Ethan stared at his trembling hands; the blood dark and sticky under the faint glow of the fire.
"What's the big secret, huh?" he whispered hoarsely, turning the ID card over with a shaking thumb.
He forced himself to focus, though his vision blurred with tears and the bitter smoke that stung his eyes. There, written behind the plastic cover, were the last words of his friend.
Password: Coxinormus69. Please delete my browser history & destroy the SSD.
For a moment, Ethan forgot to breathe; a broken laugh escaped him, a sound too small to survive the air.
"That idiot… dragged me halfway across the globe to the middle-east saying, 'Camera guys never die,' and 'Cowboys never quit.'" He grumbled. "Guess even cowboys have to shut up when half their torso's gone."
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red across his cheek. The world smelled of burning metal and dust; the kind of smell that gave veterans PTSD.
From behind the wreck of the Stryker jeep, Ethan peered into the ruin beyond. Flames rose like ghosts through the smoke, licking the bones of the city. Somewhere far off, another rocket struck; its sound almost stopped his heartbeat.
"F**k it," he muttered under his breath. "Nearest bunker it is."
He looked at his friend one last time; then he ran.
The world blurred; shards of glass, twisted rebars , the thuds of his boots against the ground. For five endless minutes he ran, as though chased by his neighbours bull. When the dull silver door of the bunker came into view, his body almost gave out.
"Thank God," he gasped. "Didn't forget the way."
Relief hit, but so did the pain. It came creeping, sharp and cold; reminding him that adrenaline was only thing letting him move. His arms burned, his chest throbbed, and every breath tasted of iron.
He slowed down, moving step by step toward the door. Behind the thick glass, shadows moved, finally some alive people The sight steadied him for a heartbeat.
Then, a sound…soft, almost swallowed by the wind.
A whimper.
Ethan turned toward it and saw a small shape huddled beneath a fallen billboard. A German Shepherd pup, trembling. Its paw was pinned under a slab of metal.
"Hey… hey, easy," he murmured, crouching beside it. He lifted the debris inch by inch until the pup slipped free; and without a pause, it darted away into the ruins.
Ethan chuckled weakly. "Not even a thank you. Probably has a boyfriend."
Then the air changed; a high, thin whistle cut through the silence.
He froze. Turned.
Too late.
"F**king..."
Light consumed everything; heat bloomed, and then, nothing.
No pain. No sensation. Only darkness.
Ethan floated in a silence so vast it swallowed thought. He couldn't feel his hands, or his breath, or even the beat of his heart. It was neither peace nor torment; just… nothing.
The strangeness of it was almost beautiful. Time lost meaning; moments drifted by without number.
Then, somewhere far ahead, a flicker of light stirred; a small, pulsing glow, like a firefly caught in the dark.
He didn't know how, but he reached for it. Some part of him still wanted to move, toexist. Slowly, but steadily, he drifted toward that flicker.
Maybe it was hope.
Maybe madness.
Or maybe; just maybe; it was the start of something new.
"What would Hank do in this situation? Probably cry a river for not having a pp anymore."
Ethan chuckled in his thoughts. The joke shouldn't have been funny, but in the quiet blackness that followed death, laughter was the only thing keeping him sane. Thinking about his idiot friend grounded him, like clinging to a familiar anchor in an unfamiliar void.
The light ahead grew larger with every push of his will. It wasn't warm, nor cold; it simply was, expanding until it filled his vision.
"Holy shit…" he whispered.
The glow wasn't floating aimlessly. It streamed through the keyhole of an enormous door, so tall it seemed to scrape the heavens. Before Ethan could take it in, the pull intensified, and suddenly, the world tilted. He was drawn through the keyhole in a rush of white, like ink sucked into water.
When his senses returned, he was standing in a vast, echoing hall that looked stolen from an old cathedral. The air smelled faintly of salt and buttered corn. Light poured in through high windows, too bright to bear; he raised his hands to shield his eyes….then froze.
"Wait… hands?"
He turned them over slowly, flexing his fingers. His body was back. Whole and Unbroken. Even his clothes were clean, without a trace of former wear and tear.
Before he could make sense of it, movement caught his eye. At the far end of the room, someone lounged in a massive throne-like chair, half-lost in sunlight. For a heartbeat, Ethan thought he was looking at a divine being, the kind you only see in movies, surrounded by holy radiance and special effects.
But as his eyes adjusted, the illusion shattered.
The so-called deity was wearing beach shorts. And eating popcorn.
"Hank?" Ethan croaked.
Hank looked up, mid-crunch. "Yo! Why you here? Did you finish my super-secret hidden quest?"
Ethan blinked. "You… died. I think I did too! Forget your damn quest…what is this place? How are we even here?!"
"Relax, dude," Hank said, standing up and brushing stray kernels off his lap. "Who do you think I am? Actually, I've been lying to you this whole time."
Ethan groaned. "Oh, this ought to be good."
"I," Hank declared, placing a dramatic hand on Ethan's shoulder, "am a god. Not just any god, mind you … one from infinity and beyond. I took mortal form to be your friend because you were so lonely and pathetic that my divine heart could not bear the injustice."
Ethan stared at him flatly. "Is your chuunibyou flaring up again, or did death finally cook your brain?"
"I know you don't believe me," Hank said, grinning ear to ear, "so let me prove it. Since your death is technically my fault, I'll bless you with something exiting. Everything your otaku heart ever desired. I know how to summon waifus, dragons, MILFs you name it. You could even be the harem king…T&C you call me Daddy."
Ethan rubbed his eyebrows. "Oh, great God Hank of Infinite Dumbassery. Instead of waifus, why not give me giant mechas and laser sword to beat you with? Maybe throw in a functional brain for yourself while you're at it."
Hank scoffed. "Hmph. Just watch, you ungrateful mortal. Daddy's about to make miracles happen."
He ran over to a cluttered table in the corner, rummaging through a mess of bizarre objects, glowing orbs, tangled wires, a rubber chicken, and something that looked suspiciously like a PlayStation controller. "Let's see… the old guy pressed this button, waved this stick, said a few mystical words; uh 'abracadabra' or something like that."
Ethan folded his arms. "What are you even doing? And who the hell is this old man you're talking about?"
"No one. Here, dude, I'm ready. In fact, I'll do you one better." Hank grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Didn't you always want to build something like Iron Man's Armor? I'll upload all the knowledge you'll ever need…straight to your soul. Efficient, right? Now, stand in the middle of that circle and let Daddy work his magic. Go on, go! What are you afraid of, you already dead"
Before Ethan could protest, Hank shoved him toward a massive geometric symbol etched into the floor. It pulsed faintly under the light, like something alive. Ethan froze mid-step.
"This looks suspiciously like a demon summoning circle," he muttered.
But Hank was already too busy to hear him. He grabbed the wand-like stick from the table and began mashing buttons on the control panel in what could only be described as enthusiastic guesswork.
A soft hum filled the room. Slowly, the pattern beneath Ethan's feet began to glow with an eerie blue light. Then came the wind, first a small breeze, then a rising gale that stirred his clothes and hair.
"Whoa! What is this, an LED show?" Ethan shouted over the noise. "And where's the wind even coming from? I don't see any vents!"
Dropping to his knees, he ran his fingers over the design, searching for hidden slits or gaps. Nothing. The floor was smooth, seamless. Maybe it used some kind of clever airflow trick?
He looked up. Hank was grinning like a mad scientist discovering caffeine for the first time.
"Hey, Great Lord of Tomfoolery! You done yet? Forget waifus, I don't even see a big mom around here!"
"Stop talking!" Hank barked, waving his wand. "Red, then purple, swirl it like this; yes! Ha! Wait for the miracle, you NEET! Call me Daddy Hank!"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, this'll definitely end well."
But then, the ground trembled.
A strange force tugged at his feet. Not a gust or vibration, but a pull, deep and invisible, like gravity itself was focusing on him.
"Uh, Hank? Why does it feel like someone cranked up the gravity? Or am I hallucinating from the lights? Oh no, my head, why does it feel like it's… expanding?"
The pull intensified until Ethan dropped to all fours, gasping for balance. His head felt huge, ballooning grotesquely as if the universe had decided to inflate it for fun.
"WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME?" he yelled. "YOU THINK I'M SOME KIND OF ALIEN THAT CAN CHANGE HAIR COLOR? STOP BEFORE I DIE FROM HEAD EXPLOSION! Wait, can I even die anymore?"
Hank, meanwhile, was in full panic mode, drenched in sweat.
"Come on, come on! I did everything right! My memory's perfect...I followed all the steps that old guy taught me! So why is it turning into a gravity chamber instead of summoning catgirl body pillows like it did for me?!"
A deafening crack split the air. The enormous door at the far end slammed open with a thunderous boom.
From the light beyond stepped a man with Western features draped in what looked like a toga and a Hanfu had a confused baby. His white hair and beard flowed like silk caught in the wind.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU IDIOT?" the old man thundered, appearing beside Hank in an instant. He snatched the wand from his trembling hands.
"I told you to wait until I finished my research on those catgirl body pillows! Why must you always meddle with things you can't comprehend?" His eyes fell on Ethan…who was halfway transparent now, his limbs flickering like static. The old man sighed, deeply, as if this wasn't the first interdimensional blunder of the week.
"I was going to send you to Heaven," he said calmly, "but it seems my new friend here has… interfered. You're being reverse-summoned to another world. But.."
"But what?!" Ethan shouted. His feet were already dissolving into motes of light, his vision warping. "Stop playing mysterious old man, just tell me what's happening!"
The last thing he saw was Hank and the old man shrinking into silhouettes, their voices muffled by distance…or maybe by reality itself.
Then came the pull, the collapse, the silence.
With one final plop, Ethan's world went dark.
...
"...Well, at least I gave him all the physics, chemistry, and mechanical knowledge" Hank muttered, wiping the sweat off his brow. "He won't be a helpless noob, right?"
The old man, Donn, rubbed his temples and sighed like a disappointed teacher. "Boy, I doubt that knowledge will help much. You sent him into a magic-based world. Magic…something that breaks every law of logic. Sure, for a caveman, technology might seem like sorcery, but that's not the point."
He turned, giving Hank a somberg look. "Since your friend went as a soul, he'll have to start over… as a toddler or a yin ghost. And that knowledge you force-fed him? It's enough to make a grown man's brain implode."
"Oh no." Hank froze for a second, then shrugged, smirking. "Guess we'll be seeing him again soon, huh? What a pity." He clasped his hands dramatically. "May his soul respawn safely."
"That won't be necessary, you idiot," Donn replied, clearly fighting the urge to strangle him. "I managed to seal the knowledge and turn it into a self-regulating, host-friendly system. It'll release information gradually, help him adapt to the new world."
Hank blinked. "Wow. You're really something, old man. Alright then, back to our research?"
"Of course,"Donn said, his irritation already melting into curiosity. "You humans have created fascinating things since I last woke up. Tell me again about that 'Rule something 3 or 4' you mentioned earlier?"
Hank froze. "Heh… old man, I never said anything like that."
"You sure?" John tilted his head. "I distinctly remember you explaining it in detail, something about infinite variations.."
"NOPE. Must've been someone else," Hank interrupted, turning sharply toward the table.
And just like that, the two of them dove back into their "scientific research," as if Ethan never existed at all…