The blaring alarms faded into nothingness, leaving behind an all-encompassing silence. Bed 744, once occupied by a man with a fleeting existence, stood empty. His soul drifted through an infinite expanse, surrounded by swirling stars and galaxies—a dazzling yet disorienting display of the universe's vastness.
Amidst this endless void, a radiant figure appeared, exuding a strange mix of power and familiarity. He didn't look like an imposing god, but more like an eccentric old friend—one who had carried the weight of countless years but still managed to remain relaxed and casual. He leaned lazily on an invisible staff, watching the newly arrived soul with a raised eyebrow.
"You again?" the figure asked, his voice a curious blend of amusement and annoyance. "How long has it been? Two centuries? Three?"
The man's soul flickered faintly, his form still vague and uncertain. "Do you… know me?" His voice trembled, laced with confusion. "Where am I? And… who am I?"
The god chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow, straight to the existential crisis, huh? Same old you. Always waking up like this." He waved vaguely at the swirling galaxies around them. "You're in the in-between, my friend. My domain. And as for who you are…" He paused, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. "Well, you've had a lot of names, a lot of lives. But I guess none of them stuck, huh?"
Frustration flashed across the man's face. "What are you talking about? I don't understand any of this!"
"Yeah, yeah, you never did," the god said, smirking. "That's what makes this so entertaining. But don't worry, I'm here to help. I always am." His expression softened slightly as he leaned closer. "Wow, you really didn't change a thing, huh? How do you feel about being crazy, hahahaha!"
The man stared at him, bewildered. "I still don't know who you are."
The god sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Of course you don't. Lucky for you, I'm patient." He snapped his fingers, and a massive planet appeared before them. Its vast expanse dwarfed everything the man had ever known, glowing faintly with an ethereal light.
"Well, no time for idle chatter. Let's get you set up," the god said, pointing at the planet. "That's your destination this time."
The man stared at the planet in awe. "What is that place?"
"Does it matter?" the god replied teasingly. "Trust me, you'll love it. Big, exciting, full of danger—all the things you like. Oh, and this time…" He snapped his fingers again, and a scroll materialized in his hand, which he unrolled with exaggerated flair. "Let's go with… Inari. That sounds good."
"Inari?" the man repeated, his confusion deepening.
"Yeah, yeah, don't overthink it. You'll figure it out," the god said dismissively. Then he grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Or maybe you won't. Either way, I'll enjoy watching."
Before the man could protest, the god clapped his hands. The universe spun violently, galaxies and stars collapsing into a vortex of light. The man's thoughts dissolved, his very essence spiraling into the chaos.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer a man. He was an infant, cradled lovingly in the arms of a joyful woman. Her smile was warm, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. Beside her stood a man, broad-shouldered and proud, gazing at the baby as if he were the most precious thing in the world.
"What should we name him, darling?" the man asked softly, his voice filled with wonder.
The woman leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Novax Lyx," she said, her smile growing wider.
The baby blinked, adjusting to the new sensations of his surroundings. Deep within him, fragments of his past stirred—vague and distant, like a whisper just beyond reach. The only thought that echoed through his newborn mind was: How do I know that name?
But there was no time to ponder. His new life had begun.