There was silence.
Not the still, lifeless silence of an empty room, nor the deafening quiet of a void—but something softer. A silence that breathed. That whispered through leaves and swayed through distant branches. That hummed with the subtle, slow rhythm of the earth.
A's eyes fluttered open.
Sunlight streamed through the canopy of trees above, painting everything in soft gold and pale green. The sky peeked through gaps in the leaves, patches of blue cradled in the arms of a thousand boughs.
Birds chirped overhead, and the gentle rustle of foliage marked the passage of the wind.
He lay on his back, on a bed of moss and grass, damp and cool beneath his body. His breath caught in his throat as he blinked rapidly.
Where am I?
His vision slowly focused. The forest canopy loomed overhead, and the scent of fresh earth and wildflowers filled his nostrils. He sat up abruptly, the motion awkward and clumsy, his body unbalanced in a way he couldn't quite understand.
Then he paused.
He looked down at himself—at the small, thin arms attached to his body. His heart began to race. His skin—smooth and hairless—was tinted a pale, ethereal green. His hands trembled as he turned them over. His fingers looked refined, not calloused like they once were. Young. Too young.
He scrambled to his feet, but nearly fell over. His legs were shorter than they should've been—his center of gravity unfamiliar.
"What…?" His voice cracked slightly. Lighter. Higher-pitched. Softer.
Not his voice.
His heart thumped in his chest.
He stumbled toward the nearest tree, bracing himself with one hand against its rough bark. His breaths came shallow and fast. He raised trembling fingers to his face.
It felt… smaller. Smoother. Not a trace of stubble or scar. His jawline was narrow. His cheekbones are high and pronounced.
He ran his hands over his scalp and found—long strands of hair. Silky and fine, cascading down his shoulders. White. Snow-white.
A sudden weight tugged on his ears.
He touched them carefully and found earrings. Small, smooth orbs of metal—earrings. If he remembered correctly, he never wore earrings.
The sensation was strange and cold against his fingertips. His fingers brushed his ears—and stopped.
Pointed. Elongated. Not human.
His breath caught again.
He stumbled back from the tree and looked down at himself. A single white cloth was wrapped around his body, held up by nothing visible. It clung to him like a toga, trailing slightly at the edges.
Beneath it, his small chest rose and fell rapidly. His feet were bare, toes digging into the soft forest floor.
He looked like a child. No older than twelve.
But not a human child.
He staggered to the side and nearly fell, catching himself on another tree. His pulse thundered in his ears.
This isn't a dream…
He clenched his fists, trying to calm the rising storm inside him.
Okay. Focus. What's the last thing I remember?
Images flickered through his mind—fragmented and distorted. A flash of light. A moment of blinding pain. Something... sudden. Unnatural.
Then—nothing.
And now, this.
He took another deep breath and tried to steady himself. It wasn't easy.
"I died," he whispered.
The words felt absurd. Alien. But as they left his lips, the truth of them settled deep in his chest, like a stone sinking into a pond.
There was no other explanation.
His body—changed. His age—reset. His skin and hair—entirely different. The earrings, the cloth, the forest… None of it belonged to the world he had known.
"I've… been reincarnated," he said aloud, as if speaking it would make it more believable.
The forest responded with a gust of wind that rustled the trees.
A reincarnation. That had to be it. There were no clouds of fire, no angels playing harps, no judgment gates. Just… this. A forest. A new body.
A new life.
He looked down at his pale green arms again, before surveying his surroundings.
The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a labyrinth of towering trees and dappled sunlight.
He swallowed hard, his throat tight. 'Civilization'. There had to be 'something' beyond these woods—a village, a road, even a lone traveler's camp.
But which way? North? South? The sun hung high, its position unfamiliar. No compass. No landmarks. Only the whisper of leaves and his own ragged breath.
He chose a direction at random—east, perhaps, if the faint glow through the canopy meant anything—and began to walk.
…
Time blurred. The forest floor softened beneath his bare feet, moss and fallen leaves cushioning each step. Birds flitted overhead, their songs sharp and curious.
He walked for what felt like hours, yet his legs didn't ache. His breath stayed even. No sweat dampened his strange, silken cloth. No thirst clawed at his throat.
He paused, frowning. 'This isn't right'. In his past life, a hike like this would've left him gasping.
Now, his body felt… light. Effortless. As if the air itself buoyed him. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the steadiness in his limbs.
Has his stamina increased? Or was this new form simply 'built' differently?
A breeze stirred, carrying a sound that snapped him from his thoughts—a liquid murmur, faint but unmistakable. 'Water'.
He turned toward the noise, weaving through ferns and over gnarled roots until the trees thinned. Ahead, sunlight glinted off a narrow stream, its current swift and clear.
Relief washed over him. He knelt at the bank, cupping water in his hands—cold, crisp, alive. He drank greedily, the chill sharpening his senses.
But as he leaned closer, the surface of the stream stilled.
His reflection stared back.
Pale green skin, luminous as moonlight. Hair like spun snow, cascading in waves to his waist. Grey irises a swirling amber that seemed to glow from within.
High, delicate cheekbones. A face too elegant, too 'otherworldly', to belong to any human child.
A reeled back, nearly slipping on the wet stones. His hands flew to his face, trembling. The reflection mimicked him, those unnerving eyes blazing with panic.
"No," he whispered. The mark pulsed faintly under his fingertips, warm to the touch. "This isn't… real…right?"
The forest offered no answers. Only the stream's ceaseless murmur, and the Shocking revelation of who he resembled surfaced into his mind.
The face—albeit a bit young, the hair—although taller, the ears, the eyes and those earrings…
All those features resemble someone he saw in an animation, his favourite character— the one he looked up to…
All staring back at him in his reflection… he couldn't help reciting.
"My form is justice…"
"And my form is the world…"
"Worship me…
"Give praise unto me…
"All hail…
"Zamasu!"