Allen floated.
There was no ground beneath his feet nor sky above his head. There was no up or down, not even darkness in the conventional sense. It was simply… nothing. A vast silence that did not oppress or frighten. He just existed.
So… am I dead? he thought.
The idea didn't bring panic. In fact, it felt curiously natural. His last memory was still fresh in his mind: the roar of the engine, the metallic screech of brakes, the brutal impact. The truck appearing out of nowhere.
And his brother.
Allen remembered the exact moment his body reacted before his mind. Pushing him. Shoving him out of the way. Feeling the blow in his place.
I hope he survived… he murmured in his thoughts.
They had never really gotten along. They argued over absurd things, ignored each other for weeks, and rarely said anything that wasn't a complaint or a mean-spirited joke. But Allen had always thought that was normal for brothers. It didn't mean he didn't care. He never had.
If his brother was alive… then it had all been worth it.
The silence enveloped him as those thoughts slowly dissipated. He felt no pain. No cold or heat. No hunger, no tiredness. It was as if his body no longer existed… and yet, he was still himself.
So… this is dying.
He reflected on how strange it was. He had always imagined death as something terrifying, an abyss of no return or eternal suffering. But this felt different. Calm. Serene.
At peace.
It was a deep peace, as if all the worries, fears, and regrets had dissolved. There was no anxiety about tomorrow nor the weight of yesterday. Only the eternal present of that silent void.
I guess it's not so bad, he thought.
Yet, even in that absolute calm, something within him stirred. A desire that had never truly gone away.
Adventures.
Allen remembered his childhood. The afternoons in front of the television, his eyes shining with excitement as he watched impossible worlds, magical creatures, and improbable heroes. He especially remembered a show that had marked his childhood.
Adventure Time.
Finn, Jake, the Land of Ooo, strange princesses, monsters, magic, tragedy, and hope. A chaotic and beautiful world where every day was a new story.
I wish I could have lived something like that… he thought with some melancholy. A life full of adventures.
The thought had barely formed when something changed.
The void vibrated.
It wasn't a sound, nor an image. It was a sensation. As if space itself reacted to his desire.
Then, a voice spoke.
It didn't come from anywhere specific. It was neither masculine nor feminine, neither young nor old. It simply existed, resonating directly in his mind.
Do you truly desire a life full of adventures?
Allen was surprised, but not scared. If he was dead, he figured this kind of thing came with the package.
Yes, he replied without hesitation. Yes, I do.
The voice was silent for a moment, as if evaluating his answer.
Very well, it said finally. Then enjoy your next reincarnation.
Before Allen could ask anything more, the void broke.
An intense, overwhelming light flooded everything. It was neither warm nor cold, but it was so bright it forced him to squeeze his eyes shut. He felt as if his entire existence was being dragged, compressed, and thrown through something he couldn't comprehend.
Then…
Thump.
Allen gasped.
Air rushed into his lungs all at once, triggering a clumsy, rough cough. He opened his eyes with difficulty, and the first thing he felt was cold.
Solid cold.
Asphalt.
He was sprawled on a cracked street, the hard, icy ground beneath his body. A smell of dust, rust, and ash filled the air. He pushed himself up slightly, blinking as his eyes adjusted.
The city around him was in ruins.
Collapsed buildings, skeletons of concrete and metal rising like giant tombs. Broken windows, destroyed streets, twisted signs. Everything seemed abandoned for centuries, as if a war had passed through and no one had ever returned.
Where… am I…? he tried to say.
But the sound that came from his mouth was not a word.
It was a strange, raspy grunt.
Allen froze.
Confused, he looked down at his body… and his mind came to a complete stop.
Scales.
His skin was dark, covered in small, glistening scales. His arms were shorter and sturdier, ending in claws. When he moved, he noticed a strange weight on his back.
Wings.
No… it can't be… he thought.
Before he could process more, a sound caught his attention.
Sobbing.
Allen clumsily turned his head, following the source of the sound. A few meters away, amidst the wreckage of a destroyed car, he saw a little girl.
Long, dark hair. Pale skin. Worn-out clothes. She couldn't be more than seven years old.
She was crying.
Allen's eyes opened wide in disbelief.
Marceline… he thought.
There was no doubt. Even as a child, he recognized her. The daughter of the Vampire King. Before the vampires. Before Finn. Before everything.
Wait… his mind began to connect the dots. Does this mean that…?
A thousand years.
He had arrived a thousand years before the beginning of the story.
And he wasn't human.
He was a dragon.
Panic tried to seize him, but his new body didn't react as expected. It didn't tremble. It didn't sweat. He only felt an instinctive curiosity.
Marceline lifted her head upon hearing the noise.
Her eyes met Allen's.
The crying stopped immediately.
The girl stared at him intently, with a mix of surprise and caution. Allen tried to speak, to reassure her, to tell her he wasn't dangerous.
But all he managed was to let out a soft, almost clumsy little howl.
Marceline blinked.
Then, slowly, she approached.
Allen wanted to back away, but his legs moved with difficulty, as if he still didn't know how to use his new body. Marceline, on the other hand, seemed more curious than scared.
She crouched in front of him.
"What are you?" she asked in a trembling voice, but without running away.
Allen tilted his head. He tried to respond. Another little strange sound came from his throat.
Marceline watched him for a few more seconds… and then she smiled.
A soft laugh escaped her lips.
"You're weird," she said.
Carefully, she picked him up in her arms. Allen was surprised by how easy it was; his body was small, almost the size of a large cat.
For some reason, being held didn't bother him.
"I think I'll call you…" Marceline thought aloud. "Allen."
Allen's heart skipped a beat.
His name.
Perhaps not everything was lost.
As the girl hugged him, Allen looked at the gray sky over the ruined city above his head.