The forest was quiet again. Smoke from the shattered cliff drifted lazily into the air, carrying the scent of earth and pine. Dirk sat cross-legged on the ground, his massive frame strangely at peace amid the ruins of his own strength test.
But his mind wasn't calm.
He kept hearing ROB's voice echoing in the back of his head. "Your third wish… godly talent in anything you attempt."
Dirk flexed his fingers. "So far, I've tested brute force. But talent… that's different. That's not just muscle. That's… potential."
He spotted a broken branch nearby and picked it up. The wood was jagged, rough. He twirled it between his fingers, humming softly. His hand moved instinctively, trimming the branch against a flat stone. He had no knife, no tools, no prior practice—yet within minutes, the bark peeled clean, the edges smoothed, and the stick began to resemble a polished staff.
Dirk blinked down at it.
"…I've never whittled in my life."
---
Test One: Music
On impulse, he hollowed a groove down the staff's side, carving small notches with nothing but his fingernail. His fingers danced across the wood as though guided by memory he didn't own.
He raised it to his lips.
The sound that spilled out was haunting. A melody, soft but clear, carried through the trees like a lullaby whispered by the wind. Birds stopped mid-flight, perching on branches to listen. Even the rustling leaves seemed to still.
Dirk's chest tightened.
"…I can play?"
He chuckled bitterly. "I spent years binge-watching shows because I had no skills. No hobbies. Just… existing. Now, with no practice, I can play a damn flute better than professionals."
The music turned sharp, triumphant. He wasn't just playing—he was pouring himself into it. Every note carried emotion: his loneliness, his rebirth, his hunger for meaning.
When he finally lowered the flute, the forest was silent.
And for the first time, Dirk Sanchez felt heard.
---
Test Two: Combat
He stood, planting the makeshift staff into the ground.
"…Alright. Music's one thing. But talent should mean combat too, right?"
He closed his eyes, gripping the staff like a spear. Instantly, his body shifted. His stance lowered, his breathing steadied. Movements flowed without thought—spins, thrusts, defensive sweeps.
Every motion was perfect. Balanced. Efficient.
Dirk frowned. "It's not just skill… it's instinct."
He imagined an opponent and lunged. The air cracked as the staff sliced through, precise as a blade. He twisted, jabbed, spun into a sweeping kick, then planted the weapon into the dirt with flawless control.
No wasted movement. No hesitation.
He exhaled, realizing what this meant.
"I don't need training arcs. I don't need teachers. I can become a master the moment I try."
But the realization didn't inflate his ego—it humbled him.
Because if he could master anything instantly, then he had a responsibility not to waste it.
---
Test Three: Creation
Dirk crouched near the rubble of the shattered cliff. He picked up a jagged shard of stone, running his thumb across it.
"…Let's see."
He began carving against another rock, sparks flickering. His hands moved faster, surer, until the shard was no longer jagged but smooth, shaped into a crude blade. The balance was perfect, edges razor-thin.
He gave it an experimental swing—whistling through the air like tempered steel.
"…I just forged a weapon out of a rock." He laughed in disbelief. "What the hell am I?"
---
Reflection
Dirk sat again, flute in one hand, stone blade in the other. The weight of his wishes finally settled in his chest.
Strength beyond measure.
Immunity to all harm.
Talent in everything.
"…This isn't just reincarnation. It's reinvention."
His eyes hardened.
"I wasted my first life. No friends. No family. Just screens. This time… I won't waste a second."
The setting sun bled gold and crimson across the horizon, painting his towering frame in firelight. Tomorrow he would step into Nevermore Academy. Tomorrow he would meet others—Wednesday, Enid, students who carried their own burdens.
And Dirk Sanchez would no longer be a background watcher.
He would be the storm that rewrote their world.