The low levels of oxygen in the air are starting to take their toll. I can feel each breath become harder to draw in, as though the very air around me is thickening, choking the life out of me bit by bit. My helmet’s lights flicker faintly, casting weak shadows across the jagged rock walls that surround me. My mind races—how much battery does my helmet have left? I can’t remember when I checked it last.

The walls are so close, my ribs are pressed against them, every shallow breath causing a dull, aching pressure in my chest. I’m wedged between two sheer rock faces, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. I try to shift, but my limbs feel as if they’re bound in iron. The rocks have become my cage. My back is sore, and every time I try to push, I feel the stones press harder, threatening to crush me further.

The oppressive silence of the cave is almost as suffocating as the physical weight on my body. The cold is starting to seep into my bones, adding another layer of discomfort to my already aching form. There’s no sound of water dripping, no distant growl of monsters. This cave is not connected to the dungeon, thank the gods. At least here, it’s just me and the rocks. But the isolation... the silence... It's unnerving.

Six hours, maybe more. My mind feels like it’s unraveling with each passing minute. The dizziness is growing stronger, blurring my vision, twisting my thoughts. How long has it been since I fell here? I can’t remember the exact moment. I think I was exploring… and. The next thing I knew, the ground beneath me gave way, and I was falling, falling into this suffocating hole. How did this happen?

Breathe slowly…

Keep breathing…

But slow… save your energies.

I only have one regret.

“Dad.. I told you it was a bad idea to be a coal miner…”

I whisper my last words before closing my eyes.

“ I can’t sleep…”

I am starting to forget. It’s better to remember—each step, each breath, each moment that led me here. Either way, is this what they mean when they say your life flashes before your eyes at the end of your path? A jumble of memories, disconnected and fleeting? Well, it’s better to remember. To hold onto something, anything, as the darkness closes in.

It started like this...

Day Zero:

My gaming headset is still on, and a half-eaten bowl of instant noodles by my side. The monitor had been flashing "Game Over" for hours.

I wasn’t some tragic figure. I wasn’t selfless, hardworking, or particularly noble. Just a guy coasting through life. Work was too hard. School was boring. Video games were my escape, and I’d mastered the art of doing as little as humanly possible.

Turns out, even sloth catches up with you.

“Cause of death: heart failure,” the voice echoed, cold and unfeeling.

Wait—what? Heart failure? I blinked, expecting to wake up in my messy room. Instead, I found myself floating in a gray void, weightless and cold.

Is this even a valid death? Seriously? I was still young and—well, healthy might be pushing it, but…

“Young, yes. But you barely used your body at all. Unless you count video games and… jerking off.”

“Wait—hold up! How do you even know that?” I snapped, realizing something horrifying. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t feel my body. No eyes, no ears. Yet, I could hear this voice perfectly.

“Oh, I know everything,” the voice continued, dripping with robotic smugness. “Every little detail about your pathetic existence. Believe me, I could go on for hours about what a loser you were.”

I clenched my nonexistent fists, obviously as a metaphor “Fine. Just tell me why I’m here!”

“Oh, that’s easy! You’ve been chosen. Let’s just say I pulled a lottery ticket, and your name happened to be on it.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Ah, right, my bad. You’ll be reincarnated. You know, into what you mortals like to call… an isekai.”

Isekai? No way. I’d watched a ton of anime about that. Is this for real? My death really led me to the dream scenario?

“YES!” I shouted, my non-voice echoing in the void. “Finally, I can unleash my perfect gamer skills! I’ll gather a harem of precious waifus and—”

“Wow. Just wow. I already knew your life was pathetic, but hearing this out loud…” the voice sighed. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just stay dead? Because you’re going to die again—fast—at this rate.”

“What the hell?! You dragged me here already!”

“Fine, fine,” the voice grumbled. “I don’t like wasting time anyway.”

“Then let’s not waste it!” I declared. “Make me the hero!”

“Yeah, about that.” There was a long pause. Too long. “The hero position is already occupied.”

“What?! Then why did you even bring me here if I can’t be the hero?”

“Because even as a total loser, you’ve got… potential.”

That stung more than it should’ve. “What potential?”

“Look, based on countless scenarios I’ve simulated—despite the odds being astronomically low—there is a non-zero chance that no matter what role I assign you, you might somehow defeat the demon lord.”

"The demon lord... So, that's it, huh?" I muttered. "That's why you brought me here? The ultimate objective?"

The voice chuckled, a strange mix of robotic monotone and condescension. "Oh, not just you. I’ve brought many others. So where was I? ahh.. I remember, if you defeat the demon lord, you will be granted a wish."

"A wish?" My nonexistent ears perked up. "Like... anything I want?"

"Exactly. Anything your little mind desires. You could wish to return home with a billion dollars, reincarnate as the most handsome man in history, or… whatever else you pathetic existence dreams of."

A wish. My mind raced. This was the jackpot! I could start fresh, live the dream life!

"Alright," I declared, "then let's stop wasting time. If I can't be the hero, just give me the most broken skill ever. Something OP. Let’s get this over with."

The voice sighed dramatically, as if dealing with an unruly child. "I can't just hand out 'skills.' What I can do is assign you to a category. Your job, if you will."

I blinked—or imagined I did. "A job? Why the hell would I need a job when I could just become an adventurer?"

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Adventurer is a broad word, kid. You can't just say 'adventurer' and expect the world to do the rest. Now, if you'll let me finish..."

"Fine, go ahead," I grumbled, crossing my imaginary arms.

"Let’s see... Processing your position now..." There was a brief pause before the voice chimed, almost gleefully: "A farmer!"

"A farmer?!" I nearly screamed. "Why? There are probably a million farmers in this world already!"

"Incorrect." The voice sounded almost smug. "I assign each reincarnate a unique position, tailored specifically to their personality and potential. Exceptions apply for the heroes, of course."

"Farmer isn’t unique! Try again," I snapped. "Find something epic. Something that makes me absurdly powerful!"

"Alright, let me search again." The pause felt longer this time, like the voice was really enjoying itself. Then it returned, dripping with mock enthusiasm: "Got it! You'll be the girlfriend of the hero, destined to bear his heir!"

I froze. "You’ve got to be kidding."

"Nope," the voice replied cheerfully. "It’s technically an important role. Think of it as influencing the next generation."

"This is ridiculous," I groaned, slumping into whatever limbo I existed in. "Can’t you take this seriously?"

"Oh, I am," the voice shot back. "You’re the one who showed up to the afterlife with zero redeemable qualities. It’s not my fault the system doesn’t have a 'useless slob' category."

"Oh, my fault? No, no, this is on you!" I snapped. "You’re the one who can grant wishes but can’t even find the right category for my non-zero potential. Honestly, calling yourself a god is generous—you’re a limited, incompetent, and downright stupid excuse for one!"

There was a pause. Then, the voice chuckled darkly. "Attacking my ego? Not bad. Fine. I have something that might suit you... but first."

For an instant, everything shifted. I could feel myself—if I could call this "feeling"—being dragged into a non-existent realm. I can feel every of what’s left of me telling this place is not in the same plane as space and time. The surroundings were an abstract projection, less like a place and more like an idea.

And in this strange, boundless void of white was a single glowing dot.

"This little dot," the god began, voice tinged with mock reverence, "is called the Unknown Fate."

The dot shone brighter than anything I’d ever seen, but it wasn’t light. No, it was… something less. Whiter than white, emptier than the void I floated in. My nonexistent gut churned.

"What’s wrong? You’re awfully quiet now," the voice teased.

"What the hell is that?" I whispered, unable to look away.

"A concept I created for special occasions like this," the god explained. "Think of it as a prototype—a little experiment, if you will. Based on my calculations, it should work. If not... well, you’ll disintegrate and skip heaven entirely."

"I’m not testing that!" I barked, snapping out of my daze.

"Not even for the waifus?" the god countered. "Besides, you’re already dead. Unless…" His tone turned wicked. "You’d prefer to become the hero’s waifu instead?"

I gritted my imaginary teeth. "Fine, I’ll take it."

The dot pulsed ominously.

"Good choice," the god said, far too gleeful. "This little beauty can break the universe’s settings—do the ‘forbidden,’ as you mortals love to call it. It’s pure chaos, unbound by logic or rules. Once activated, it will assign you a role at random. And I mean anything."

I froze. "What do you mean by anything?"

"Anything," the god repeated, enjoying himself far too much. "You could end up as the hero—a new kind of hero, even. Or you might become a worm. Or a dragon hybrid. Or… death itself. It’s a gamble, really."

I stared at the pulsing dot, my nonexistent palms sweaty. "There’s no way to guarantee something good?"

"Nope!" the god chirped. "But that’s the fun, isn’t it? You wanted an epic. Here’s your shot."

I swallowed hard—or at least, I tried to. The weight of the unknown pressed on me like never before. This was it. The moment that would decide my future—or erase me completely.

"Fine."

"I like that attitude," the voice said, almost giddy.

The glowing dot pulsed one final time, brighter than I thought possible, and then—nothing. No light, no sound. Just a void. Yet somehow, I felt it. The presence of something intangible. Slowly, words began to surface in my mind.

“Researcher?”

"Oh, look at that! You actually have potential!" the god exclaimed. "Though, being honest, it would’ve been way more interesting if you’d reincarnated as a worm or a slime. Imagine the possibilities!"

"That’s not funny," I snapped. "And what the hell is a ‘Researcher’ supposed to be?"

"Well," the god began, as though giving a lecture, "even if you don’t attend a school of magic, your skills will let you match the intellect of a scientist and the intuition of a detective. You don’t need to be smart, but if you are smart, you can land a real job, live a good life—maybe even help humanity evolve a little."

"And can I find a way to use my knowledge of researcher to defeat the demon lord ?”

"Hmm, technically no. You’re a Researcher, not a mathematician or sage. But hey, you could help a craftsman build powerful weapons for the real heroes."

"This is not what I—" Before I could finish, something changed.

For the first time, I could sense… something. Colors, maybe? No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t seen in the normal sense. It was like feeling light, shapes, and motion all at once, but not with my eyes.

"Wait," I muttered, panic setting in. "Why can’t I see? Don’t tell me I’m blind!"

"Well," the god replied, his tone far too casual, "technically, you’re not blind. You can’t feel your ears or mouth either, right?"

I froze. A chilling realization washed over me. "What the hell is going on?"

The god sighed, as though explaining to a particularly slow child. "Okay, so here’s the deal: the Unknown Fate has a small quirk. It gives you a specific starting scenario when used. In your case… congratulations! You’re a baby."

I blinked—or tried to. "What do you mean, a baby?"

"More specifically, your parents just… uh, ‘created’ you. Right now, your mom’s pregnant. So, basically, your existence has only just appeared in this world."

A cold shiver ran through my non-existent body. "You’re telling me I’m supposed to wait here for nine months?"

"Yup!" the god said brightly.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

"Don’t be so dramatic. Think of it as a chance to relax. No responsibilities, no stress. Just float around and enjoy the peace before things get complicated."

"Peace?! I’m a glorified lump of cells! You’re telling me my grand reincarnation starts with nine months of being stuck in a womb?"

The god chuckled. "Well, like I said, this is a prototype. The next guy will probably have a smoother start."

"I don’t care about the next guy! I’m stuck here!"

"Oh, you’ll be fine. In the meantime, why don’t I explain to you about this world and the players who have better possibilities to achieve all of your dreams instead of you."

"Are you sure? don't you have anywhere else to be since you are god?"

"There's no much work to go around these days. Besides your case”

“ No Work?” I asked “With so many humans and so many ‘positions,’ shouldn’t you be swamped?”

“Remember, I never said I was a god in the first place. That’s just a label you humans slap on things you don’t understand. There are only the strong and the weak in my world.”

“I’m a Cyberith,” he said, his tone like a teacher explaining something to a particularly dull student. “It’s a race that exists beyond your comprehension. My archetype is what you’d call ‘Admins in your language."

Race? Archetype? What is he even talking about?”

“Admins? So, what? There are others like you?”

“Exactly,” he said, as if I’ve finally caught on. “There are admins everywhere, sending humans like you to their respective isekais. You just happened to stumble into mine. ”

" So wanna talk or I can leave, I do not mind which you choose."

“I guess saying no it's not going to change anything, speak all you want. I have time”

The god talked incessantly about the new world. He explained the systems, the politics, life and death in this strange place—and most annoyingly, about the so-called “heroes.” I couldn’t quite understand why he kept focusing on them. It was hard to listen when the only thing I could focus on was my current state. A state of limbo.

Being conscious without the need to sleep, eat, or drink was a bizarre existence. Days, months—who could tell how long it had been? Time didn’t matter here. What mattered was the strange sense of emptiness, of being both here and nowhere at the same time. My body, or what was left of it, had no demands. No urges to do anything.