A second chance is something that is impossible in life. Life is a string of choices branching across the path each soul treads along the never ending universe. In the universe all beings abide by the flowing causality of time. Once thou breaks past the wall of ignorance, Thou shalt never return.
It's those who watch over and govern the vast cosmos that take responsibility for the consequence of action. To do or not to do, that is divinity's long search for being. Regardless, the majority had decided at the beginning of time that under certain circumstances actions would always be taken for the sake of all existence. One such event–is impeding on the birth cycle for a divine being.
Amongst the endless pantheon of gods, those with domains eternally expanding, there was a paired divine soul. An impulsive Trickster and a hesitant empathetic type divinity were a dime a dozen, however those who are attached are extraordinarily uncommon. Imagine conjoined twins; if two personalities had power over a combined realm. Although without a correct frame of judgment the best way to describe the usefulness of this occurrence–well it's a split rule considering that they are an existence based on change.
On one side of the coin they are an openly disruptive force, while on the other they seek to understand and watch. It's the cruel reason the level of anguish targets of the trickster half lacked oompah until the final act. Their play; a microcosm of pushes and pulls where the former ultimately wins out. For good reason as the desire to act does make up the core beliefs of existence.
It was this late focus on one soul that amused the watching half. Lessons in the divine realm are learned hard. This one would stick with it for the rest of its existence.
The sadistic half was failing to get the same results it always did, yet this only fueled layered trickery. It took longer to get past the tripping human children phase than a mortal existence might think. Getting reeled back meant that it always had to watch what unfolded. There was a surprising amount of genuine life altering despair that can occur just from an early scrap, injury, or bruise to the knee.
The last time it scraped a knee, the divine being got plunged into following the single life of a rather stubborn human. Little did it know that it also lit a flame that would slowly build in the mortals life to come.
***
[Mortal realm]
A small eastern North American city, Unknown location.
("The beeps are so familiar") His mind wonders.
Black Friday may have waned in his location over the years, but it was a guarantee that each year the day would be horrendously busy for retail stores. Stores pack to the gills with overly eager customers. As a cashier the scanning and beeping never ended. Even when his finger stopped pulling the trigger his ears seemed to hear the phantom ring of sales. Were these the sounds he heard? the comforting sounds of transactions by the minute.
Even though a day like that for a basic sales associate was hell, it was packed with constant work.
"Na na na na, credit card..nahh nahh rewards program" he whimsically mocked himself. The dead store a stark contrast to how it was earlier, with not a soul to hear his final rebellious Acts.
Then he remembered just before closing his area. His supervisor had said something about leaving him something in the backroom. Making his way there something momentarily pleasantly greeted his eyes.
A small yellow and white personal sized cake sat with red letters that read "Happy Birthday…@#$_&" on it. Ok maybe that naming was wrong. It was just a birthday wish with no name attached.
Today, the day after Thanksgiving, was this person's birthday.
"Was it anyone else's birthday?" He questioned quietly in the backroom before throwing that away. It was just him and the bosses left in the store and they distinctly celebrated their birthday in parties.
"well.. this is great" just before the smile could form he saw pineapple on the label. Instantly he took a step back with a tilt and frowned, gasping dramatically like a vampire who was just gifted garlic. The man had a near deathly allergy to the fruit.
("Alright that's enough with the theatrics") He inwardly resigns himself to his aging body. Standing back straight up, he kept his gaze on the cake he could not eat.
The energy in his eyes faded back to what they were a moment ago and before letting out a sigh he glanced around to make sure no one was around for it. After a rather long moment he had decided to take it with him and throw it away at home to avoid hurting the woman's feelings. Despite his misgiving the gesture had some meaning to it. Even if it looked like a sick joke.
After that he left the building tired, fine, albeit awkwardly carrying a cake that could set him off like a bomb. Not literally of course, still deathly dangerous even if they got a smudges worth on the plastic casing.
Making his way to the car the cold air bites at any exposed skin. The parking lot now suddenly dead as well, cold and lonely. Shockingly the old beast turns on, leading him to want to leave right away. With the toxic cake in the back seat he exits the parking lot.
Back at the store his bosses were having an interesting conversation.
"Mindy you close all the registers on the specialty aisles?" A serious toned man spoke
"Yep, all that's left is the final bits and the alarm" responded the preppy sounding woman.
"And you got the birthday cake right? It wasn't that one you left in the back right?" His tone was a tad bit on edge.
"Yeah of course I did, everyone gets a treat on their birthday here…we're a famil- huuh" she pretends to hurl "not finishing that sentence, but why what's wrong with that one?"
"It's a pineapple upside cake…a cheap one.. but still the dude is allergic to it. That's gotta be a horrible joke if you did that" he looked genuinely bothered by it. "And you didn't even put his name on it"
The girl looked absolutely flabbergasted. Settling with laughing it off instead of taking it seriously.
"Oh you got me.." she looks at him ready for his "I'm kidding" face. But after realizing he was serious she gasped.
"Ok ok, i can imagine getting the pineapple cake by accident, but i swear his name or some name was written on it."
"Well when I saw it last it just said happy birthday..and no name."
They could go back and forth for a while but it was a he said she said situation and only the receiver had the proof.
"I feel awful," she finally pouts.
***
The drive home was predictably cold. Looking in the rear view mirror he saw the cake and it reminded him of the day he got the allergy diagnosis. A rare allergy at that and his mother in the end just told him it was alright.
"You just got unlucky" was one of her phrases. "You aren't missing out anyway, pineapples are gross" she would finish.
As it started to snow he gripped the steering wheel. The air whipped up a mini storm lowering visibility. It wasn't as if he was a reckless driver, so taking his time in spite of the cold only delayed his much needed hot shower. For now he took his eyes off the cake.
Of course that was all fine and dandy until his dulled exhausted reflexes nearly caused an accident. Not his fault, however that didn't change the fact that there was a toxic mess in the back of his car now. Eventually he just started driving again after almost getting hit by a red light runner in the middle of a blizzard.
His reaction was so subdued for all things considered. With bags that won't even allow his eyes to sharpen enough in anger.
"I just got unlucky.." the words pass his lips as he finishes the brief drive home.
***
It took him a full hour after work to clean the back of his car. Gloves and a face mask for safety. After which it all went into the garbage bin. He moved his aged body like it had the embers of his former prime. Because the little bit of joy he had was just passed those doors. His pride and joy–and the love of his life.
"Honey I'm home!" He calls out to his empty condo. Left to him by his late father and then mother.
Not a single sound in response. He enters as he's done thousands of times before. Dropping his keys into the bowl, well they fell off, but he didn't bother picking them up.
Hanging his coat up, turning the heat that worked without a hitch, finally he stood at The door to which he was magnetically drawn. Opening the door led to his pride and joy, this giant collection of comics and media, along with merch and posters lining the walls. A warm RGB lighting around his reading/watching chair that faced a medium sized monitor.
The theme of all the merch mainly centered around dragon ball and shonen manga and anime. A corner dedicated to his American comic section where you can see that he absolutely loves super heroes too. In the past ten years give or take he had slowly stopped branching out when it came to anime, but one series always remains core to his heart.
Aside from narrative decisions in later parts he believes the story was heavily respectful of those who work hard. Lucky isn't something that drives everything forward; which opposes his own way of coping so beautifully. Goku's achievements and failings aren't down to luck.
Behind the chair, if he turned it around, there was a full manga set displayed for the dragon ball manga up to super and excluding a few spin offs he just couldn't get his hands on sadly. And he did sit and turn the chair around.
"Ahh today maybe after dinner and a much needed shower i will start the release order binge hehe" he giggles mischievously before leaving the room to eat. Aside from needing a shower he was deeply hungry. His inner child came out and some energy filled his bones.
Tonight's dinner was–ramen–no he turned on the rice cooker that might have been one of his best life choices in the past ten years.
"Guess ramen it is.." he laughs defeatedly after realizing today was usually grocery day. Of course they'd schedule him off his normal hours to cover such a prestigious holiday. "One.."
After quickly making his one basic chicken flavored ramen cup and carefully drinking water he got to take a shower. Except the water was cold so he had to make it fast. Despite freezing his butt off, the man looked at his wet rat-like form. An aged man who looked like he was in his fifties was actually somewhere in his early thirties gazed back. With a slight huff he accepted this bit of..
"Bad luck.." he quietly whispers.
Later he at least was able to begin reading his volume of dragon ball. Where a boy with a tail on a mountain meets a girl with abnormally coloured hair. Sitting in his chair savoring the oddness of the first story arc. Really wishing like a kid that he could mobilize energy, shoot beams, fly, and fight in tournaments.
"Dragon ball was always..mmm the easiest power system.." he mutters while slowly passing out on the comfy chair.
Sleep was one aspect of his life that was far and above removed from luck. He never fails to sleep when his body requires it. It can never be too hot or cold. This was his reprieve.
***
As the man fell asleep on his chair, his mind drifted off to dreamland. Pulled into a very familiar landscape.
A vast ocean horizon. Where the water as he stood seemed shallow as always. It would reflect the milky way galaxy, instead tonight the wall of flames that paint the horizon have gotten to surrounding him. The distance was vast, however the charge was noticeable. Now that he could see past the flames, it looked as though a rain storm raged behind them. All this brought him a surprising amount of comfort.
Though the choice to sleep on a chair was one he would regret. His body aches despite the refreshed mind. Getting up he puts the volume back and gets ready to eat breakfast. Plenty of cereal awaited him to start the early morning routine. This time he had the food too.
As a closer at his workplace he had a dozen or so hours before the next shift he needed to work.
While eating his cereal, after having mapped out the day he scrolled on his phone. No notifications nor did he have any friends. He or his mom would say that his lack of friendship was down to his bad luck. Although it's untrue, it is true that early bouts of horrible luck in life caused him to miss many chances to befriend people.
While scrolling he notices a picture of a beach and it brings him back to his days as a kid. The Story was ironically about a grill fire, but still the memories came bubbling. Then he thought about the dream he had again last night.
"The flames had gotten closer. Behind them it was raining too. How did I get blessed with such a cool dream? I wish I could draw" he says in between careful bites of soggy blueberry crunch.
Most people's earliest memories are of people, friends, and family. But for him it's this dream that started with flames stoked at the end of the horizon of a beach. He told this to people early on, but it was such a benign story that no one ever cared or believed in him. One of the many reasons he learned to stop sharing with people as a kid.
A memory flashed back to when he was a kid once again. A moment where he declared that since he had the unique dream; he was a chosen one like the stories he read and watched. A cringy ironic story that he can't forget.
Soon his meal would come to an end and it would be time for him to go grocery shopping. Where he kept to himself, the only eye contact or greetings coming from robotic retail habits. Buying a minimal list of foods, nothing that was special or healthy for that matter. Rice was the most sustaining food he picked up aside from cheap quickly protein sources.
The man felt as though the world outside his room were grey. Creating bonds with people were chances that he no longer wanted to take, so he ignored their eyes. The landscape was dull and the cold only made any sign of life hard to find with a glance.
When he got all that was left before work in a few hours was to put away the food and sort out his finances. The latter just required him to confirm bills were paid. That night the biggest worry should hopefully be taken care of. The check from his bonus would see to that.
Of course the days around his birthday he would be deeply thinking about his life. This along with the groceries and the previous exhausting day left him resting his head on the counter. Slowly he drifts only to raise his head once again.
"Don't fall asleep out of bed.." he whispers while lumbering over there.
Phone and clock set to go off multiple times to be absolutely sure he doesn't oversleep. Finally his body meets the bed for another chance at salvation. In his dream the uncannily inviting flames encroached.
By the time his ears caught the blare of an obnoxious alarm; ("that's not the beeping sound") he thinks while returning to the waking world, begrudgingly in silence. With a long tired exhale he pressed the stop button. Immediately after he was slowly rising up out of his comfy king sized bed.
Even his room was filled with memorabilia for dragon ball. You could begin to describe the amount of stickers, signed art, posters, and more carefully against several of his walls. A desk and bookshelves were on the last with actual professional literature, important documents placed on the side.
While stepping out of his room he noticed a figure on the ground. Kneeling down immediately he picked it up.
"Wow there Yamcha. A little too far out of your depth again I see. Haha" he remarks while picking up the figure. Finding the ability to laugh in him as he places it where it belongs.
"Welp.." he stops in the hallway before the entrance looking back one more time. "Salvation will be here when I get back", he says but his eyes look dead.
***
[Divine realm]
Trick, as we will refer to the god responsible for the man in the mortal realms suffering, had been pleased. His intentions predictably yanked in time which worked out as his last big attempt to harm the man could have outright killed him.
But no, the divine essence reaching through the realms had one more long life long plan up his sleeve. He just had to push the last domino he set up and..
***
[Mortal realm]
Beeping had filled the respectfully silent room. Each one called to the man sleeping in the bed. Eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids.
He was dreaming a dream he had seen all his life changing before his eyes. The flames closed in feeling as though they were in reach. Just a dozen or so steps. Walking towards them–or away as a normal reaction was pointless. Ages ago he found that when he moved nothing moved with him. If he did now it would be like a fiery spotlight following him. Aside from the dreams itself, something is different.
An aching feeling followed the beeps he just couldn't ignore anymore. ("Ok this is more than your average everyday body aches. It's everything") He thinks, lacking the energy to speak just yet.
Perhaps it was a haze that began cleaning as the nerves built in his unmoving body. With his gaze fixated at the wall a tv agonizing just out of sight. It is when he can't move his head to meet barely audible humans from the tv attached to the wall.
The beeps continue.
"Mmm wwww" he tries to speak only to be locked into his thoughts once again. ("Where am I..and I can't move?")
He barely is able to stay calm and the beeps only increase. Remembering that he has been on his way home after work. That a bonus check was successfully received, securing him more time at home as long as he cashed it by that night.
Eventually as nurses piled into the room and filled his view did he get the reveal of what had happened. Before all that the sight of the nurses freaked him out, thinking something horrific had happened. His fears were confirmed.
After ages of trying to calm the hysterical man he was sedated for his own good. The injuries on his body are only now finally getting around to healing properly. Over the long sedation he began to accept the worst–at least what the bare minimum would be for things to work out. In the end it was the dreams of encroaching flames that called him in and out of dreamland.
***
The accident had left him immobile. This existence could be considered a curse. Being essentially forced by his own body to accept his uselessness. He could barely speak and so to keep his hope from running out he thought about his favorite series and the moments that always gave him goosebumps. Naturally his mind would wonder how this all could happen.
Starting from the dream that pinned the earliest memory of his life. It was always there in his worst moments. The reset he would get from his inevitable slumber and staring out at the horizon played an important role in his ability to push past the hardest moments. That is until he solidly found some sort of source of joy. He always found something.
The fictional stories he had read were so set in stone. Like texts on a hieroglyph they never went away or deceived you without reason. The relationship a lover of fiction gains is what they pay for. In these stories that were so important to him, everything led to the next page. Where pain and suffering were just origin stories.
When he really focused his thoughts it was his knee injury that led to the first time he had the dream in the first place. A curious landscape and a weightless body awaited him.
The incident that ended up putting him in the hospital also introduced him to the joy of reading. The little boy he saved from getting run over visited him in the hospital to apologize. He pestered him about some favorite book of his and the rest was like history. Never meeting that child again; It wasn't the book he shared but the idea that stuck with him.
It was actually the time that he spent in the hospital as a child that shifted his course from a sports oriented path to a loner bookworm. The injury cost him a shot in a little league with limited spots. Between his oddly calming dream and new found hobby life went a different way.
His father was often absent from home. A lucky gambler as his mother touted until he wasn't. The home he won prior to their marriage was put up for collateral on a really high interest rate. They both believed in some high delusion of luck and it seemed to pay off until the bills racked up.
For hours on that first day waking up all he had were his thoughts. No kind nurses to keep him company and especially not a soul visiting him. Today, funny enough, should have been his day off. He already missed the wellness check and by his side was a card totally unseen. By his measure he was all alone.
***
The Flames that once inspired warmth from a distance now lay a step ahead. In all directions; the warmth surrounded him, but he no longer felt pulled away from reality. For once on this dream on the beach as he steps on the shallow water he is beginning to feel the truth.
***
He still laid stagnant on the uncomfortable hospital bed strung up and molded like a statue. So he wouldn't move and hurt himself in the process. Eyes closing and opening to excise what little energy he had left.
Learning that his check never got cashed and he was long overdue on his bill, and realizing the bill he was currently racking up. The man was filled with dread as he danced the line of despair for the very first time. Wetness welled up in his eyes as he thought of the endless regrets.
His mother's words echoed in his heart.
"Don't take unnecessary risks, let others go first"
Or
"make sure you keep your bets to yourself"
Or
"Just you wait, really if you do and your lucky things will work out. Just stay away from danger all together"
But it was her consistent dismissive attitude around misfortune or circumventable missteps that made the idea of trying for things beyond the bare minimum a joke.
Just when his mind felt like it would shatter out of distress the room began to engulf in flames. Like the flames of his dreams had closed in on him in reality. Instead of freaking out his heart raced and he blinked rapidly until he was wrapped in the fire as well.
But just as he suspected all this time. They felt so comfortable to be surrounded by. They passed through his very soul and before he understood what was happening he blinked and had been on the beach.
"Am I dreaming?" He is unable to resist saying out loud causing an immediate physical reaction. He touched his mouth with his hand and then looked down to see his, although naked, fully healed body. "No cast..but"
He listens in on the beating of the raindrops onto the water. It's really all he can hear besides himself. His dream ocean lacked waves after all.
The flames urged his soul to seek the truth, the rain falling all around him steadied his mind. Finally it was the clear horizon on its last night.
Looking out at the infinite expanse his memories cascaded across it like clips from a movie. Individual moments; mostly bad ones that showed residuals of tampering at hand. In these near everlasting moments the details of the truth came together.
"Still, I can't help..it. I never pushed..i never..worked hard for anything. I wanted to be the best at something.."
His words eeked out of his mouth. Tears fell down his face as the realization hit him. It was over and he would be leaving this plane of existence to whatever place isn't his home. Yet he clung to the torment and lost time.
As his memories flew by across the sky like a meteor shower. Revealing the tampering force beyond the veil of realities. The emotions had started to drain from his mind. Raising his hand as if to reach the truth he had not even noticed his lower half was consumed by the flames.
"If I have to go…I'll take you with me"
He says while grasping at the air. The flames enveloping his fading form. Not a twinge of pain as the fire flowers towards the horizon to pierce the veil.
Bright orange flashes over his eyes and then the world becomes black.
***
[Divine realm]
The empathic soul had watched as his other half got engulfed in flames. Rather they both did. Seeing as they were one being truthfully. While its counterpart was a writhing glowing light, nothing changed for it. It didn't feel pain, only the inability to resist.
It could not do anything as the fire turned into a hand. It grasped the glowing orb and pulverized it with immense heat. It was an instant but the remaining half of the soul did not get targeted to its surprise. A infant being such as itself couldn't make heads or tails about this situation. It had never been active in interfering with other beings. It just floated there until the flames started to grow.
The flames weren't bright orange or red, they didn't burn other colors, they burned all of the light spectrum. It was proof of its divine origin. Within this escalating event was the soul and memories of @#$_&.
In the growing maelstrom not only fire was being created but water, gravel, and sand, all types of material. The very building blocks of the universe seemed to spew in all directions in the space that never seemed to fill. As if another big bang were occurring at a reality warping level. All the energies of countless universes with nowhere to be and forever to go. Eventually the system would kick in–but humans do not have one, nor do prematurely birthed beings.
Now as the premature infant being raged into existence,a mortal soul within, the empathetic soul felt its own system active. The laws of the divinity were set in stone. Divinity close to a law breaking individual must take responsibility. In this case the unborn divinity now entering a premature state would unravel into the adjacent domains of other beings. One for one, the laws decide that one domain is responsible and that means even at the cost of a second unrelated existence.
To the emphatic soul it's automatic. Like it was the strongest putty placed in a blender. It's supposed to stop and solidify. Force the divinity to complete its form at a faster, safer rate. It whirled around the existence of another being, but as it connected with it, the attachment to the mortal being was not pleasant. Too many concepts flooded the inhuman being.
The tug of another made it remember the years it spent observing not only its other half, but the human too. Now it all made sense. Its own system gave it all the information it needed to know. This being would grow into the human's divine being, simple as that, however the remaining divinity felt the pulse of purple in its core.
One more time. I agree and we can make it a fair time. This time it agrees fully. If a divine soul could smile this one would be for its only time ever.
In the next moment the divinity expanded itself. Using the incomplete yet rich blueprint at the forefront of the mortal-divinity. Using all its resources and facilities to bring a whole fictional reality into existence in a certain way. Yet something peculiar about the blueprint made completing this process and accomplishing its goal properly impossible. Halting the personal tampering it focused on completing the new reality only scratching the surface of what it needed to do to the mortal-divinity. With the only thing it was able to do being to place the soul in the reality away from its divinity. It would run the mortal coil once more, although its true body grows elsewhere death to a soul would still mean an end.
***
New Multiverse]
Life is a branching path that never returns to its root. Cough at the wrong angle and branches later you may indeed cause a hurricane in the future. Every action has a reaction and that makes this reality different from a book. The words here are not set in stone.
When the soul came to, it was like he awoke from a nap in the hospital bed with his eyes closed. Rather he wasn't strong enough as he comes to find for the majority of his body at the moment. He felt calm only because the sensation was like being underwater which soothed him. Something was attached to his face as he breathed through it. As if the struggle to understand was exhausting he was being pulled back into slumber again.
@#$_& would find out much later that he had become his favorite character now in his favorite series. Son Goku from Dragon ball.
_-_-_-_-_-_-
(A/N): Hey guess I'll put these here now. With this first volume coming to an end I needed to properly flesh out of that first chapter. Nothing new was added per say aside from definitive characterization and lore. This is our main character here so forgive me for what sin I'm pretty much going to commit by putting him on the back burner for a while. I see all the collections and stones. Thank you for any tiny bit of support.