"Ahhh… mmmnnn… oooohhh… haah… haah…"
The moan spilled out from the manga's speech bubble—loud, desperate, and utterly shameless.
Sena's eyes flicked over the page, the ridiculous sound somehow echoing in his head like it was real.
Why do these characters have to be so extra? he thought, smirking. It's just ink on paper, but it sounds like someone's having a full concert.
He chuckled softly and turned the page.
Then—without warning—a sudden, sharp pain exploded in his chest.
He gasped, clutching his ribs as darkness crept into the edges of his vision.
And just like that—everything went black.
Suddenly, Sena found himself floating in nothingness. Pure white stretched endlessly in every direction—no floor, no walls, no ceiling. Just… white.
He blinked, feeling weirdly weightless.
"Did I… really die?" Sena muttered to the emptiness, arms spread like he was testing if he could fly.
He snorted. "What the heck? That was fast. Like one of those side characters in a trending manga who just disappears after a few chapters. No dramatic speeches, no heroic last stand. Just poof—done."
He looked around again. "Okay, universe. If this is how you handle deaths, at least give me some popcorn or a cool afterlife lounge."
Then, an old, calm voice echoed through the emptiness.
"You act like that, like it doesn't bother you… but you're literally sad inside, aren't you?" it said softly, as if reading right through him.
There was a pause, heavy with unspoken truths.
"You're not really like this anymore. You've changed, but that's not who you were before," the voice continued gently. "In the past, you were different—a genius, a prodigy. Not just with clever words or quick thinking, but in fighting as well. You had strength, skill, and a purpose. You weren't someone who just stood by or gave up."
Sena stood silently, head bowed, eyes fixed on the endless white below, muttering under his breath.
"I don't even know what happened… how I ended up like this… lost, weak, and so far from who I was."
The voice didn't answer right away, leaving Sena alone with his swirling thoughts, memories that felt distant and blurry—as if they belonged to someone else.
The voice spoke again, quieter now—weighted with something personal.
"I know what it feels like… losing someone important," the old man said. "Sena."
That name, spoken with such gravity, seemed to echo in the whiteness like it mattered more than ever before.
"But it's been seven years—"
"I know," Sena interrupted, his voice cracking.
"They were my family…" he whispered, pain tightening in his chest. "They were there when I needed help… always. No matter how bad things got. But when they needed me—"
He clenched his fists, trembling.
"I wasn't there."
The words hung in the silence like a confession, heavy and raw. He couldn't look up. He didn't want to see judgment—or worse, forgiveness.
"I don't even know if I deserved them," he muttered. "Or if I deserve anything now."
"I don't know how I can fix any of it," Sena said, his voice small. "I don't even know how to help anyone anymore."
There was silence for a moment… then the old man spoke again, warm and certain.
"You may not know now, Sena. But I can tell you one thing."
A pause.
"You deserve a second chance."
Sena looked up slowly, startled.
"To love again? On Earth?" he asked quietly.
The old man chuckled—a soft, knowing sound.
"No," he said with a smirk. "Not Earth. Somewhere far more interesting."
He lifted his hand, and the whiteness around them began to shimmer, like fog peeling away from a hidden truth.
"A world where artifacts rule—where power isn't born, but found. Shaped. Fought for."
"Artifacts…?" Sena echoed.
"Yes," the old man nodded. "You can find them anywhere—hidden in ruins, passed down through bloodlines, sealed in ancient vaults. But the rare ones? No. They don't just wait to be found. They choose. And beyond them…"
He leaned closer, eyes gleaming.
"There are even rarer ones—mythic, legendary, cursed, divine."
The air around them seemed to hum as he continued, his voice rising with excitement.
"And in that world, artifacts aren't the only things that exist. Magic. Monsters. Demons. Swords sharper than fate itself. All of them are real."
He smiled.
"That world is called Arrionn."
Sena stared, the whiteness around him trembling like it could barely contain the truth being spoken.
The old man—no, the being—looked at him with ancient eyes, far too deep for any human.
And then he spoke, his voice no longer just a voice, but a force.
"I am the End that births Beginnings."
The air stilled. Time itself seemed to pause.
"From the cradle to the grave, and from the grave to the stars—I am the breath between heartbeats, the silence after a scream, the spark within decay."
Each word resonated in Sena's bones, echoing through the void around them.
"They call me many names: Shepherd of Souls, Warden of Cycles, Father of Rebirth…"
The figure took a step forward, power radiating like quiet fire.
"…but you may call me what I am—God of Life, Death, and all that lies between."
Sena could barely breathe. The weight of those words, of what they meant, pressed on his chest like the entire sky leaning down to meet him.
And yet… somewhere inside, a new flame flickered.
Hope.
The god stepped forward, robes flowing like shadows stitched with stars. His presence felt heavier now, more real—as if the void itself bent around him.
"You can choose what fate you want," he said calmly, yet with immeasurable weight behind the words. "But before you take that step… I will bestow upon you a gift."
He raised a hand and reached forward—not threatening, but reverent.
Then, with a single finger, he touched the center of Sena's chest.
"Your heart," he said, voice lowering, "will be more than important. It will be everything."
Clang.
A deep, metallic sound echoed from within Sena's chest, like a divine bell struck inside his soul.
"Ghh—ahhh!!" Sena gasped, staggering back as a sudden, searing pain lit up his insides. "A-ack!"
His knees buckled. His body convulsed.
Then—power.
A surge unlike anything he'd ever felt flooded through him. His bones sang. His veins glowed.
His hair turned pure white, silvery strands catching the light of the void. His once-gentle eyes sharpened into brilliant, piercing silver. His skin shifted to a pale, glowing tone like moonlight woven into flesh.
The transformation burned and enlightened him all at once.
From somewhere above, the voice returned—urgent now, but calm.
"Don't let him die," it commanded the world itself. "He's not done yet."
And then—
Sena vanished.
The void shattered like glass around him as his soul was cast forward—through light, through stars, through the veil between realms—
—into the world of Arrionn.
Where he would live again.
"Ugh… ahhh…"
Sena groaned as he stirred awake, the sensation of grass beneath his fingers and a cool breeze brushing his face. He sat up slowly, eyes squinting at the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense canopy above.
"Where… am I?" he muttered.
Ding!
A soft chime echoed in his head, followed by a clean, digital voice.
[Welcome, User: Sena]
[Current Location: Flarionn Forest, Eastern Territory of the Flarionn Kingdom]
"Huh?" Sena blinked. A floating screen hovered before him—semi-transparent, glowing with arcane light.
He glanced around.
Emerald-green trees stretched toward the sky, their leaves rustling gently in the wind. The air was crisp, fresh—more alive than anything he'd ever breathed on Earth. It smelled like magic.
The breeze passed through his silver hair like a soft hand, and he let out an involuntary sigh.
"This… really is like a fantasy world," he murmured.
Then he looked down.
His body was lean, toned—athletic in a way it never had been before. No more stick-thin limbs or sleepy posture. He looked like someone who actually knew how to throw a punch… and win.
Suddenly, voices carried faintly through the forest.
"Huh?" Sena's eyes focused—and then zoomed.
From hundreds of meters away, he could clearly make out travelers walking a forest path, even hear the clinking of their gear and quiet conversation.
"Whoa! What was that?!"
[That's a passive vision enhancement, courtesy of your divine upgrade.]
[Attribute Source: GOLD]
"Gold??" Sena blinked. "Like… the shiny stuff?"
[Incorrect.]
[G.O.L.D — God Of Life and Death]
"Oh… I know," Sena muttered, glancing away with a hint of pink on his cheeks. The memory of that dramatic, cosmic introduction flashed in his head.
The system paused.
[...You're blushing.]
"I am not," he shot back.
[Confirmed: Flustered.]
[Emotion Tag: Embarrassed. Reason: Spiritual crush on divine entity?]
"Wha—shut up!!"
[Noted. Suppressing emotional log. (Temporarily.)]
Sena took a deep breath, finally starting to calm down.
"Alright, System," he said, arms crossed. "If I've been reincarnated in a fantasy world, that means I've got skills, right?"
[Incorrect.]
"…What."
[You will work on that.]
"What do you mean 'work on that'?! I don't have anything?! Not even a starter skill!?"
[Correct. You will receive your first skill opportunity in—]
A countdown began to flash in midair.
[5… 4… 3… 2…]
The voice added cheerfully:
"Sena, here we go!"
[1.]
Rustle—
Something huge crashed through the bushes behind him.
"Wahhhh!!" Sena yelped as a massive green figure lunged straight at him.
A towering orc, easily twice his size, snarled with tusks bared and a massive club raised high.
"WHAT IS THAT?!" Sena screamed, diving to the side just in time as the club slammed into the ground where he'd been standing.
[That is your tutorial.]
"TUTORIAL?! THIS THING WANTS TO TURN ME INTO PASTE!"
[Correct. Please enjoy your first combat learning experience.]
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?!"
[Emotion Log: Terror. Response Tag: Comedy Gold.]
"STOP LAUGHING AND HELP ME!!"
[No.]