Chapter 1: The Sea That Counted Me
Death wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't fair either.
There was no warning that mattered just the wrong place, the wrong second, metal screaming like it was alive, and a pressure in my chest that didn't feel like pain so much as finality. Like something had decided I was done and didn't feel the need to ask.
Then nothing.
No darkness. No tunnel. No reunion montage.
Just… awareness.
Not waking up. Not floating. Just being there, without a body to check or lungs to panic with. Thought came first. Confusion followed. Fear lagged behind like it was stuck in traffic.
Around me stretched something vast.
At first I thought it was water. The way it moved slow, heavy, layered felt like an ocean. But it didn't press against me. It didn't chill or drag.
It glowed.
Light, everywhere. Not blinding, not warm. Just present. Like the universe had taken a deep breath and was holding it.
Tiny points drifted past me. Thousands. Millions. Each one pulsing faintly, never in sync. Some burned bright enough to sting my eyes. Others were barely there, fading as they went.
I didn't know what they were.
I just knew.
Souls.
The thought didn't hit like a revelation. It landed like a receipt sliding across a counter.
So. That's it then.
I waited for panic.
It didn't come.
That bothered me.
Maybe I was still in shock. Maybe this place sanded emotions down until they couldn't cut anymore. Or maybe part of me had already accepted things long before the impact ever happened.
Memories started surfacing, uninvited.
My room. Dark except for my phone screen. Three in the morning, thumb hovering because I knew I should sleep but I still checked.
Dragon Rise of Berk.
Timers done. Collections aligned. One event calculated down to the discount window.
Runes counted.
Always counted.
I remembered staring at my roster, scrolling slowly, feeling that stupid, quiet pride. Almost finished. Not everything but close enough that every missing dragon felt loud.
Six. Maybe seven.
I hadn't rushed. I hadn't paid my way through mistakes. I waited for discounts. Planned ascensions weeks ahead. Passed on temptations that would've set me back later.
It wasn't luck.
It was effort.
The memory made my chest ache in a way I didn't have a chest to feel with.
I smiled anyway.
Then—
"So you finally noticed."
The voice didn't come from anywhere. It came through everything.
The sea rippled, light bending inward as if reality itself had flinched.
I turned more instinct than movement.
The light parted.
Something stepped forward.
Calling it a person felt dishonest, but my brain needed the shortcut. It had arms. Legs. A face that refused to stay the same for longer than a heartbeat. Colors slid across it like oil on water, never settling.
It stretched like someone killing time.
"You're late," it said. "Most people freak out sooner."
"…Who are you?" I asked.
My voice felt strange.
The thing squinted at me, considering.
"Depends who's asking." It shrugged. "God, if that helps. Overseer, if it doesn't. Cosmic mistake, on bad days."
It smiled—but the smile didn't quite line up with its eyes.
"I just watch things."
That made my stomach twist.
"Am I dead?" I asked.
It winced. Actually winced.
"Yeah. Sorry."
"…Sorry?"
"Timing issue," it said quickly. "Universe hiccuped. You were collateral."
That angered me more than if it had been cruel.
"So this is the afterlife?"
"Nope." It kicked at nothing. "This is the waiting area. Loading screen. Recycling bin, depending how poetic you feel."
I stared at it. "So I just… end?"
It hesitated.
That was new.
"Usually? Yeah."
Usually.
The word stuck.
"You're different," it said slowly. "Not special. Don't get excited. Just… interesting."
I folded my arms out of reflex. "Because?"
"Because you don't chase power." It waved a hand, and the sea responded.
Images formed.
Skies. Dragons. A boy on a Night Fury's back, laughter tearing out of his chest as clouds rushed past. Berk burning. Toothless chained, snarling, refusing to bow even when hurt.
Then—
An interface.
My interface.
Dragon Rise of Berk. My account. Dragons lined up in neat rows. Resources balanced like a ledger. Buildings finished. Ascensions planned, not rushed.
Almost complete.
"You didn't treat it like a game," the being said. "You treated it like something earned."
"I worked for it," I said.
"I know."
That was worse than praise.
Silence settled between us.
Then it clapped its hands, sharp and loud.
"Alright. I'm bored, and you're dead. Let's make this simple."
I tensed.
"I'll give you one wish," it said. "No trick wording. No monkey paw. I don't care enough for that."
Every instinct screamed don't.
"What if I say no?" I asked.
It shrugged. "You fade. No pain. No awareness. Just done."
"And if I say yes?"
"Then you get a mess."
I closed my eyes.
Power crossed my mind. Control. A redo. All the obvious things.
None of them felt right.
Instead, I saw Toothless not as a weapon. Not as a tool.
As a companion.
"I don't want power," I said. "And I don't want unearned advantages handed to me."
The being leaned forward.
"I want what I already worked for," I continued. "Everything I built. Every dragon I earned for."
It froze.
"…Say that again."
"My Dragon Rise of Berk account," I said. "Not numbers. Not cheats. As a world."
The sea went still.
Then it laughed short, sharp, genuinely surprised.
"You're almost done," it said. "People usually beg for shortcuts when they're that close."
"I didn't want shortcuts," I said quietly. "I wanted to finish."
It snapped its fingers.
Berk formed in the light.
"You'll be reborn as Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third," it said casually.
My breath hitched.
"And your account?" it continued. "Bound to your soul."
Hope surged—
"Locked," it added. "Don't look at me like that."
"What unlocks it?" I asked.
The being smiled, slow and sharp.
"Toothless. The real one. When he chooses you."
"Chooses," I repeated.
"Nothing obeys you," it said. "Not dragons. Not destiny. Not the world."
"…Good."
It tilted its head. "You keep your memories."
That terrified me more than anything else.
"Why?" I asked.
It thought for a moment.
"Because watching someone fail honestly is better than watching them win easily."
Light collapsed inward.
Gravity returned like a punch.
"Good luck, Hiccup," the voice echoed. "And don't rush it this time."
---
Cold air tore into my lungs.
Wood dug into my spine. Smoke and salt filled my nose. My body felt wrong—too light, too thin.
I sat up, dizzy.
Hands. Scarred. Not mine.
"No…" I whispered.
A shadow fell over me.
"Hiccup!"
I looked up.
Stoick the Vast.
This wasn't a game.
This wasn't fiction.
This was Berk.
And somewhere above, cutting through the clouds—
A Night Fury flew free.
I swallowed.
Almost finished, I thought.
And now everything actually matters.
---
End of Chapter 1