Well shit.
Gyeong In's knuckles were white as he gripped the bedsheets. A brutal cough wracked his frame, a guttural, wet sound that tore from his chest. He tasted copper and iron. His vision swam, the sterile white walls of the hospital room blurring into a meaningless haze.
Gyeong pushed himself upright, the thin blanket pooling around his waist. His legs trembled as he swung them over the side of the bed. The floor was cold against his bare feet. He took a step, then another, dragging his heavy body toward the window.
His lungs burned. Another cough tore through him violently. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders hunching. When he pulled his hand away, a splash of bloodstained his pale palm. He stared at the blood. It wasn't a first, but he sure hoped it would be the last.
A wet, gurgling noise escaped his throat as he whispered, "Is it finally over?" His words were swallowed by a fresh wave of crimson. His stomach heaved violently, spewing a torrent of blood that splattered across the pristine white floor and his own trembling hands.
Gyeong gagged, choking on the red flood. His pleas for help died before they could form, replaced by a sickening cough that sprayed more red onto his chin. He wanted to scream for a nurse, to hit the call button, but his body had turned against him completely.
His hands slapped against the cold tiles, barely breaking his fall before he crumpled completely. A rattling gasp filled the quiet room, his chest heaving with a final, desperate attempt to draw air that wouldn't come.
So this is it, he thought, a strange calm washing over him. His cheek pressed against the floor, the metallic tang of his own life pooling beneath him. He had no grand memories to cling to, no tearful farewells.
Edges of his vision darkened, shrinking the room to a pinprick of light. He felt a strange sensation, a tingling at the base of his skull. It was a warmth that had nothing to do with the blood he was losing.
The darkness did not claim him. Gyeong blinked, his lungs suddenly clear, his body no longer wracked with pain. He stood on a surface of pure, polished glass that stretched into infinity. Below his feet, a swirling nebula of stars and cosmic dust churned, its light the only source of illumination. There was no sound, only the profound silence of a vacuum.
Directly before him, a blue holographic window hovered in the non-existent air. Crisp, luminous characters glowed upon its surface.
[Welcome.]
Oh hell no…
Gyeong In squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms hard against his face to block out the impossible sight. "Nope. Not doing this bullshit," he muttered, his voice echoing in the void. "I just died. And I wish to preserve this status!"
His words hung in the stillness, unanswered.
The blue window remained still. Below it, the cosmic swirl in the floor had intensified, a vortex of light drawing his focus. A single line of new text had appeared. He moved his fingers slightly.
[This is rather… unusual. You appear to already have an idea of what I am about to present. Is that correct?]
"Yes, Yes. The whole reincarnation thing. I don't want it."
[So my deduction was correct. You possess prior knowledge of my offer. How did you acquire it?]
"Because what else could it be?" Gyeong shot back. "Just look at you. All system-like. All dramatic. Next you'll say you're going to reincarnate me into a world full of magic and monsters, then hand me some broken ability that makes me special."
Gyeong placed his hands over his chest. "If I'm being honest, I'm fairly satisfied with how I died. It wasn't exactly glorious, but it suited me well, considering my rather specific lifestyle. Now, if you don't mind, I'll take entry into heaven, or whatever form of afterlife happens to be available."
[Your soul does not qualify for the afterlife.]
Gyeong's jaw went slack. "What do you mean?!" he demanded, his voice cracking through the silence. "I was a model citizen! I paid my taxes. Well, mostly… But it's a bit much to expect a hospitalized nineteen-year-old to pay that much anyway. But I played by the rules! I never killed anyone… Not directly. I died in a hospital bed, after already spending years stuck in it. By all reasonable standards, my life was miserable! That has to count for something, doesn't it?!"
Please let that be enough guilt.
[The judgment is final. You are denied entry.]
"Denied entry?" he repeated, disbelief warring with a rising tide of panic. "You can't just say that and not give a reason!"
[Reasons are not required for the verdict. A verdict is all that is provided.]
Gyeong ran a hand through his hair.
"So what happens now?" he asked, his voice coming out smaller than he intended.
[A new destination is required.]
"We are not doing that!"
[The alternative is to spend your eternity here.]
"Oh. Well. Yeah. I've always wanted to explore a fantasy land. Have I mentioned that?" He straightened, forcing a smirk onto his face. "I'm ready to be reincarnated."
[State your final questions. This is your last opportunity.]
Gyeong swallowed, the lump in his throat feeling like a stone. He couldn't afford to mess this up. "Right. Questions." He paced a tight circle on the glass floor, his footsteps echoing faintly. "First, you. You're the one sending me? You're coming with me? You'll be right here, for the whole ride?"
A single, stark line of text appeared.
[Affirmative. My presence is a fixed condition of the transmigration.]
Gyeong winced. "Great… I didn't mean literally, it was… well, sarcasm." He stopped pacing, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. Whatever. Let's skip the formalities. What's my ability? what am I getting?"
The blue light of the window pulsed for a moment before the text shifted.
[Skill Granted: Rebirth.]
Gyeong stared at the single word. He blinked, expecting more. "Rebirth?" A cold feeling settled in his gut. "That… sounds rather grim. Is it the loop kind… or something else? 'Cause if I'm being honest, time loops are great to watch, but I'm not built for it."
The system didn't elaborate.
Great conversation.
[10.]
[9.] Gyeong's eyes widened. "Hey… wait! That's it?" He scrambled instinctively, but his feet found no purchase on the glass.
[8.]
[7.] A crushing pressure seized his skull, as if his mind were being forced through a pinhole.
[6.] "I know… I was skeptical about this whole reincarnation thing, but… listen. I've read stuff, and I realized I'm not really built for this. So… I'd like a longer discussion… where I can slowly figure out where I'm going."
[5.]
[4.] His sense of self began to fray at the edges, memories and thoughts fragmenting into static.
[3.] "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier! Can we… talk… a bit… longer?" His final, desperate plea was swallowed by the rising hum.
[2.] Consciousness fractured completely, shattering into a million fading pieces.
[1.] The world dissolved into a single, silent flash of absolute brightness. His mind went blank.
Gyeong In's lungs burned, a phantom agony echoing his final moments in the hospital. He blinked, vision swimming as it adjusted to the rather dim light seeping through a grimy window. Rough wooden floorboards pressed against his cheek. The air was stale, heavy with dust and the faint, sour trace of old sweat.
With a groan, he pushed himself up, his palms scraping against splintered wood. His neck throbbed, the skin raw. Frowning, he reached up. His fingers brushed against coarse, twisted fibers.
A rope.
It hung loose around his neck, the frayed end lying limply on the floor beside him. His gaze followed it upward. A shattered bracket dangled from a ceiling beam, the anchor torn clean free.
He hadn't just wanted to die. He had succeeded.
This body had actually gone through with it.
That's rather dark…
Gyeong lurched to his feet, his center of gravity completely wrong. This body was heavy. Heavier than he'd ever been. A thick, unmistakable layer of fat weighed him down, his belly straining against the fabric of his tunic. He waddled forward, knees brushing together with every step, toward a cracked mirror hanging crookedly on the wall.
He froze.
The face staring back at him was not his.
It was pale and pudgy, cheeks swollen, the jawline all but erased. And the hair… a shock of bright, wheat-gold blond, falling in messy waves around his face. Even disheveled, it was the kind of look that screamed nobility.
The clothes only confirmed it. Expensive fabric, soft and dark, tailored carefully to accommodate his size. Fine silver thread embroidered the collar. Or it had been fine, before a wide, greasy stain smeared down the center of his chest. The fabric carried the faint smell of old wine and something rich, savory.
Gyeong In stared at the fat face in the mirror as a deep, bone-weary exhaustion settled over him. He'd died frail and sickly, trapped in a failing body… only to be reborn into this. A portly, golden-haired noble who had apparently decided that a rope was preferable to another day of living.
Fine…
It is what it is.
If I have to… I'll make the most of it.