I died in the middle of the ocean.

I can't remember why I was alone, or what I was doing all the way out there. All I remember was the swirling waves, the tempest raging above the surface, the lightning flashes filtering through the water.

Drowning was a rather beautiful way to die, if I'm honest. I was terrified, of course, and I tried to break the surface several times, but once my muscles had given up, and the tension had released from my body, I found myself appreciating the majesty of it all as the world faded to black.

Coming back, however. That is not fun, don't let anyone tell you any different.

I feel sun on my skin, and a strange tingling sensation that starts in my core and travels to my limbs, to my head and my fingers and my toes. I lurch upwards, gasping for air, feeling the oppressive ocean on my lungs.

"Relax, young human. You are fine."

I blink, the light too sharp for my eyes. I squint to the figure at my side. As my eyes adjust to the light, I see that the figure is wearing a long robe and clutching a staff at his side. He seems to be wearing something on his head, as I see two little lumps on the top. He is large, and I rub my eyes out for a final time.

And I see a bear's face peering into my own.

I yelp, flinching backwards, and end up falling off the table I was perched on. I land in a crumpled heap and let out a groan.

The bear thing comes around and reaches out a massive paw, tutting. "I know my eye is a bit disconcerting but there's really no need to be so rude, young man!" he says.

I stare at his paw, at the claws as long as my fingers, the calloused, worn pads. And stare a bit more.

"Young man? Don't you want to get off the floor?" I look up, up, up, and see that the bear is wearing spectacles, and one eye is droopy and red. I stifle a delirious giggle and take his paw hesitantly, looking around.

We're in some sort of town square, it seems. What I thought was a table was an altar, made of a fine marble and looking centuries old.

Buildings surrounded us on all sides. They weren't the skyscrapers of the city, but they weren't little, either. It reminded me of pictures in the old history books. There was a road, and strange-looking cars driving by. But what caught my attention was the crowd.

A crowd of animals on their back legs, just like the bear. I saw a whole menagerie of animals, pushing and shoving each other, trying to see past the blockade of police. As an officer barked an order, I saw that they, too, were animals, dogs and leopards and horses and every creature imaginable.

Suddenly, someone cried out, and the police barricade on one side breaks. Animal-people come rushing towards us, shouting various questions. The bear mage thing puts up a shield around us with a simple tap of his staff, and I watch in awe as the people flock around us, held back by the invisible barricade.

"Excuse me! Hi, I'm from Fox News," a pretty red fox in a dress says, waving her notebook at me. A cat holds a camera angled towards me, but she pulls my attention again. "You're the first human to be seen in centuries! Tell us, how are you feeling?"

"Uh..." I stammer.

"Is it true that the humans used to go to the moon?" a badger calls out.

"Why don't you have any fur on the rest of your body? Don't you guys get scratched up easily?" a dog calls out.

"Is it true that you humans used to keep animals in cages?" a pelican shouts from the back.

"Shut up, Jeb!" a few people - animals - moan.

I'm feeling overwhelmed. All the animals are trying to reach through the barrier, trying to touch my skin, and all of them are demanding my attention. As far as I know, I was dead two minutes ago and now I am being peppered with questions.

I think I prefer death.

The bear steers me away from the crowd, a protective paw clamped firmly on my shoulder. My head is spinning and I feel queasy, but I can't stop, not with the crowd of animals on our tail. A polar bear runs to catch up and asks me something about flying - what a polar bear would want up in the air is beyond me.

Finally, I'm hustled into a building, and the door is closed on all the curious animals. A word comes back to me: anthropomorphism. I explained to my little sister once that animals don't actually have feelings, and that books use anthropomorphism in children's stories to appeal to their empathy. She didn't understand all the big words.

These beings are anthropomorphs. I turn to the bear, who is watching me solemnly.

"I resurrected you for a reason, Dylan." He knows my name? "Humans went extinct almost a millennium ago, and no one knows why. We don't have much time. The Thousandth Year is in a few weeks."

"Wait... what?" I say, trying to wrap my head around what he's telling me. I've been dead for more than a thousand years. I'm the only human alive right now. And there's some sort of deadline?

Sorry, too much like a videogame.

"Listen, man, you've clearly resurrected the wrong guy. I can fix that for you. Just point me to the nearest ocean, and I'll go back the way I came, and you can resurrect a real hero."

"No, Dylan," the bear said forcefully. "It has to be you. The boy whose body rremained in the same condition at the bottom of the ocean for a thousand years."

My head is reeling. Something isn't right.

"What am I supposed to do, anyway? Why am I here?"

"Dylan," the bear said, almost surprised I had to ask. "You have to bring back the human race."