Do you know how soul matter bends when it breaks?
Of course you don't. You're mortal. Finite. Predictable. That's the worst part about you people, really — the predictability. For a while, you're all fire and passion, driven by hormones, drama, or hunger. Then comes fear, regret, and decay.
But occasionally… occasionally…A soul catches my attention.
Not because it's powerful — no, I could create a trillion suns brighter than your most sacred warrior with a passing thought. It's about flavor. About the way a soul responds when everything it knows is stripped away.
That's why I snatched this one.
Some twenty-something human, brain fried on anime and isekai novels, died in a wet little car crash on a rainy Earth highway. Instant. Messy. Forgettable.
And yet, when I plucked his soul mid-transition, there was... spice.
Someone with nothing to regret but also stuck in the dullness of his life.
He didn't scream. He didn't beg. He thought.
> "If this is death, then where's the light?"
How poetic. I could work with that.
---
I materialized a pocket of existence to set the mood — swirling galaxies, old drama masks, fragments of forgotten dreams stitched together with the smell of stars.
And there I was, lounging on a throne made from concepts your science hasn't even invented yet, when the little soul began to stabilize.
> "Ah," I said, twirling a newborn nebula between my fingers. "You're awake."
His soul reformed quickly — good sign. That meant I could push him harder without him unraveling.
He looked around, eyes wide, breath quick. Still holding together.
> "You're... not God," he muttered.
> "Please," I yawned, "don't insult me. 'God' is such a narrow title. Let's stick with something fun. Call me ROB. Random Omnipotent Being. Has a nice modern ring to it."
I could practically feel the gears turning in his head. Otaku brain, absolutely — running through every isekai story he'd ever read, trying to make sense of where he was.
Delightful.
> "Am I getting reincarnated? Do I get, you know…. wishes?" he asked slowly.
I smirked. He was holding it together well.
> "Three," I said, holding up fingers made of starlight. "Standard package. Soul was dull, death was boring, so now I'm giving you a shot at reincarnation. Think of it as a... creative experiment. Or therapy. Or entertainment."
Mine, of course.
> "Which world?" he asked — sharp, already on strategy.
Oh, I liked this one.
> "Naruto," I answered with a chuckle. "Full chakra buffet, plenty of war and trauma, and more eye powers than common sense."
He actually grinned — there it was. That flicker of joy, that twisted little thrill. He was in.
---
The first wish came fast.
> "I want a self-creation ability," he said. "To create bloodlines, abilities, powers, even races — using equivalent energy as the cost."
Oh ho ho. Now that's a proper sandboxer request.
> "Approved," I said, scribbling it into his soul like a cheat code.
Second wish?
> "Give me energy — enough to create five omega-level powers."
Now that made me chuckle.
> "Greedy, greedy," I said. "But you're squishy. Your current form can only handle about three. So that's what you'll get. Three omegas' worth of creative juice."
He looked frustrated, but I respected the restraint. Most souls whine or try to renegotiate.
And then came the third wish. This one... got my full attention.
> "A multiversal group chat system," he said. "One that connects me to characters across anime, games, movies, series… anyone you're willing to plug in."
I blinked. Then laughed. Out loud.
> "You little chaos gremlin," I said. "That's a new one."
I reached into the threads of existence, pulled out a dormant admin shard from an old web-of-realities experiment, and wove it into his conceptual frame.
> "Granted. With moderation. Can't have you blowing your mind talking to Cthulhu just yet."
---
He stood tall now — calm, composed. The fear was gone. All that remained was focus.
How beautiful. He was going to be so much fun to watch.
> "You're ready then?" I asked.
He nodded. "I am."
So I snapped my fingers.
Light and shadow wrapped around his soul, preparing to hurl him into the Naruto universe. But before I let him go, I added... a little twist.
> "Oh, one last thing," I said. "I've made a few edits. Some little tweaks, trust me you will like them. Unlocked a bit more... creativity. Chaos. Conflict."
He looked at me sharply.
> "Wha-"
He opened his mouth to protest, but the dimensional gate was already pulling him through.
> "Enjoy the ride, my little wildcard," I whispered. "I've prepared a twist in your Leaf Village experience you'll never see coming."
And then — he was gone.
---
I slumped back in my throne with a grin, watching the screen of fate shimmer to life.
Oh, this one was going to be fun. I could already hear the background music swelling.
Let the mayhem begin.