I woke up to chaos."He's not waking up!" I heard someone shout. "Somebody call 911!"What the hell? My chest burned... or didn't it? I couldn't tell. Everything about my body felt off, as though I wasn't quite in it anymore. It wasn't just pain—it was absence, emptiness. Detached."Where's his pulse?" a voice yelled above the panic.Pulse? What was happening? Am I—am I dead?
"It's impossible!" someone else said. "His body is literally moving, but there's no sign of blood flow or a heartbeat. This isn't something that belongs in the ER—it belongs in the morgue."My mind tried to wrestle with the impossible. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening to me. But before I could even grasp the situation, the lead surgeon gripped a scalpel, his hand trembling—but not with fear.With control. Or rather, lack of it.Right in front of me, he pointed the blade to his own throat, mumbling in a low, guttural chant: "бог смерти возродится… The god of death will be reborn…"
His eyes glazed over in a way that wasn't human.Then, he slit his throat. Blood poured everywhere, and yet... it moved. Defied gravity, pooling unnaturally toward the floor as vibrations, like an earthquake, shook the entire room. Cracks formed in the walls as a violet rift split the floor beneath me.A translucent light shone brighter than anything I had ever seen, and then it appeared—a blackened hand, coated in something jagged like obsidian, breaking through the darkness and gripping me like a predator dragging prey.Before I could scream, a figure emerged—eerily pristine, like a supermodel who walked out of some cursed runway. His lips curled into a wicked smile as his glowing eyes locked with mine.And then, he ripped me apart.No hesitation. He consumed me, piece by piece, drinking my blood, tearing through sinew and marrow, leaving me powerless to resist.What came next was even more horrifying.The man—no, the thing—licked the last trickle of blood from its fingers before speaking, almost casually. "Forgive me, young master. I had no choice but to interfere."I wanted to scream, to curse him, but all I could do was think, What the actual fuck is going on?
Wait," I thought. "He can hear me?""Of course I can," the creature answered seamlessly."Who are you?""Vadamir," the man replied with a bow. "A celestial of the highest rank, loyal to your bloodline. And before you ask, yes, you are very much dead… though it's more complicated than that."Dead? Was he serious?
"But—how? And WHY DID YOU EAT ME!?" "That was necessary, I assure you. The consumption allowed you to awaken your ascended form—the form of a Celestial Lord. You, my dear master, are an entity blessed by two divine realms, reborn each cycle to maintain balance… or chaos, depending on your whim."Reborn? Celestial Lord? None of this made sense."Listen," he continued, "you're in the Astral Plane. A liminal space between realms. See that orb?"
He gestured casually to a glowing glass sphere on an intricate blue table."That's... my soul?" I whispered."Exactly. And the crimson resin beneath? Energy you'll need until you turn 8. Consume it sparingly."I wanted answers. He offered only riddles."And now," Vadamir said, with a near-flippant wave, "you'll choose two abilities before your rebirth. It's tradition.""Abilities? Uh, pyrokinesis and shadow-traveling.""Excellent picks!" he said gleefully. "Now, farewell, young master. Your new life awaits. Try not to waste it this time."And before I could scream another obscenity at him, darkness swallowed me whole."Fuck, Vadamir! I'm definitely going to make you pay for this!"