There was no sound...
No up, no down. Just… drifting.
Sam floated aimlessly in a boundless expanse of shifting colors and glowing streams, as though someone had cracked open a kaleidoscope inside a galaxy.
Each stream of light curved and swayed like sentient ribbons, dancing to a rhythm Sam couldn't hear.
He tried to speak... he tried to move... but nothing worked.
He was light.
Not in a poetic way. Literally light. A strand, flickering faintly in a river of luminous souls.
Before he could process anything further, a gravitational force pulled him.
One moment he was flowing along with the others, the next he was being pulled forcefully toward the center of this glowing domain.
Ahead, a figure emerged from the haze.
A throne, carved from what looked like pure celestial crystal, floated in the heart of this place. Upon it sat a man… or at least something like a man.
He was massive and draped in ethereal robes that glittered like the night sky itself.
A long white beard cascaded down his chest, and his staff which was taller than any human, rested calmly against the throne.
His eyes were made of glowing stars... Not metaphorically... his eyes were literal stars.
Sam, still in his glowing stream form, floated toward him, unable to resist.
As he reached the base of the throne, his body began to shift.
Light gave way to shape. Translucent flesh, reformed. Hair, skin, a tattered shirt, old jeans and one shoe.
"Wait… I look like myself…" Sam murmured, inspecting his translucent hand. "And I still got that hole in my shirt?"
"You have arrived," the strange old man's voice reverberated like it echoed through time itself.
Sam blinked. "Yo, real talk… am I dead?"
The man nodded slowly.
"…So this is, what—heaven? Limbo? That weird loading screen in games?"
Silence~
Sam's finger shot forward. "Hold up. Are you God?"
"No."
"Are you his… cousin?"
"…No."
"Okay, okay, lemme guess—you're like the spirit of reincarnation or the Guardian of Galaxy Streams or some weird omnipotent janitor."
The man's eyes narrowed. "…Silence."
Sam's mouth closed reflexively. "Okay. Rude."
The man leaned forward. "Because you died a hero's death… risking everything to protect the lives of those who could not protect themselves… you have been chosen."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Chosen for what? A trophy? An all-expense-paid ghost vacation?"
The man ignored him. "You have been selected—plucked from the cycle of souls—for rebirth in another world. A new plane of existence. One that needs your spirit."
Sam stared briefly in disbelief and then laughed.
"Nope."
The man blinked. "…No?"
"Hard pass," Sam stated while folding his arms. "Look, I did my part. I died cool. Like, really cool. Kids are probably still crying over me. I'm not about to be reborn and start life again just to go back to bills, heartbreak, and buying garri on credit. Life is a disappointment, I'm happy to be dead."
The man's brow furrowed deeply. "This is… highly unusual. No one refuses the Cycle."
"Well, congratulations. First time for everything."
"You amounted to nothing in your last life. Do you not wish for a second chance?"
"Bro," Sam voiced while pointing at himself. "I was poor, unemployed, and still managed to be loved by half the neighborhood and die a hero. That's a W in my books. Why would I want to go do taxes again?"
The man exhaled. "Think about it."
"No."
"You really don't—?"
"No."
"What if I told you—"
"No."
The throne room echoed with the awkward tension of divine persuasion failing.
The man sighed while tapping his staff against the floor of nothingness.
He had his secret reasons... for wanting this particular soul to reincarnate.
But the choice had to be willful. No consent, no rebirth.
Then… a memory flickered.
He opened his glowing eyes slightly wider.
"You liked… fiction, didn't you?" he asked slowly. "Stories. Books. Films."
Sam paused. "…Maybe."
"You consumed hundreds of worlds in your imagination. Superheroes. Magic. Epic wars. Legendary underdogs. Is this correct?"
Sam squinted suspiciously. "Where are you going with this, star-eyes?"
The man leaned forward with a calm and deliberate tone. "What if I told you… the world I wish to send you to is one where supernatural powers exist? Where magic courses through the land. Where monsters, sorcery, and ancient kingdoms fill the realm. Where you could… matter, again."
Sam's jaw dropped slightly. "You mean like… a world where people can shoot fire from their hands and do crazy ninja flips?"
"Yes."
"With swords?"
"Yes."
"And demons and stuff?"
"Yes."
Sam leaned forward with widened eyes. "Are you telling me I'm about to be isekai'd?"
The man furrowed his brows. "…If that word means reborn into a realm where magic exists, then yes."
Sam grinned so wide it practically glowed.
"Sign. Me. Up."
The man chuckled faintly beneath his beard, then stood for the first time. He raised the staff high, and radiant rings of glyphs began to circle around Sam's translucent body.
"Your essence shall be reborn into the world of Lioren. You will not remember this place, but your soul will carry what it needs, memories from your past life. You will begin anew—with a chance to become more than what you were."
Light surged.
"Wait!" Sam yelled as the process began. "What about Wes? Is he gonna be there?"
The man simply shrugged.
"Maybe."
"Bruhhh—! That's not—!"
And with a final surge of blinding light, Sam vanished.
The throne room grew quiet once more as the strange man sat back down.
A flicker of amusement touched his lips as he whispered to no one in particular:
"Let the games begin… Iora we shall see whose candidate comes out on top."
...
...
Where Sam had awoken in a stream of stars and rivers of light, Wes emerged somewhere… softer.
The realm around him was surrounded with hues of lavender and rose gold.
Thick clouds like silk floated endlessly through a radiant sky. It felt like standing inside the dreams of a painter. It was warm, surreal and soothing.
Wes, or at least what remained of him, existed as a flicker of golden light drifting upward. He moved not by will, but by invitation, gently pulled like a leaf on a quiet breeze.
As he ascended, a colossal throne of crystalline opal slowly came into view.
It emitted a soft fluorescent light, nestled within a swirl of glowing clouds.
Seated on it was a radiant, immense, and incomprehensibly divine feminine figure.
It looked like a woman even though that word felt too small to capture her.
Her presence was celestial beauty made manifest, with flowing hair that cascaded like a waterfall of stardust, eyes that swirled with galaxies, and skin kissed by moonlight.
She held no staff, no weapon or tool... just raw, graceful power that made the very air tremble with reverence.
As Wes neared, his light form shifted and morphed like Sam's had into a ghostly version of his original body.
Same old scruffy beard, crooked nose, and the uniform of a man who'd fixed too many generators in his lifetime.
He blinked and looked around with a stunned expression and arms half-limp.
"...Is this heaven?" he questioned cautiously.
The woman smiled, and even that simple motion seemed to alter the colors of the clouds. "No, Wes. Not heaven. Something… more transitional."
Wes rubbed his neck. "So I'm dead, huh."
"You died a noble death. Protecting the innocent. Laying down your life for those who could not save themselves."
"Yeah… sounds about right," Wes voiced quietly as his eyes turned misty for just a moment. "Is Sam here too? My buddy?"
The woman didn't answer right away. Instead, she gestured, and the clouds shifted around them, revealing a vision of another realm entirely, dark and rich in ancient forests, glowing crystals, volcanic peaks, and towering castles.
"This world is called Lioren."
Wes turned to the vision, captivated.
"In this world, magic is real," she said. "Wonders exist beside horrors. The skies breathe lightning. The oceans cradle ancient leviathans. And races: druids, elves, dwarves, human and otherwise—vie for dominion, survival, and glory."
Wes whistled under his breath. "That sounds... insane."
"You will be reborn there, Wes. As royalty."
He blinked. "Royalty? Like… palace? Golden toilets?"
She chuckled in response, sounding like soft bells in the wind. "Yes. You will have influence. Bloodline. Power. But you will also bear responsibility."
Wes's grin faded slightly. "Let me guess… something big is coming."
The clouds twisted, revealing a secluded location in the horizon of Lioren.
Horned silhouettes with blueish skins and glowing crimson eyes.
"A certain race, remembered as the ones who triggered the breaking of the firmament and rightfully isolated, will one day, threaten to put the world at risk again. And when they do, your family… your kingdom… will need a protector."
She looked at him with a fierce, motherly fire.
"You are that protector..."
Wes took a deep breath. "So… magic, monsters, war, and royal drama?"
"Yes."
He cracked his knuckles. "Honestly? Beats fixing diesel generators and dodging rent. I'm in."
The woman's smile widened as her eyes softened.
"You accept your fate willingly, then?"
"Hell yeah. Sounds like a new life worth living. But hold... what do you mean by the breaking of the firmament?"
"You will find out more upon your rebirth... You shall begin anew… as a child. But you will awaken to your purpose in time."
"I always wanted to say something epic like, 'I was born for this.' Guess I finally earned it."
The clouds swirled tighter now, forming ancient symbols around him. A radiant circle appeared beneath his feet, glowing brighter by the second.
The reincarnation was beginning.
As light consumed him, Wes looked up one last time.
"…Will Sam be there?"
The woman's expression shifted from soft motherly into something a little sinister.
In response, she let out an ominous laughter that echoed through the clouds like thunder masked by perfume.
"Hahaha…"
And then... Wes vanished.