Chapter Text
The void radiated brightness. Though it seemed inconceivable for emptiness to possess color, this void gleamed with a subtle white hue, occasionally adorned with pearlescent glimmers. Devoid of air, with no discernible floor or ceiling, it stretched endlessly in every direction. At times, lights flickered within the void, resembling a swarm of fireflies.
Within this expanse floated a soul, its form defying identification. Small and adorned with seven protrusions — two short and sharp, and five slightly longer — it constantly shifted and trembled. The sharp outgrowths twitched ceaselessly, while the longer ones pressed against its soft body, and the remaining three dangled weightlessly.
Shudder rippled through the soul as if nudged, and suddenly, two beads materialized on its form. Bright green and shimmering in the boundless void, they absorbed any semblance of light, reflecting the sparks that danced around them.
A soft rustle swept through the void, like ripples on water's surface. Then, like thunder in the silence, a voice pierced the void, "You've awakened!"
Delicate like a small bell, yet all-encompassing like a vacuum, the voice was a paradoxical blend. It belonged unmistakably to an enigmatic creature, bearing hints of femininity within its incomprehensibility.
"Excellent! We can commence our work," the voice chimed cheerfully.
New sounds emerged: muttering, the rustle of paper, the creak of a wooden chair. Though no paper, chair, or young woman occupied the empty expanse, the soul remained unperturbed. Or did it?
"I..." the soul whispered. Beneath the green beads, a new detail emerged — a mouth akin to the hole of a bagel.
"Ah, speaking, are we?" the voice responded, surprised. "Just don't let thoughts cloud your mind! Let's proceed with haste; I have much to attend to regarding War's affairs... Ahem!"
"So, you were a cat," the voice continued in a businesslike tone. More rustling and the sound of crumpled paper followed, as if leafing through an ancient tome. An equally ancient quill scratched across parchment.
The source of these sounds seemed simultaneously near and distant to the soul, which spun and floated aimlessly. Despite the warning against indulging in thoughts, one phrase seized hold of the part of the soul resembling a head — one with the green beads and the mouth — and solidified into a thought.
"A cat?"
The quill's squeak ceased abruptly, and the stranger muttered incomprehensibly — an unlikely sound from such a grand voice.
"Yes, a cat indeed, but that's inconsequential," came the reply, accompanied by the sound of writing. The notion of a cat began to take shape and expand within the soul's mind. There was a cat, and for some reason it was now a thought within the soul. The voice continued, "Red, somewhat striped... I recall a hat, perhaps?"
As the stranger spoke, several images flashed in the void: a vivid red patch crossed by a stripe shaped like a lightning bolt, and a hat — or rather, the idea of one — a vague image of all possible hats. The image of the red patch vanished while the hat continued to morph and drift.
The cat's gaze narrowed suspiciously at the hat. Extending one of its elongated outgrowths, it reached out and brushed against the hat's misty form, causing it to dissipate. Blinking its beady eyes in surprise, the cat's red, sharp triangles quivered atop its head.
"I was a cat... And a hat. Was there something else?" the soul whispered. Or, to be more precise, the cat whispered. Or, even more precisely, the cat's soul whispered.
"Well, was there anything else?" the stranger mused thoughtfully. "Perhaps some clothing? I'm not well-versed in your customs, you see. Although a cat in clothes would surely be amusing! I must admit, I have a soft spot for cats."
The cat's soul had yet to fully grasp its identity.
"A cat?" the soul pondered. Alright, it resolved to be a cat henceforth. If it had been a cat, then it still was a cat, and it could continue to be a cat. It made sense.
"It's simpler this way," the cat mused. "Cats seem to be fascinating creatures."
"Why... soft for cats?" the cat dared to inquire.
Quite simple and unequivocal! The soul was a cat now. And it even realized why there were seven outgrowths: the seventh was a cat's tail! The soul now had two ears, four paws, and one tail. The cat had almost no idea what a cat looked like, so its form remained vague, resembling a rough silhouette of a cat. Nevertheless, it managed to adopt a red hue and that fancy stripe. Unfortunately, the cat couldn't don the hat — it had vanished.
"You see, there was once another like you many rotations ago," the stranger sighed wistfully.
The space around the cat quivered slightly, and suddenly, a forest of towering ancient trees materialized, casting a somber darkness. Their massive trunks loomed, enveloping the surroundings in shadow. Silhouettes of animals and plants flickered like ethereal watercolor strokes — the cat couldn't recognize half of them.
"He was charming and spirited: he wandered wherever he pleased and desired whatever he wished," a white cat's silhouette, darting amidst the ancient grove, suddenly flashed among the trees, clearer and brighter than the rest. "I had to grant him more than one chan—"
In an instant, the illusion dissipated, leaving the cat's eyes stinging with the bright void that replaced it. The silhouette of the white cat was the last to fade, its eyes gleaming as bright as the morning sky.
"Ahem, enough chit-chat. You're rather distracting. So, who do you wish to be?"
"Who do I wish to be?" the cat queried in surprise. Responding to questions with questions seemed to be an effective strategy. Not that the nonexistent cat had any other strategies up its nonexistent sleeve.
"Well, on your next path, of course! Why else would I be conversing with you? Do you know who I am? Well, you needn't. Answer the question, and perhaps I'll consider your response."
In the cat's opinion, her question was rather foolish.
"But why would I desire to become someone if I've been someone previously?"
The stranger burst into laughter so uproarious that ripples coursed through the void once more.
"For a reposed soul, you pose quite a number of questions! It's been ages since I engaged in such discourse with one of you. You're quite amusing! There's a reason why my brother... Alright, I'm getting sidetracked again," she regained her composure, a loud clap punctuating her effort, followed by a couple of distinct and audible inhales and exhales, as though performing breathing exercises. "Anyway, the past holds no significance to you now. You've been granted the privilege of choosing your next incarnation. You can become nearly anything you desire! So, choose!"
Her new words remained somewhat perplexing to the cat who found the breathing exercises more impressive. Thus, it attempted to emulate them. However, a couple of problems immediately surfaced. Firstly, the cat's form lacked a nose, so it hastily fashioned something resembling a button in its place. Secondly, there was no air to breathe in the void. Consequently, the breathing exercises proved futile.
The cat scratched its newfound nose and listened as the voice, now reduced to a murmur again, said, "Let me peruse your approved list..." There was a rustling and crunching of old papers once more. "Ah, you've quite an extensive array, ranging from slime fungus to humans — I can endorse nearly anything in between. Just refrain from selecting a cat again; it wouldn't be as intriguing."
An illusion materialized before the cat once more. Initially, it resembled a peculiar yellow blot, which then blossomed into a flower, morphed into a mouse, transformed into a bird, a tree, a whale... The spectacle was mesmerizing, yet equally unsettling. Finally, the illusion completed its metamorphosis, revealing the blurred figure of a man before dissolving into thin air.
Gradually, the import of the stranger's words began to dawn on the cat's nearly-formed consciousness. To choose its next form? The cat wasn't prepared to embark on another journey without understanding how it...
"May I ask something?" the cat's voice resonated with newfound assurance.
"Of course, I'm in no rush at all," she retorted sarcastically. "It's been eons since I've conversed like this. Usually, reposed souls simply provide an answer, I approve it, and they embark on a new path. But you've proven unusually persistent. You behave like a restless soul, although you wouldn't be here if that were the case, ha-ha! Proceed!"
"Why am I here?"
The cat's entire being seemed to freeze, as though space and time themselves had halted. It felt as though the stranger leaned closer through the boundless void to whisper softly:
"Didn't I explain? You're dead."
In an instant, everything plunged into darkness, as though the sun had been eclipsed. The once luminous void turned black in a flash: devoid of white, blue, or shimmering hues. Fissures and ruptures punctured the darkness, like an ancient rag, emitting a faint crimson glow.
Petrified by this change, the cat attempted to flee, but there was nowhere to go — only weightlessness and an incomprehensible void surrounded it, now marred by crimson wounds. As if in freefall, the cat hurtled and spun. Panic set in, and it began flailing its paws. From his chest, concealed until now, a brilliant glow burst forth, blinding the cat and illuminating the void.
Then, as abruptly as it began, everything ceased.
"Wow, you decided to slumber, extinguished the light, and arrived here?" the same cheery voice chimed in after a pause. "This is unprecedented! Although I'm not keen on disturbing him: it tends to make him cranky. Let's return."
The cat was gently deposited back into the familiar pearlescent void. Even the spinning and flailing of its paws ceased; it merely reappeared in the same spot.
"How did you manage that?" the voice sounded even more excited than before. "What is it? Let me see!"
The cat felt a sharp pain in the place where its chest should have been. A glow, as radiant in whiteness as in darkness, erupted from its chest and ascended — toward where the stranger appeared to be.
"Hm-m, what does this remind me of... Ah! It resembles—!"
Now, her voice sounded like she desperately needed her breathing exercises. But the cat paid no heed to that: as the glow escaped its chest, an overwhelming sense of loss washed over it, causing it to crumple. Desperately, it reached for the light.
"Give it back, please! I don't know! I don't know anything!"
The glowing object swiftly returned and settled in the cat's outstretched paws. If it could sigh in relief, it would. It appeared the stranger had a penchant for abrupt gestures.
"Take it! That's it! I've got it! Stay here; I'll be right back!" the voice exuded even greater cheerfulness than before. Something nudged the cat's chest, compelling it to sit on what felt like a hard surface, though it was impossible moments ago. There followed a loud rumble, clinking, and crunching, as though someone had dropped furniture and miscellaneous items atop each other—some shattered, some trampled, and some scattered.
Distant footsteps echoed as though traversing an unseen corridor, and the stranger's jubilant laughter grew fainter:
"I'll be quick! Ha-ha-ha! Who would've thought this tale would unfold again! What a jest of—"
The last thing the cat discerned was her shimmering laughter receding into the distance, followed by silence once more.
***
The cat sat for a while (it was impossible to ascertain how long, lacking a clock), contemplating the stranger's words to the best of its ability. The glow still rested on its front paws — now calmed, it took the shape of a five-pointed star. Its warm amber radiance comforted and warmed the cat, dispelling panicked thoughts and allowing it to focus on a crucial realization.
The realization that the cat couldn't recall its name. The same cycle of questions repeated in its mind: "Am I dead? But who am I? Was I a cat? Is the cat deceased...?"
Finally, the cat resolved to converse with the only other sentient entity in this void — the glow. Somehow, it seemed apparent that everything in the void possessed sentience.
"Listen, do you know my name?"
One of the star's sharp points flickered, as if displaying its splendor.
"So, you know it but won't disclose it. Very well. I'll attempt to guess, and you shine if I am correct," to this, the star sparkled in agreement.
The cat scratched its head in contemplation.
"Sparkle?"
The star dimmed in negation.
"Fluffball?"
No response, only an irritated gleam.
"What if... Cat is my name?"
The star winked nervously, implying, "Not quite."
"Almost right... Perhaps Feline? Kitty?.. Puss?"
A jubilant shimmer appeared in its paws, and the cat smiled in response. A moment later, the star winked again — something was still amiss.
"Okay, um..." Puss scanned the emptiness around him and recollected. "The stranger mentioned I was adorned in attire, specifically... Puss... in a Hat?"
The star twinkled like a festive garland, even quivering. But it wasn't a sign of agreement.
"Are you joking? Puss in a Hat? How amusing," Puss snorted. "First, mocked by some celestial entity, and now by a star. It worsens with each passing hour."
He stretched out his hind legs tiredly. Sitting now, he could feel his weight, a sensation as novel as conversing with a star. Meanwhile, the star continued to shimmer and shake as if the whole "cat in a hat" situation was the best joke of the century.
"Well, you do you, and I can manage without your help."
Tucking his hind legs under him, he leaned on his front paws. The star slipped from his grasp and began performing joyful loops and pirouettes around him. Puss persisted, managing to straighten up on all fours. Then, with a push from his front paws against the invisible floor, he rose onto his hind legs.
"Voila!"
Puss joyfully took his first step, then another, and one more, until his gait was steady enough for a quiet walk. The star continued to flutter around him, occasionally getting tangled in his hind paws.
"What are you doing? Yeah, I'm just taking a walk, what's the big deal? There's nowhere to go anyway; it's the same thing everywhere. We can't just fly and sit around... Ah!" Puss experienced a small epiphany as he glanced at his hind legs. "I'm walking on my hind legs! Is that normal for cats? What about hats? And talking? How do I know all this stuff?"
Meanwhile, the star continued to twirl and dance around him like a miniature cyclone, shimmering and trembling with mirth.
But Puss didn't manage to complete his troubled thought. Once more, he heard the same footsteps in an invisible corridor, laughter and rumbling. Then, the same jovial voice of the stranger resurfaced, as though continuing a conversation with someone else:
"Ha-ha-ha, you won't believe it! Wait, where'd he go? Kitten! Ps-ps-ps!" at this call, Puss was jolted as if struck by lightning. "Ah, there you are! I warned you not to wander. It's impossible to locate anything amidst such chaos; I could scarcely discern you! Good thing you're bright and red and possess that shimmering... Ahem, let's call it 'Starlight'. Do you fancy the new moniker, sweetie?"
The little luminous rogue sparkled in affirmation and flaunted one of its radiant sharp edges.
"You mischievous little rascal," the stranger was charmed. "I'll be buried in paperwork because of you, but that's a concern for later..."
"Apologies for the intrusion, but what's happening here?" Puss leaped to his hind legs once more; he could no longer endure his ignorance. "What is this Starlight? Or who? And who are you?"
"I'm unable to provide answers to your inquiries, kitten. You'll need to discern them in another manner," she chuckled conspiratorially, and Puss could have sworn he detected another laugh. "I'm going to release you from here; you've already found your way out of my Reception Hall on your own. Once you've sorted everything out, we'll converse anew, and you can divulge everything to me. But for now... Farewell!"
And Puss was ejected.