I had just finished my late-night workout at the gym. Shoulders sore, hoodie damp, and music still thudding in my headphones, I pulled the hood over my head and stepped into the cool air of a dying summer night. Thirty years old today. Dirty thirty, some people call it.
I called it a benchmark, one I passed quietly, without a big celebration. Still, I was healthy. Decent shape. No kids, no criminal record, no ex-wives, just an ex-girlfriend I don't trust. But I can't seem to let go, no matter how many times she comes in and out of my life. So my love life is questionable. But my peace is intact when I'm by myself.
As I sat in my car, sweat was sticking to my face. I didn't think about a birthday vacation due to the weight of the world. Because frankly, the world was circling the drain either way. All I wanted right now was a hot shower and maybe a double shot of tequila. I drove in silence, no music this time, letting the low rumble of my engine carry my thoughts.
Then the lights came blinding me. I couldn't see anything. Then the sound of screeching tires. My car was T-boned from the left. Metal screamed. My body lurched, spine twisting. And then nothing.
No sound or pain. Just the endless dark, and I was falling into it. I felt myself drifting into nothingness and my consciousness fading slowly. Then, at once, I was floating in an open void in my now translucent naked body.
I don't know how long I was in that space. Time didn't feel like it mattered anymore. Everything went silent, I could hear was my breathing, which felt like a reflex because if I had no body or lungs, I shouldn't be breathing.
As I looked down at my now translucent body, which was like a ghost. Like my soul had been peeled from flesh. A surge of embarrassment washed over me until realization kicked in. "SHIT," I screamed. "I'M FUCKING DEAD." A loud breath, and a long one, echoed through me. I wasn't afraid. Not anymore. Just stunned.
"Did that help?" said a voice, a feminine, warm, almost playful. The sound echoed all around me. I turned in place, twisting my head. "Who said that?" I looked around, seeing no one and nothing multiple times.
That's when the feeling hit, the primal dread that crawls up your spine when something predatorial looks at you. Every part of my being screamed Don't look. But I did anyway, and there I saw it. Two colossal eyes stared down at me. Purple. Laced with black, swirling lines that danced hypnotically from the edge of the irises toward the center like whirlpools drawing in stars. The void itself seemed to bend under their gaze.
"What the fuck…" I whispered. Then a figure materialized in front of me in an instant. A woman, if you could call her that. She stood at least seven feet tall, her presence filling the space like a tidal wave of desire and dread. Her skin had a golden tanned sheen, flawless and radiant, wrapped in amethyst silk that clung to her curves like it was painted on. Her chest, her hips… her everything felt engineered for distraction and desire. A wet dream given divine shape.
Scarlet hair braided back, cascading into a thick ponytail that glimmered with flecks of red-gold light. Her supple lips were full and pink, drawn in a sly smile. But her eyes, those same monstrous celestial ones, were watching me now through a mortal guise.
"You screamed," she said again, smirking. "Did it help?" I blinked. "Yeah. A little." I rubbed my temples. "So I am dead?"
"Yes." She said with a cheerful smile. "Are you an angel or God?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed, an oddly comforting sound. "No, not quite an Angle. I suppose you could call me a god; you wouldn't be wrong in a sense. Or just… someone with too much power and time on her hands."
"So you're gonna send my soul to heaven or hell?"
"I could. But I'm not here to recycle you into heaven or hell. That would be a waste and very Boring."
A snap of her fingers and I was seated mid-air, facing her across a translucent desk and floating screen like something out of a high-concept sci-fi flick. She typed idly on glowing keys, examining something on the screen. "I'm in my creative era," she said brightly. "Eternity's a long time. So I'm doing fanfiction."
"…you're what?" She smiled innocently. "Your world fascinates me. All the little stories you tell convey so much emotion, conflict, tragedy, triumph. And the multiverse is just a giant sandbox. I thought I'd try my hand at it. But I need a main character."
I crossed my arms. "So you want to use my life like a story template? Rewriting a different version of the same tale?"
"Exactly!" Her tone was chipper. "But you benefit too." I raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?" She turned the translucent screen toward me. It flashed with countless realms, Star Wars, Percy Jackson, Dragon Ball Z, and The Witcher, all swirling like kaleidoscopes of alternate reality.
"You get to live again. Wherever and whenever you want and however you want. Power, a system, even a body upgrade, hell, make it a harem fantasy if that's your thing. I was human once, so I know the appeal."
I narrowed my eyes. "You were human once?" Her grin deepened. "Mhmm."
I stare in disbelief wondering in disbelief of her statement. "So… what's the catch? Why should I say yes?" She paused. Then a flat voice. " Your life was irrelevant and so was your death, whether it was now or later."
The air got colder. I swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"
She tapped the screen again. "Jasen. Doomed to be strung along by an ex you already suspected of lying and caught lying to you multiple times. She does leave this time for good. Gets pregnant by someone else within the year. You hang on like a ghost until it's too late. You have no kids, no legacy of your existence. Same job until it's gone, then homeless at 33 and dead by 37, suicide."
It took a moment to process what she said. Then it all hit me at once I slumped. My head dropped into my hands. A weight I always knew that I was carrying crushed down on my chest; nothing could hold back the truth now that I was dead. "…so I was right," I muttered. "She never loved me. I was just… holding on to a memory."
She didn't respond, just let the silence stew, and minutes passed, then I sat up straight, breath shaking but eyes steady. "I know what story I want to tell," I said. Conviction sparked in my eyes and voice. She leaned forward. "Then speak it."
I smiled. Broken, bitter, but resolved. "Then speak it," she said.
Her voice rang out like a spell cast in stillness—bright and commanding, yet soft enough to leave an echo in the space where time meant nothing. She leaned forward, her otherworldly presence hovering just above her chair, fingers poised at the translucent keys of her celestial console.
I took a breath. The kind you only take when you know your soul is about to be carved into a story. "I want to be reborn into the world of A Song of Ice and Fire."
"Ooohhh…" she cooed, her eyes widening, the spiraling violet vortexes spinning faster in intrigue. "Now that's a pick." Her fingers fluttered across her keyboard like a musician at a grand piano.
"I want the events to follow the books primarily," I continued, "but you can include original characters from the show too. Some of them… had potential." She smirked. "Mmhmm. I can make that work. Just say the word if there's a character you want killed off sooner." I chuckled, "Oh, there'll be blood, love, war, and fire." "What else?" she asked, eyes glowing.
"I want the cast slightly aged up, like the show still gritty, still raw, but… finer cut, if you know what I mean. More attractive, sharper, fewer children with swords and more war-forged heirs."
"Oh, I can definitely make that work," she said, biting her lip as she typed. "Thrones but make it model-tier medieval trauma." I grinned. "I want to be born at least fifteen years before the events of the books. Give me time to build something and establish myself."
She nodded, "Consider it done. What else?"
"I want to have Force powers." Then the sound of typing suddenly stopped, and her head tilted. One eyebrow slowly raised. "Excuse me?"
"Let me explain." I leaned forward, folding my hands like I was negotiating with a bored but powerful goddess, which I was. "Yes, it's sort of a power fantasy, but not the cheap kind. I want a mythos. A fusion."
She crossed her legs, resting her chin on her knuckles. "Go on"
"I want you to combine Star Wars and Game of Thrones mythology and power system. Specifically, during the Knights of the Old Republic era. I want to be a descendant of Revan. My version of Revan default black character from the "Knights of the Old Republic" game. With a few touch-ups, like eye color. Give him strong and good genetics to have a strong and tall body. That can be passed down the family, especially to me. With high force affinity."
Loreinda's eyes sparkled. "Now you have my attention."
"In this version," I said, "Revan receives a vision through the Force weeks before the fall of ancient Valyria during the cataclysm. In an ancient, underdeveloped world, in a land ruled by dragon lords. He will follow the vision, bringing Meetra Surik with him. They arrive just in time to save a noble, highborn Valyrian family from the Doom. Around 7 of them."
"Nice touch," she said, typing again.
"They will be taken land in Essos just outside the free cities. They will have no dragons or eggs, just the blood of Dragon lords in their veins and whatever knowledge, skills they already had. This family will be from among the highest echelons in Valyria, second only to the Freehold's ruling dynasty. But they will lose everything, titles, wealth, their homeland, and have to start over."
"You have a name for the family?"
"No, you can name them. Just make it feel old, Valyrian, something powerful."
"Oh, you're letting me have a say? Consider it done, so please keep going." She said with a bright smile
"Revan will form a bond with one of the daughters of the family he saves. Not some cheesy romance, it's short, full of passion, complicated, and very real. He helps them relocate to Essos. Teaches them, with the help of Meetra, how to fight and survive with what little time they have. Revan will learn about their ancient magic and their old archaic ways and find a connection between the Force and how they use it, similar to how the witches of Dathomir do."
"Oh, so magic and the force are somewhat the same, just different approaches in this universe?"
"Yes," I want to make all this blend together as much as possible. Through that connection and their physical relationship. Revan will have another vision: Of the Valerian woman pregnant with his child, and long after he's gone, the future of the realm. The wars, Aegon's conquest, the reign of the Targaryen dynasty, and their fall. Robert's Rebellion and the war for the realms, and lastly the white walkers and the Long Night."
I could see the goddess slowing her typing. Hanging on my every word.
"Meetra would help teach the Valerians' survivors how to survive. She will see how they have a connection with the Force and teach them a few things. Nothing to make them overpowered, but enough to read people's intentions, feel the force along with some techniques, and saber forms. As well as how to meditate and reinforce their natural abilities. She would not care for their noble, stuck-up attitudes and would help humble them quickly every time. She teaches them enough to survive for their new start. Meetra will warn Revan that they can't stay any longer."
"They would have been there for at least three months. While the Mandalorian Wars are nearly over and Malek is holding things together, but he can't do everything by himself. He left at the near end to follow the Force's call, but now the clock's ticking, and they must return. So they must go back to the front lines."
"Does he go back with her?"
"Yes, but not before leaving behind what he can. Some advanced technology, Jedi relics to help amply their force attunement, and some jewels and more. Revan will leave behind his holocron, but not the Sith one. This one is from right after he put on the Mask. It will be full of teachings in balance, discipline from combat through the war, and leading others. Lessons in the force from the Jedi, but not rigid like the order. Closer to Bendu teachings. It will also cover light saber forms and practical ways of using them from his era, as well as force abilities and techniques."
The goddess grinned widely. "I like this Revan."
"Meetra will call him mad. The Valyrian girl gives her a name, too doesn't understand. But he tells her, 'Generations from now, your bloodline will need every tool they can get. The world is crueler than she knows, and I won't be there to protect them.' Then he leaves."
"The girl?" she asked. "She raises the child on the teachings of old Valeria, along with the family, they will try to keep the culture alive while evolving to a new way of life. The child will be very gifted, and the family will manage over the generations to grow and adapt using what they know and what they learned from the Jedi. This will allow them to become distinguished nobility in Essos. "
"Revan and Meetra will never return due to the original events of KOTOR. But Revan's bloodline and teachings live on in that world." The goddess's fingers danced faster than ever. The white void shimmered as images formed behind her glimpses of ancient castles, black-armored warriors, blazing suns behind twin moons, and Valyrian glyphs burning like runes on invisible glass.
"And where do you come in?" she asked. "I want to be his descendant. A son of Essos with a new name, born of the high Valyria dragon lords and Revan's bloodline descendants. Four hundred years after the cataclysm and fifteen years before the events of the books. And…" I paused. "…make one of my great-grandparents a Targaryen bastard that traveled to Essos. You'll understand later."
The goddess's smile curled darkly. "I think I know what you're thinking of."
"Yes. But no spoilers, you'll just have to watch." The console shimmered into a closed book, etched in Valyrian steel. She waved her hand once, and it vanished into smoke.
She stood. "Anything else?" I hesitated, then asked, "What's your name?" Her head tilted, eyes glowing like nebulae. "Loreinda." I nodded. "Thank you, Loreinda. Buckle up for the show." She smiled, a genuine one, so wicked and yet divine. "No… thank you. I was getting bored." She waved me goodbye, then nothing but darkness, but not like before; this time, the void burned.
I screamed, but no sound escaped. My body twisted. Bones shattered and reformed. My mind cracked and splintered as thousands of years of history were carved into my blood. Fire and shadow. Stars and ash. Magic and the Force twined in my soul like twin serpents.
Then the true hell began.