The sound of laughter echoed inside the convenience store. Jason Black leaned on the counter, shaking his head as his best friend, Marcus, waved a freshly bought game case in the air.
"The Last of Us is peak, bro. Storytelling, characters, world-building. Ain't no other post-apocalyptic game touching it," Marcus declared like he was giving a TED Talk no one asked for.
Jason snorted. "Please. If you're talking realism? Metro Exodus wipes the floor with it. That's an actual survival experience. You step outside without a gas mask and boom you're dead. Resources? Scarce. Gun jams? Constant. You want post-apocalypse? That's it right there."
Their third friend, DeShawn, shook his head with mock disbelief. "Both of you are wrong. Fallout: New Vegas. End of discussion. Choices matter, factions matter, world matters. Plus, you get to nuke people if you feel like it. None of that escort-a-14-year-old-girl nonsense."
The three of them bickered as they walked toward the self-checkout, arms full of snacks and sodas. The argument was heated but playful, the type of debate they had every Friday night before gaming marathons.
"You know," Marcus said, smirking, "sometimes I think it'd be cool if the world just ended. Like poof. Civilization gone. Imagine it: just us, earth, and no rules. We'd be kings, man."
Jason gave him a side-eye. "You mean you'd die from drinking bad water in a week."
Marcus clutched his chest dramatically. "Cold. Heartless. And here I was gonna let you be my second-in-command when I build my wasteland empire."
DeShawn laughed. "Nah, Jason would be the first one to figure out how to purify water and build a bow. You'd still be arguing about PlayStation vs Xbox when the raiders showed up."
Jason chuckled but his smile dimmed as Marcus nudged him. "Anyway, how's your girl? You two good?"
Jason's jaw tightened for a second before he sighed. "We're… on a break. Not permanent. Just… space, you know? Things got messy… again."
Before Marcus could tease him, the sudden sound of shouting froze them all. A man stormed in through the entrance wild-eyed, shaking, pointing a gun.
Time slowed. Jason's instincts screamed, but there was no time to react.
A flash.
A bang.
Pain.
Then nothing.
Jason opened his eyes and immediately cursed. "What the hell…"
He wasn't in a hospital. Not even heaven or hell. He was sitting on what looked like the exterior of a giant satellite, floating in space, stars glittering like a spilled box of diamonds.
"Oh good, you're awake," a voice said casually. Jason whipped his head around. A man in a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses was reclining on a deck chair, sipping a martini.
"…You've gotta be kidding me… the setting is all messed up, you know."
The man raised his glass. "Name's Bob. Well, technically 'Rob,' but the kids these days call me an ROB—Random Omnipotent Being. I reincarnate folks. Sometimes I spin wheels, sometimes I flip coins. It's a whole business."
Jason blinked. "So I died?"
"Yup. Bullet to the chest. Hurt like hell. Real messy. Cleanup crew hated it."
Jason rubbed his temples. "And now what, you're gonna let me pick a world and some overpowered abilities? That's how these things go, right?"
Bob or ROB burst out laughing. "Oh no, no, no. You don't get choices. I choose. Keeps it fresh, keeps it spicy. Like mystery meat in school lunches."
Jason deadpanned. "Great. My life's in the hands of a cosmic game show host."
ROB pulled out a clipboard from thin air. "Congratulations, Jason Black. You've been selected for reincarnation into… drumroll please… The 100!"
Jason's mouth fell open. "…Wait, the CW show? You're dumping me in teen drama land?"
"Apocalyptic Earth, radioactive wastelands, murder-y teenagers, Grounders, Mountain Men, killer AI… Trust me, it'll be fun!" ROB grinned, twirling his drink.
Jason groaned. "I don't even get to pick my powers?"
"Nope. Already assigned: Super Soldier Serum package with the enhanced strength, speed, healing, durability. Plus Combat and Weapon Mastery DLC. You're basically Captain America, but sassier."
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, okay… that's actually pretty good. No, in fact… that's sublime. And the catch?"
ROB smirked. "You start in canon, episode one. Oh yeah, and one more thing try not to die so early."
Before Jason could argue, ROB snapped his fingers. The stars stretched, reality folded, and everything went black. The first thing Jason heard was his own breathing.
He jolted up, eyes wide, and looked around. Cold steel walls surrounded him. No windows. No door. Just a cramped space metal box, nothing else.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. Then it hit him. 'So this is the box'.
He leaned back against the wall, mind racing, and then froze as realization dawned. He pressed his palms against the wall, heart pounding.
'Holy shit… I'm in space. I'm in SPACE. Ha! Eat that, Marcus!'
The triumphant thought lasted only a second before a crushing sadness replaced it. Marcus. DeShawn. They were gone. They didn't get a second chance like did. Silent tears welled in his eyes as his body slumped down. His shoulders trembled.
"Shit…" he muttered, voice cracking. His chest shook as the weight of it all crashed down on him. He had actually died. Shot. Just like that. And now? Reincarnated into another world like some messed-up cosmic joke.
Wiping his tears with the back of his hand, Jason forced a chuckle. "Good thing I was an orphan, heh… nobody misses the orphans I don't think Mallory will even miss me." The words came out in a strange, broken tone.
He stared at his hands, frowning. His skin, his muscles and everything felt different. Too different actually. Standing up slowly, he whispered, "Okay… that is creepy. How the hell am I this aware of my body?"
Curious, he bent his knees and gave a light jump only to nearly smack his head on the ceiling. His eyes widened.
"Holy shit. My body feels so fucking light!"
Grinning despite himself, Jason immediately dropped to the floor and started working out with push-ups, squats, stretches, handstands. Movements that would've left him wrecked in his old life now flowed effortlessly.
By the time he hit three hundred push-ups, his arms barely burned. Sweat glistened on his skin, but his muscles still had alot of energy instead of fatigue.
Ecstatic, Jason laughed out loud. "This is insane! I'm a goddamn machine!"
Then
BRRRRRR
A deep mechanical rumble shook the box.
Jason froze.
"…Oh shit."
Jason pov
The lights flooded on, stabbing at my eyes after a week of sterile white nothingness. A heavy metallic click followed as the door unlocked and swung open. Two guards stepped inside, clad in those bulky black "football gear" suits. Both carried shock batons one lazily dangling, the other humming with blue sparks.
The second guy wasn't armed the same way; instead, he held a rectangular gray-and-silver box.
'About time,' I thought, suppressing a groan. As fun as it was testing out my new limits, being stuck in this bleach-smelling cube for a hours had been driving me up the wall. Too much silence. Too many thoughts. And way too much energy begging to punch something.
"Prisoner 92, face the wall."
I sighed and walked over, pressing my palms against the cold surface. "Care to explain what you guys are doing?" I asked, fully expecting nothing back.
"Quiet. Hold out your right arm."
I obeyed, stretching out my arm. They clamped the wristband on and damn it felt kind of itchy for a second.
The guards didn't care either way. They turned, and I followed them out the massive white-and-orange door. Noise hit me immediately.
Dozens of voices filled the air with confusion, panic, anger. Ninety-nine other kids, all freaking out in their own ways. Some were asking questions, some shouting at the guards, and a few idiots even tried resisting.
'Resist all you want, dumbasses. You'll all soon have a beautiful view compared to—'
My thought froze. My jaw went slack.
'ohhhhhh my goodness…'
Through a wide viewport, Earth gleamed below us. Blue, green, white swirls of clouds. It looked so Vibrant, alive and breathtaking. I had to force myself to breathe again.
Another sound drew my attention.
To my left, Clarke Griffin yep, the self-righteous do-gooder herself was clinging to her mother. For all of two seconds, anyway. A dart hissed, and she slumped in her mother's arms, tranquilized.
'Ok… that's cold,' I thought, watching her limp body carried past.
I was shoved forward with the herd, down a corridor and onto the dropship. The guards strapped us in like cargo, Clarke hauled in on a gurney and locked into the seat directly beside me.
When the guards exited, the dropship rumbled. Thrusters roared. My stomach flipped as we lurched forward.
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