Dirk Sanchez had always been… alone.
He wasn't bullied in school, nor was he particularly hated. But he was invisible—the kid who slipped through the cracks, who teachers forgot to call on, who classmates rarely noticed unless he was in their way. His father worked double shifts and barely came home, while his mother had walked out years ago.
Dirk grew up raising himself. The only companions he ever had were the comics stacked beside his bed and the cartoons that colored his childhood. Adventure Time had been his comfort when the nights felt too long, when silence clawed at his mind. He admired heroes, warriors, and even villains—anyone who lived boldly, unlike him.
His grades? Above average, but not brilliant. His social life? Nonexistent. The outside world seemed gray and empty compared to the multiverses inside his imagination.
Dirk often wondered if maybe he had been born in the wrong world. A thought that lingered every night: What if I had power? What if I could live a life where I mattered?
---
The Night of Death
It was supposed to be just another binge. A Thursday night in his cramped apartment, curtains drawn, the glow of the screen painting shadows on his unkempt hair. Empty ramen cups and energy drink cans littered the desk.
But Netflix had released Wednesday.
Dirk thought he'd watch an episode or two. Instead, one bled into another, and another. His heart raced with every scene, his eyes locked onto Wednesday Addams, a girl so unapologetically herself that he couldn't look away. In her, he saw everything he wasn't—confidence, sharp wit, purpose.
By 3 AM, his head throbbed. By 5 AM, his hands trembled from caffeine overload. By 7 AM, the credits rolled, but his eyes refused to close. His body begged for sleep, but his mind whispered, one more rewatch.
Dirk chuckled bitterly, clutching his chest. "Damn… I really am pathetic."
Then the world tilted. His breath hitched. His vision blurred—not from exhaustion alone, but from his body finally giving up. His heart slowed, his lungs seized.
The last thing he saw was Wednesday's blank, piercing stare on screen. A fitting end for a boy who lived his life in fiction.
---
The Void
Dirk expected nothing after death. No heaven, no hell. Just oblivion.
Instead, he found himself standing in a void of endless black. His body felt weightless, but his thoughts burned with clarity.
A voice echoed from the abyss:
"An unusual death. A mortal destroyed by his own refusal to rest. Fascinating."
Dirk turned. A figure coalesced from the void, constantly shifting—man, woman, beast, light, shadow. Impossible to define.
"Who… are you?" Dirk whispered.
The being smiled—or at least, Dirk felt the sensation of a smile.
"I am ROB. Random Omnipotent Being. And you… are dead."
Dirk swallowed hard. He should have been terrified, yet a strange calm settled over him. Maybe because, deep down, he had always hoped for something like this.
"Why me?"
"Because I am entertained. You lived in silence, craving worlds beyond your own. You consumed stories but never had one of your own. I will give you a chance, Dirk Sanchez. A reincarnation. And three wishes."
Dirk's pulse quickened, though he no longer had a heart. Years of daydreaming had prepared him for this exact moment.
"Three wishes…" He thought carefully. This wasn't a comic anymore. This was his one shot.
He raised his head. "First, I want the Royal Viltrumite Bloodline. No weaknesses, no limits. I'll grow infinitely stronger—physically, mentally, spiritually."
ROB tilted its head.
"A dangerous choice. Viltrumites are conquerors."
Dirk's jaw tightened. "Then I'll be a Viltrumite who conquers fate itself."
"Very well. Granted. Second?"
"I want absolute immunity. No one can steal, copy, or experiment on me. No one can harm me—physically, mentally, spiritually."
ROB chuckled.
"You protect yourself well. And your final wish?"
Dirk smirked, the first genuine smile in years. "I want godly talent. Whatever I do, I'll excel in. Fighting. Learning. Magic. Anything."
Silence stretched. Then, the void rippled with laughter.
"How amusing. You think like a strategist, not a fool. So be it, Dirk Sanchez. All three wishes are yours."
A pull yanked him downward, as though gravity itself had remembered him.
His last thought before vanishing was simple, raw, and unshakable:
This time, I won't just watch. This time… I'll live.
And with that, Dirk Sanchez was reborn.