The boundless expanse of space and time stretched without limit, an ever-expanding sea where infinite realities were endlessly born and erased with the passing of time.
It was a sight beyond imagination or dreams.
To a mortal mind, it would resemble a vast canvas where everything happened at once, seamlessly and without pause.
Yet above this grand canvas of infinite realities, there was nothing.
Not even darkness.
A void so absolute that existence itself could not take root within it.
Then something appeared.
A golden sphere, or what looked like a ball formed entirely from radiant golden energy, manifested within the void.
It was not seen arriving.
It was not created in any visible way.
It appeared suddenly, in an unassuming moment, as if summoned by some unknown force or entity.
It floated in the emptiness, directionless, purposeless, and seemingly without awareness.
There was no sign that it possessed consciousness.
Then the space around its smooth surface began to distort.
The void stretched and narrowed around it, reshaping as though guided by an unseen hand.
Moments passed.
The golden sphere began to change.
Its shape slowly shifted, lengthening and refining, until it formed the outline of a person.
Not a physical being of flesh and bone, but a figure sculpted from pure golden energy.
A man.
Or rather, something like the soul of a man.
The golden soul stood in the empty void like a statue.
Then, suddenly, its limbs moved.
Its hand rose and touched its face.
Its legs took uncertain steps.
Its hips twisted as if testing motion for the first time.
Yet he could feel nothing.
Not his face.
Not his legs.
Not the surface beneath him.
He felt no touch, no smell, no sight, no sound.
It was not that his senses were dulled.
It was as if he had never possessed them at all.
"What is this?" the soul asked.
No lips moved.
No sound was made.
Yet he felt himself speaking, as though words were leaving him, even though he could not hear them.
He did not even know what language he was using.
A voice echoed, deep, mysterious, and overwhelmingly powerful.
Though the soul had no ears, he somehow heard it clearly.
"I am not panicking. I was only asking a question... to whoever is listening. Or whatever you are, since you seem to have heard me," the soul replied calmly.
The voice fell silent for a moment, as if deep in thought.
"I have many questions," the soul said.
The voice replied, its tone firm and commanding.
"First, tell me who you are, who I am, what I am, and why I cannot remember anything," the soul asked calmly.
The voice did something incomprehensible to the soul.
In the very next instant, an overwhelming flood of memories was forced into his nonexistent mind.
"I see... I died."
He was, without question, a very dead man.
There had been nothing particularly special about his life before that.
The soul took a few moments to recall its life before death.
He lost his parents on Earth during the first unannounced waves of bombs falling from the sky at the beginning of the Third World War, when he was still in his late teens.
By some stroke of luck, he survived the initial attacks and several more before joining a refugee camp.
Later, he was forced to enlist in the war and became a soldier himself.
The war dragged on for a little over three years before another peace treaty was signed by the higher authorities of the nations involved.
It was bitterly ironic.
The very people whose ambitions and egos had ignited the war, the ones responsible for countless deaths on both sides, were also the ones who signed the treaty that ended it.
Megalomaniacal bastards.
Their decisions sent ordinary people to die while they remained safe in comfortable homes, eating warm meals, far removed from the horrors they had created.
Anyway, he survived the war.
Afterward, he built a successful business and earned several million dollars.
From there, his life settled into something normal, quiet, stable.
Until he was captured by a serial killer known as The Fortune Reaper.
The nickname came from the killer's method.
He specifically targeted wealthy orphans, people who had the means to enjoy life for themselves, even if they had earned everything honestly.
A young self-made millionaire in his mid-twenties, he was the perfect target.
The killer abducted him using a tranquilizer and brought him to an unknown location.
There, he stripped him naked before performing countless unspeakable acts on his body, things the soul would rather forget.
After that bastard of a killer had his fill of pleasure, the poor soul was mutilated piece by piece, starting with the limbs.
The end came when his head was severed from his torso.
Afterward, the killer used the dismembered remains to decorate his house like grotesque ornaments, scattering the body parts throughout the rooms like twisted lamps.
That was how his life ended.
See? There's nothing noteworthy to say about his life.
So this is me... I'm a soul, huh?
That explains why I cannot see, hear, or feel anything, since I do not have a physical body.
The soul let out a soundless sigh, slowly accepting the truth.
"So what now? Are you some kind of god of death? Are you here to take me to the afterlife?" the soul asked.
The voice answered.
"Whatever you are, it is obvious you are some sort of all-powerful entity. Can you at least give me vision so I can see who I am talking to?" the soul requested.
The voice acted again.
Suddenly, sight returned.
His eyes felt as though they had opened, even though that should have been impossible.
The first thing the soul did was look down at itself.
He had the shape of a human, yet his entire form was made of radiant golden light, as if his body were forged from it.
"Surreal," he muttered.
Then he raised his head to look at the being before him.
What he saw defied comprehension.
The entity's body looked like the night sky itself.
Completely black, yet filled with distant stars, galaxies, planets, and entire universes embedded within its vast form.
It was so enormous that the soul felt smaller than an ant beside a spaceship.
The being sat upright, though there was no visible throne beneath it.
It resembled a certain absurdly overpowered alien from a certain cartoon series where the main character used a watch to transform into different alien forms.
Like that certain alien, but infinitely greater.
What a shame.
I died before they released the new series, the one they had promised would provide a proper continuation, bringing back the charm of the originals, not like that terrible reboot.
The soul thought.
He focused again on the entity.
Its face could not be clearly seen.
The only distinct features were two massive white eye sockets, glowing like swirling universes.
The rest of its head seemed fused with the endless expanse of void itself.
The entity tilted its head slightly, as if weighing some unfathomable thought.
The entity intoned, its voice deep and resonant, echoing through the endless void.
The entity's voice rolled through the void like a tidal wave, shivering the boundaries of existence with its sheer weight.
Whoa, talk about a self-introduction…
The soul thought quietly.
The entity's gaze lingered on the soul for long, measured seconds.
Why does he keep staring at me?
The soul wondered, unease prickling at its core.
"I watch you because you are different," the entity said.
"Different how?"
"Oh… I do not know what to do with that," the soul said quietly. "You still have not told me your name."
A low, almost distant amusement echoed through the void.
The entity replied, its tone dripping with sneer.
"Right… the Watcher." The soul hesitated. "Can you tell me why I am here? Was I not supposed to have… You know… passed on?"
The Watcher continued.
"I will take it," the soul said at once.
There was mild curiosity now.
"There is nothing to hesitate over," the soul replied. "I am already dead. You are offering me the chance to live again. Of course, I accept. Whatever consequences follow, I will face them when they come."
The words were not brave, nor reckless. They were simply true.
The Watcher said.
"No consequences other than the ones I make myself? That just makes things easier," the soul replied casually.
"As for my old world and the memories of my past life, I don't really care about them. I also don't mind what kind of world you send me to, as long as it isn't one where genocidal AI robots have wiped out humanity or a world overrun by zombies."
The soul continued speaking, shaking its head.
"Especially the fast ones, like in that movie 28 Days Later. Anything like that is basically the same as telling me to struggle nonstop just to stay alive, rather than actually live a good second life."
It paused for a moment, then added with a sly chuckle, "Although… I would not complain if it were a world where men went extinct because of some disease, leaving only women, and I am the only man who can save humanity... Just a suggestion, in case you are still deciding."
<...I will reincarnate you in a reality where you can indulge in your moral and immoral desires. And because I have taken a liking to you, young one, I will grant you five wishes to carry into your new life>
The Watcher said calmly, as if he had already read the soul's thoughts.
"May I ask why you are reincarnating me? Or do you do this for every soul you summon?" the soul asked, genuine curiosity surfacing even though it did not truly care about the reason.
Though the soul could not see his face, it heard the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.
He is bored, huh? Even a being with that much power can get bored.
The soul could not help but sigh.
If I were him, I would probably watch different realities like a fantasy series.
Still, this works out for me.
A second life in a world where I can chase my desires, plus five wishes.
Sign me up.
...
[A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider adding my novel to your library and supporting it with some Power Stones. No pressure though—arigato!]