PROLOGUE —
Cold.
Not the kind that nipped at the skin, or crept beneath clothes on a winter night—but the kind that existed everywhere at once. A cold so absolute it felt less like temperature and more like absence. Like the universe itself had decided I no longer deserved warmth.
I tried to breathe.
There was no air.
I tried to scream.
There was no sound.
Instead, there was light.
Endless, impossible light.
Stars stretched in every direction, countless and overwhelming, their brilliance forming vast spirals of color and fire. Nebulae burned like living storms, painting the void in purples and golds. Asteroid belts twisted through space like frozen rivers, each fragment tumbling slowly, majestically, close enough that I felt I could reach out and touch them.
I had never seen anything like this.
I knew—without knowing how—that I never would again, for there is nothing like the first view.
No place on Earth offered a view like this. No telescope, no satellite, no human invention could capture the scale of what surrounded me now.
Which meant only one thing.
I was no longer on Earth.
The realization didn't come with panic. There was no fear. Only a strange, distant calm, as if the part of me capable of screaming had already been stripped away.
So this is it, I thought, as my ship continued its crash course towards a nearby planet.
My New Life.
Flashback:-A few before Death
Pain.
Sudden, sharp, crushing pain tore through my chest, dragging me violently back into something small, suffocating, and familiar.
I gasped—and air burned into my lungs.
I was lying on my back.
The ceiling above me was stained yellow, cracked in places where moisture had long ago given up pretending to leave. A single flickering light buzzed overhead, its hum the only sound in the room.
My room.
My chest seized again, and I clawed at it instinctively, fingers slipping beneath my unwashed shirt. My arm was thinner than it should've been. Too thin. Weak. Bruised in places I didn't remember injuring.
Another cough wracked my body.
Warm liquid splattered against the futon beneath me.
Blood.
I stared at it in numb disbelief, as if seeing it for the first time might somehow change what it meant.
"So… this is how it ends," I whispered.
The pain had been there for months. A dull ache at first. Easy to ignore. Easy to pretend wasn't real. But it had grown sharper, heavier, until breathing itself felt like a chore.
I should have gone to the hospital.
I couldn't afford it.
Not after she took everything.
The anger burned hotter than the pain.
That bitch of an ex-wife.
Money. Savings. The house. Even my name felt like it had been dragged through the mud and trampled on. I had been left with debt I didn't remember borrowing, payments I never agreed to, and a child I wasn't even allowed to see.
A child I still loved.
"I didn't do anything wrong," I said hoarsely, though there was no one left to hear it.
I had tried. God, I had tried.
An orphan from the start, I'd worked my way through school on grit and stubbornness alone. I did what society told me to do. Got educated. Got a job. Got married. I had a kid. Bought a house.
I Played by the rules.
And still lost everything.
The company I worked for accused me of having an affair. Embezzling funds. Lies—every single one of them—but lies were easier to believe than truth. I was fired, blacklisted, and left scrambling for part-time work just to eat.
My ex-wife said our daughter was "adjusting" to her new husband.
That was why I wasn't allowed to visit.
Every month, child support drained what little money I scraped together. I knew where it was going—designer shoes, dinners out—but I paid anyway.
Because blood test or not…
"She's still my little girl," I murmured.
Another coughing fit took me, violent enough that my vision blurred.
At some point, without realizing it, I had started to rot.
My reflection looked older than I was. Hollow eyes. Sunken cheeks. A man already halfway into the grave.
"What did I do wrong?" I asked the empty room. "Where did I mess up?"
That was when the air changed.
A presence filled the room—wrong, heavy, unnatural.
Someone cleared their throat.
"Damn," a voice said casually. "This place is a dump."
I turned my head with immense effort.
A man stood beside my futon.
He wore a striped tailcoat, polished shoes planted on my filthy tatami floor, a traveling bag hanging loosely from one hand. A top hat rested against his chest as he surveyed the room with open disdain, scraping something unpleasant off his shoe.
"Who… who are you…?" I croaked.
He looked at me then—really looked.
"Ah. Still alive. Barely." He sighed. "This is awkward."
Before I could ask what that meant, he continued, as if explaining the weather.
"Long story short? Your life went to hell because of me."
I blinked.
He tapped his bow tie. "Mind reading."
Of course.
Apparently, the universe hadn't finished laughing yet.
He explained—poorly, unapologetically—that he was supposed to transmigrate someone else. A rude Chinese guy. Words were exchanged. Tempers flared.
A curse of misfortune was involved.
It missed.
And hit me.
"To avoid paperwork with the Council," he said lazily, "I'm here to collect your soul before the reapers arrive."
Fear finally pierced the haze.
"Do I—" I tried to ask.
"No." His eyes glowed red. "You don't have a choice."
Pressure slammed down on me, crushing, suffocating, absolute. For the first time, I understood—this wasn't a man.
This was a god.
"But," he continued, releasing the pressure as casually as he'd applied it, "I do feel… mildly bad."
He produced five pamphlets from his hat.
Worlds, I instinctively knew these were my options for a new life.
A noble's life.
Magic and swords.
Superpowers.
Space Exploration.
Pirates.
Any of the Above.
"Pick one," he said. "We don't have time" with pity he finished "Your body's failing."
They all looked incredible.
Too incredible.
"I can't pick"
"Can't you," I thought weakly, "combine them?"
He stared.
"A greedy one eh, I like it!" then smiled.
"Oh, I can," he said. "But it'll cost you."
Memories. Time. Pieces of yourself.
I didn't hesitate.
"Take them all, just leave me Abigail".
As the world faded, one name remained.
"Abigail, I'm gonna miss you baby girl, and remember daddy will always love you, till the end of time"I hoped, prayed to whoever was still listening, that she would hear my final words.
"Don't worry, I'll get them to her" ROB heard and chose to answer my small prayer.
'It seems the gods haven't forsaken me yet'.
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