I always wondered what followed death. Would it be a peerless, ink-black void—a place where sight fails and only your own voice remains? Or a vibrant garden of butterflies and blooming flowers, where the soul rests in eternal peace? Or perhaps, a desolate wasteland reeking of decay, where the only thing left to feel is an endless, sharp despair?
If you asked me, I'd say all of those are true. It simply depends on the person. The pious find their way to the garden's grace. The sinful are cast into the wasteland to endure.
But as for that dark, silent void? I never truly understood it. Whenever someone asked, I'd joke that it was a waiting room for those given a second chance at life.
I never expected that joke to be the truth that would change everything.
. . .
I checked my watch: 8:00 a.m. The bus hadn't arrived. It was my first day of university, but the expected spark of excitement never came. To me, it was just another morning.
I'm Park Maxwell, eighteen years old and a freshman at Axeford University. If I had to define myself, I'd start with Jerry—my black cat. He's a troublemaker and my best friend, someone I'd protect with my life.
Then there are my parents. They are loving but distant, consumed by their careers. My father runs a large corporation, and my mother is a government official.
We are well-off, but that wealth bought a quiet house. I grew up in the gaps of their schedules, learning the silent rhythm of chores and cooking for one. That solitude was a gift, in a way; it taught me a self-reliance that will last a lifetime.
"Hey, Park!"
A familiar voice broke the silence. I looked up to see James, my friend, walking toward me with his girlfriend, Amber.
"Hey, James." I stood from the bench, returning his dapp. "How's it going?"
"Life's good," James said, pulling Amber closer. "And with her, I think it'll stay that way." He wore a permanent, self-satisfied grin.
In high school, Amber was the untouchable beauty. She'd spent years turning down every confession that came her way, only to shock everyone by announcing she was dating James at the farewell party. Since then, James hadn't missed an opportunity to subtly taunt me about being single—a status I frankly didn't mind.
"Anyway," I said, ignoring his cheeky look. "Which university did you settle on?"
"Axeford," he replied, leaning into his girlfriend. "The same as my cutie. I can't exactly afford to be apart from her, can I?"
"I get it," I replied with a chuckle. On the inside, though, I felt a sudden urge to punch the drama king right out of him.
"What about you, Park?" James asked.
"Axeford, too," I answered. "It's the closest to home. I figured it'd be easier that way."
James and Amber both looked surprised. "Really?" James said. "With your remarkable grades, I thought for sure you'd be headed to Broomshire."
"Axeford is good enough." I shrugged, scanning the road. "Where is that bus, anyway?"
A car suddenly tore down the road, its engine roaring well over the speed limit.
"Shit—that car's going to hit the cat!" I yelled.
I didn't think. I threw my bag onto the bench and lunged toward the street, sprinting to reach the animal before the vehicle did.
"Wait, Park!"
James and Amber's voices trailed behind me, caught in a blur of shock as they tried to reach out and stop me. But I was already gone.
. . .
I tried to open my eyes, but I felt nothing. No light, no weight—just a heavy, absolute stillness. I realised then that I'd failed. I hadn't saved the cat, and my own life had been cut short. It was a fulfilling life, I suppose, if a brief one.
"A hero's effort," a voice drifted through the dark. It was a woman's voice—melodic, soothing, and strangely calm. "But heroes usually find the same end: death."
Fingers snapped. Suddenly, the world rushed back.
I was standing in a peerless, ink-black void. Before me stood a woman who defied description. She was tall and fair, with flowing blonde hair and piercing purple eyes. She had the silhouette of a goddess, draped in a sleeveless purple gown that flowed like liquid. Even in this empty space, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice echoing in the nothingness.
"Limbo," she explained with a playful tilt of her head. "The space between the Divine and Apostle worlds. You died, Park, but you've been chosen for reincarnation in a Divine World."
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Let me guess. A typical reincarnation ordeal?"
She laughed—a contagious, silver sound. "Not quite. You're headed to a world shaped by a story you already know."
"Dungeon-levelling? A harem? Some 'become the strongest' cliché?" I couldn't hide my irritation.
Her grin widened. "Actually, you're going to be the Final Boss of Forbidden Love Between Two Maidens. That was your favourite, wasn't it?"
Words couldn't describe how much that name ticked me off. I loathed that book with an indescribable passion. As far as I was concerned, that piece of fiction should never have existed in the first place.
To understand my hatred, you have to understand the story. Forbidden Love Between Two Maidens is a Yuri romance set in a matriarchal fantasy world where magic and technology coexist, but homosexuality is strictly prohibited. On the surface, it's a tale about overcoming societal boundaries for love.
But the reality is far more twisted. I'm not a fan of the Yaoi or Yuri genre in general, but the reason I hate it specifically is Sophia Von Crown, the girlfriend of the female lead, Seraphina Nightfallen.
Sophia is a homicidal maniac. She slaughters her own parents, Seraphina's parents, and even their closest friends just to isolate and possess her. Most disgusting of all, she repeatedly assaults Seraphina, using powerful memory-wiping spells to keep her victim oblivious.
"Do you intend to make me suffer in my second life?" I asked, my voice flat with exhaustion.
"Aw, come on. It isn't that bad," Masha chuckled. She sauntered over, her grin growing more playful by the second. "You're familiar with 'Systems,' right?"
With a snap of her fingers, a glowing interface flickered into existence beside her.
"This is the Streaming System," she explained. "You'll be broadcasting your little isekai adventure through this. Those chosen by the System are called Streaming Stars. Their only task? Ensure their streams are a massive hit."
"So, in simpler terms, I'm basically a Twitch streamer," I remarked, crossing my arms.
"Exactly. But with a twist." Masha's grin shifted, her eyes gleaming with a sudden, sharp malice. "You must become a top-tier Star. If you fail, the consequences are something even the Devil would avoid."
A cold chill crawled down my spine.
"As for me," she continued, her voice returning to a smooth, professional hum, "my name is Masha. I'm an Administrator. My job is to handle streams. That's all."
A faint, rhythmic chime echoed through the void. Masha glanced at her wristwatch. "It seems our time is up."
She leaned away, turning her back to me as she began to walk into the darkness. "You'll be reincarnated before the novel's main events. Use the head start wisely. Don't disappoint me."
She snapped her fingers one last time.
The void didn't just fade; it collapsed. An overwhelming pressure crushed the air from my lungs, and within heartbeats, the darkness swallowed me whole.
. . .
My head throbbed, the sharp pain forcing me awake. I squinted against the light, my hand immediately going to my temple as I scanned my surroundings. I was in a bedroom—no, a suite. It was the kind of room that belonged to royalty, every piece of furniture radiating an aura of polished, heavy luxury.
Then I noticed the scale of things. The bed felt vast; the ceiling, impossibly high. I looked down at my hands and realised I had the small, soft fingers of a child.
I reached for a hand mirror on the bedside table. Staring back at me was a much younger Amon Von Crown.
I had messy black hair and deep red eyes that still held a glimmer of childlike purity. My skin was fair, and I was dressed in a simple but expensive black shirt and trousers. The novel had always described Amon as a strikingly handsome man; it seemed the foundation was already there.
I set the mirror back down, my mind racing. If I remembered the lore correctly, this world operated on more than just magic and modern technology.
"Status Window," I whispered, testing the memory.
In response to my whisper, a flickering interface materialised in the air.
Name:Amon Von Crown
Age:8
Race:Human
Class:None
Magium Capacity:C-Rank
Magium Refinement:C-Rank
Abilities:
[Sinner's Desire] (Inherent Skill, SS-Rank)
"Sinner's Desire?" I stared at the text, a frown deepening on my small face.
According to my memory, Amon never possessed a unique skill. His backstory in the novel had always been frustratingly vague, leaving his descent into madness largely unexplained.
In the original plot, Amon served as the Final Boss for two primary reasons: his rigid adherence to the societal laws forbidding Seraphina and Sophia's union, and his sheer, unhinged insanity.
That second reason never quite sat right with me. It was the "why" behind his rise to power—how he acquired the forbidden magic used to commit his atrocities—but the source of that madness was never explored. In the end, his "evil" only led to a gruesome death at Sophia's hands.
I tapped the text for [Sinner's Desire]. Instantly, a second window overlaid the first, detailing the skill's terrifying nature.
[Sinner's Desire]: An inherent skill capable of manifesting any skill regardless of tier. It allows the user to reshape reality according to their will.
Warning: A single activation inflicts significant mental damage. Repeated use will result in the total collapse of the user's sanity.
The explanation hit me like a physical blow. "So that's it," I whispered, the realisation sinking in. "This is why Amon went insane."
I was still staring at the warning when a second interface flared into life.
Quest: Pass the Assessment Ceremony
Reward: Significant Change in the Novel's Plot
Penalty: Assassination
"What the hell?" I stared at the screen, my mind blanking for a second. "Is this some kind of joke?"
The words didn't flicker or fade. They stayed there, cold and absolute. The System was holding a blade to my throat. Why was the penalty for a simple quest so extreme?
A sharp, rhythmic knock rattled the door before I could even process the threat.
"Young Master, the Ceremony is about to begin! Madam requests your presence in the Drawing Hall immediately!" The voice was feminine and crisp, but laced with a clear sense of urgency.
"I—I'll be there in a moment! I just need the washroom!" I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Very well, Young Master. Please do not linger." The sound of retreating footsteps echoed down the hallway, leaving me in a deafening silence.
I slumped back against the bed. Great. I've been in this world for ten minutes, and I'm already fighting for my life. Aren't tutorials supposed to be the easy part…?