You open your eyes and the light floods your mind, so much so that you have to squint. The last thing you remember is crossing the road, then a loud honk of a car horn, a bang, and then darkness. A murky silhouette emerges among the white patches, imprinting itself in your mind with soft waves of hair, then...the curve of a graceful but strong neck...a white mesh over honey skin...piercing eyes, dark...the movement of lips...a touch. This seems to be the end, you think. What's next? Angel gates, marshmallow clouds? But the sluggishness of your thoughts is broken by a hoarse voice:

Hey, are you going to die? Come on, don't be ridiculous, you're barely hit!

The fog dissipates, and the young man takes a drag on his cigarette with a smug grin and blows the bitter smoke in your face. From the angelic features, still the same pale pink waves of hair, the youthful face...but there is a twist.

Welcome to earth, unlucky corpse. Can you walk?

He gives you an assessing look and flicks his cigarette aside, then holds out his hand. His fingers are delicate, brightly manicured, a scattering of rings.