure snowy white, marked with scattered bck rosettes. Beautiful, really, the pattern almost painted on. Pretty sure my ears matched. I eyed the tail—my tail—like it might bite me, and looking around at the other occupants of the room it was pretty clear what had happened: I had been reincarnated as one of them. And judging by the rosette pattern on my tail, a snow leopard beast-kin. Huh. Cool. Weird. Slightly arming.

  Before I could spiral too far over the fact that I was no longer technically human, the heavy wooden door at the far end of the room creaked open. Footsteps echoed across the stone floor, and every head in the room snapped toward the entrance. A tall woman with sharply pointed ears and fine, elegant cheekbones strode inside like she owned the pce. Judging by the immediate reaction of everyone around me, she probably did. She flicked a switch on the wall, and bright light flooded the room, making my eyes water instantly and stabbing at them with sudden brightness. Apparently my new eyes were a lot more sensitive than my old ones.

  When my vision cleared again, the room looked even worse than before. The cages, the worn floor, the faint smell of straw, sweat, and metal hanging in the air. A few of the older-looking beast-kin shrank away from the woman the moment they saw her. Others pressed eagerly toward the front of their cages, tails wagging or ears perked as if hoping for attention. I blinked. That was not the reaction I expected.

  The woman walked down the row calmly, occasionally reaching through the bars to give one of them a brief rub on the head. Those who received the attention looked almost absurdly pleased with themselves.

  As she stepped closer, the light caught her face properly for the first time: sharp cheekbones, tall, elegant build, and those unmistakably pointed ears.

  Yep. She was definitely an elf. She continued down the row with quiet confidence, like someone entirely used to being obeyed. I stared. Okay. That was definitely weird. But then her gaze shifted, and nded on me. Her dark brown eyes felt like they were looking straight through my skull. A chill ran down my spine. Without my permission, my ears fttened against my head and my tail curled around itself in small, nervous loops. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had already retreated to the back of my cage.

  The elf stopped directly in front of my cage. For a moment she simply studied me in silence. Her eyes moved slowly from the top of my head down to the end of my tail, taking in every detail with the quiet focus of someone inspecting fine craftsmanship. When her gaze lingered on the bck rosette markings scattered across my white fur, the faintest hint of satisfaction touched her expression.

  “Well now,” she murmured. “So the merchants weren’t exaggerating.”

  She crouched gracefully in front of the cage, folding down onto one knee so she was closer to my eye level. Even like that she somehow managed to look composed and elegant, like kneeling was simply another way to loom over someone.

  “A snow leopard.”

  One slender hand reached forward, not through the bars yet, just resting lightly against them.

  “Those are rare.”

  Her gaze flickered briefly to my ears, then to my tail again as it moved.

  “And very beautiful.”

  She tilted her head slightly, observing me the way a trainer might observe a new animal’s temperament.

  “Nervous, though. That’s to be expected. You only arrived st night after all.”

  She straightened again, smooth and unhurried, then walked to the side of the cage where a small wooden tag had been tied to the bars. She gnced down at it briefly.

  “Female. Good health. Recently matured.”

  Her eyes lifted back to me. “Yes… you’ll do nicely.”

  She reached into a pocket at her belt and pulled out a small ring of iron keys.

  “You’re fortunate, little one. Snow leopards have a reputation for being excellent companions once properly trained.”

  The key slid into the lock. “And I am very good at training.”

  The lock clicked open with a clean metallic snap. She pulled my cage door outward just a few inches, not enough to step inside yet, but enough to make the invitation unmistakable.

  Then she waited. Watching. Evaluating.

  “Come here.”

  Her tone wasn’t harsh. It was the voice someone might use to call a well-behaved pet. Calm, and certain, expecting obedience.