I open my eyes, shock springing me upwards to a sitting position. My ears screaming on high alert, and my vision whipping around to take in my surroundings.
Nothing.
There is absolutely nothing.
Noting that I can see, nothing that I can hear, nothing that I can feel.
Truly, nothing. Devoid of anything, the absence of everything, just an empty void of nothing.
Not quite nothing, in truth. I’m here, at least I think I am. I can’t exactly feel anything, and my seeming lack of eyes doesn't exactly help me with figuring out what my physical state is.
It must be some sort of limbo state while I’m recovering. In a hospital somewhere unable to move. Last thing I remember was my house falling apart on top of me, so I must have been found and then moved somewhere. Right…?
Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to think because I’d be dead. I’d just cease to be, right?
There’s no way to know what death is like, or at least what comes after. There had been plenty of studies that looked into it, there are religions that said they knew what comes after. But it’s not exactly like you could die and then come back to tell people.
So… this could be what death is. Still conscious yet indisputably dead, but if that was the case, for how long? Do you just drift around in this unchanging forever space? Forever?
Do I just… exist?
I mean, I don’t have anything better to do, I seemingly have all the time in the world. I could just be in a coma and will wake up at some point… yeah, that's probably it.
Even better, I could just be on really strong painkillers, hence why I can’t feel. I wouldn’t be surprised if I injured my eyes during all that, so it’s not impossible.
Thoughts like these spiralled around in my mind, some more negative than others, some more optimistic. But the ultimate feeling I had during all this, secretly yet patiently waiting, was a smaaaaaal ember of anger.
Maybe not completely anger, but more indignance. Disbelief that I might have died, a sliver of hope mixed in there. I never really was one to care about much. Sure I loved my family, I had good memories of my friends. I just in the end was kinda indifferent to everything.
Things happen, but that's it. I thought and wondered for a while, how long? I don’t know. I do know however that I wasn’t for a short time
Before abruptly, I’m pulled from my thoughts by a new feeling. One pulled up from the dredges of my mind that I had harboured briefly at the start. An unparalleled feeling of hope and relief.
Basking in the feeling, I realise something that haunted, confused and intrigued me all at once. It wasn’t my own, it was a fake emotion, as if it was implanted in me by something else.
“To awaken, even after all that, those years of nothing… how much you must have suffered.”
Now, what do you think you would feel after hearing an impossible indescribable voice that seemed to both come from everywhere and only your mind after seemingly having no contact with nothing but yourself for a time uncountable?
In case you were wondering, that wasn’t a question, it was a statement. A statement that I now had to try and comprehend. And comprehend I did not. I mean really? What are you supposed to do?
If you believe in a religion you might think it was god, but I am very much not a theist. Mind you, I’m not an atheist either, I’m that one in the middle that nobody can remember what it’s called.
I don’t believe in god’s, but I accept and believe that there's a decent chance that they exist somewhere out there.
Still being overwhelmed by that isolated feeling of hope, a whisper at the back of my head says that it was a doctor or someone else who was looking over me while in a coma. Curious, I try to react in some way by moving.
And so, I try to move, and I do. A hand, an arm, a shoulder, a neck, a head, freed from that strange nothing.
I open my eyes, and before me lies an infinite plain, not like that before, but clear and calm. Confused, I try to move forward. Yet even though I now have legs, I can’t move from where I am.
Now thoroughly in the realm of ‘what the fuck is going on,’ I look around wondering who, or what it is that I heard. I look down, and see my hand, a mist, incorporeal. Greyed and wavering, yet hints of a dark red escape. I wonder if what I see is me, “***-” I try to speak, but I say nothing. A silent question, I wonder ‘why? Was I not dead?’
“You seem troubled, allow me to alleviate your pain.” the voice again, who is it? I feel an invisible force pulling upwards, but it doesn't affect me. I feel something buried in my very soul move, an emotion. Or that lack thereof “Why do you resist? Why do you harbour your pain so deep in your soul?” it asks, yet I can’t answer as I have no voice.
So I thought, ‘you dare to try and take what makes my very being, and you question why I resist?’ Anger, it’s a feeling I’m well acquainted with. Though in far milder forms then what I felt at the moment. It was as if someone insulted my entire family and then was confused why I didn’t like it.
The pristine clear white, the calm that resided there, shakes. Cracks shimmer into existence, breaking the nothing that surrounded me. I feel an emotion of surprise, but not my own, the emotion exuding from the infinite that surrounded me, its very being.
“You hold such malice so that you have reason? Why?” the voice, questioning my actions asks.
Now it was my turn to be confused again. Both because of the anger I felt before, and the words I ‘spoke’. I genuinely don’t know what compelled me to say that. It did feel like something vital to me was being forcefully pried away from me, but it wasn’t my understanding of anger that was being affected.
So why did the voice address it as malice? This is also pretty much entirely glossing over the fact that I just said and felt things that I would never have said or felt.
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The force chipping away at me stops, and before me appears a person. A body that wasn’t there, yet was visible. With nothing to call it human but its shape. It watches in silent amusement, “you are a strange one, I have yet to see something quite like you.” the force says, reaching out to hold me.
Still very much confused and equally wary, I try to back away only to be stopped by that same invisible force from before. It cups its hands around my face, holding me there as if to comfort me.
Before me begins to form a proper body, flesh blood and bone melding together to build something more than that weird metaphysical form it had before, taking on a proper appearance. I see no trace of anything particular, before the appearance seems to click into place, only to resemble my mother.
“I wish for you to feel kindness, not the emptiness that you so desperately cling to.” it backs away, looking at me as if it expected an answer.
‘My mother has been dead for years, and you expect me to feel something when I see her body?’ I say, dropping the act I had developed over the years of my life. A deadpan face, with no expression.
Before, I said that I didn’t really have any issues when it came to who I was. That was a half lie, because at the time of writing in the diary it was true. Before then however…
That coupled with an insurmountable amount of time spent in limitless nothing of a void and the saying ‘old habits die hard’ begins to have a lot of merit.
The being waited for a mear moment more before sighing in defeat. It waved its hand at me, almost as if to push something away. A formless wind passes over me, freeing me completely from the weight that covered my body. A new heft covers me, as if a blanket draped over my skin.
Wait, skin? I look down, and seeing my body back I gaze blankly at my hand, inspecting it. “I did not wish to see your soul for so long, so I have returned your old body to you but momentarily.” The being watches me, as if waiting.
I finish inspecting my hand, and look up at her, “Why am I here?” I ask, half expecting my voice to still be gone. The being looks at me with a slight smile for a moment longer, before saying “You may have realised, but you are dead. You died in your home due to a landslide at the age of 36, named Eric Tremblay, 6’1, you worked as a fisherman.”
I look at the being, thinking they may be some sort of god. Almost like that reincarnation book Martin lent me…
Wait a minute…
The being seems to make some semblance of an understanding nod “you are correct, your planet's country of Japan called it isekai, others that spoke your language call it reincarnation. A random soul, taken from their life too early, to be reincarnated to another world.”
I stop to think for a moment, ‘I highly doubt it's something as simple and corny as that. Even if it was just a chance, this feels almost scripted…’ being broken from my thoughts, the being picks up again, “While I am the god that oversees this, I also think that it's a bit ‘corny’. But it is my designation, so I don’t have too much of a choice. Not that I dislike doing it.”
Fully realising the god can hear or at least read my thoughts, I decide to be straight forward. “Seeing as you haven’t sent me directly to some random world, I assume there is something more to this, no?” I ask.
“There is, seeing as you were robbed of your life by an accident, I will grant you a strength. Though I can’t tell you exactly what it is you shall receive, I can say that it will be something that either suits your personality, or something you subconsciously desire.”
Taking a moment to wonder about what I may receive, I can’t help but think that there had to be something more to this, “From the book I read, I assume that I will be summoned to this other world to be a hero for some country. Or is this simply a medium before I’m thrown somewhere truly random?” I ask. A part of my still sceptical things were as it seemed at a first glance.
“That is correct with your first assumption.” the god says, “You will be summoned along with a handful of other people who suffered a death too soon.”
‘This really is corny no matter how I look at it. I wonder if…’ The god speaks up, finishing my thought for me, “Yes, I shall bestow a unique item or skill to you. So that people who end up getting similar skills to each other will still be unique.”
101 ways to be unoriginal apparently. “I see, though I do still have a question.” I say, “You may ask three questions before you are sent to your new world” the god remarks.
‘What should I ask? Asking about the powers I will receive would be a good idea, but knowing about the world I will be sent to is more important…’ Taking a moment to decide on what I would ask, I set my mind on the three questions I would ask.
“I’m ready.” I say.
“Wonderful, you may ask your questions now”
“First, what is the place I will be sent to. Second, will all the people who are being summoned be from Earth. And lastly, what happens if I die in this world?”
“Interesting questions. The answer to your first question, the place you shall be sent to is called Reldrav, a shattered realm consisting of several different plains, of which I will not tell you of.The second, Yes. Although there are other places from which souls have been plucked from over the millenia, the people you are joining are all from your world. As for the last…” Its expression grows dim, the surroundings seeming to darken slightly, lasting for but a second before its expression changes back to a slight smile, with the area around it responding the same way, “You shall be given no other chances, and be lost to time.”
Taking in what she said, I stand in silence, lost in thought. “Although… If your achievements are enough, and you are granted audience with the rest of the gods, you can ask to be reincarnated again, or for anything else you may wish. Be warned though, that not all can be granted, and some requests may anger the gods.” it says.
Understanding that after death, there is no third life, I take a breath to consider what I should do once I arrive in this new realm.
“It would seem the time has come.” I look up, realising that it meant it was time to be sent to the new world, I brace myself for what I could only consider as an opportunity.
“I wish you the best in your new world warrior, may the child of burden not come to fruition.”
Catching the last part of what she says, I get hit by an ill feeling. “What do you mean by child of bu-” Getting cut off mid sentence, I feel that weighted warmth again, as my senses are torn away from me.
Moments pass, before I feel a cool breeze, and the sensation of mist rolling across my skin. Opening my eyes, I see a crowd of people surrounding me, all wearing a simple brown robe. Similar to what a monk might wear.
As people start to look around and talk, I notice three people not far away from us, one wearing what seemed to be a priest-like attire, another wearing near full ceremonial plate armour, and the last wearing semi-casual clothes in dark colours and a near black cloak.
Thinking that those three must be original inhabitants of this place, I realise that the man wearing the dark cloak was looking at me, with a mix of surprise, hope, and relief.
Confused as to his behaviour, I send him a glance that asked if there was something wrong. ‘I wonder if it's better that someone from this place has an interest in me, or if it's going to end up being troublesome.’
He shakes his head, while wearing a slight smile. I then hear the person in priest attire speak.