They say all dogs go to heaven, but I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.

  I died an old pug on Earth—greying snout, wheezing breath, belly rubs on demand. My human called me Mr. Tater. A silly name, but I wore it with pride. We had a good life, the two of us. Long walks when I could still manage them. Chicken scraps under the table. The occasional humiliating sweater. Then, one night, I curled up at the foot of the bed and... that was it. No pain. Just sleep.

  Next thing I know, I’m not dead.

  I'm blind with newborn eyes, surrounded by warmth and the scent of fur. But it’s not my human. Not my world. And definitely not my body. Or… well, it is my body. Still a pug. But everything else?

  Let’s just say, Earth never had airships belching steam into lavender skies, nor armored knights with rifles slung across their backs. And it definitely didn’t have my new mother—a divine being in the shape of a colossal wolf, with eyes like molten gold and fur that shimmered like moonlit oil. Her name is Lady Aurelith, Mother Matron of Sunmire. A “godbeast” they call her. Worshipped in temples. Feared in war. Her howl bends the winds of fate itself.

  And somehow, I’m one of her pups.

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  My siblings are... radiant. Each of them looks like something out of a holy painting: fur like spun silver, limbs that will grow to be as graceful as stags. And then there’s me—still squat, snub-nosed, wheezing at birth. A cosmic joke in pug form. Again.

  But this time, something’s different. In this world, I’ve inherited more than fur. I can think. Truly think. My thoughts are no longer just barks and instincts. I understand language, ideas, even the complexity of who I was before.

  I remember Earth.

  My human.

  Cartoons.

  Bacon.

  I also understand shame.

  The priestesses whisper that I’m "the runt," "the cursed." I see it in the eyes of the steamblood nobles when we’re presented—they bow to my siblings, and flinch when I snort. Even the clerics who tend us would sometimes avert their gaze. But Mother? Lady Aurelith? She sees something else. She watches me with that molten gaze, not pitying… but waiting.

  I don’t know why I’m here, or what destiny this world thinks I’m supposed to fulfill. But if the gods brought a pug into a family of divine beasts, maybe they weren’t looking for another warrior.

  So I’ll learn. I’ll explore this land of brass towers and enchanted forests. I may not look like much—but I’ve got brains now, and a second chance.

  And if this world thinks it can break me with sideways glances and backhanded blessings?

  They’re barking up the wrong dog.