BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Rise and shine, boys! Time to get up! We’re heading to the water park today!" boomed a loud voice.

The door slammed open as a man, about 52 years old and heavyset, barged in, collapsing his weight onto one of the beds, startling John (21), who grumbled beneath him. Anthony (18) sat up, still groggy, blinking at the commotion.

“Mmm, I’m up, I’m up,” John mumbled, half-smothered by his father’s weight. “Get off me, old man. You’re heavy.”

“Get him, Dad!” Anthony laughed from the other bed. “Come on, John. You’re not gonna let an old man whoop your ass, are you?”

“This guy weighs a fuck ton, dude,” John muttered, struggling to push his father off.

After a bit of wrestling, the boys finally got up, groaning but ready for the day. They shared a small room with two full-sized beds and a gaming setup wedged between them. The condo was cramped—a two-bedroom, two-bath space on the fifth floor, overlooking a small harbor that led to the ocean.

John wandered into the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast filling the air. His grandmother, a kind woman of 72, with snow-white hair and bright blue eyes, was at the stove.

“Morning, Nana,” John greeted. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Over-easy eggs, fried potatoes, and bacon,” she replied with a smile. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Where’s Dad? Figured he’d stick around after bulldozing me out of bed.”

“He’s downstairs, smoking,” Nana said, handing John a plate. “Eat up. You boys have a long day at the water park. You’ll need the energy.”

John took his seat just as Anthony emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed in his Rasta lion t-shirt and black swim trunks.

“Food’s ready for you too, Anthony,” Nana said.

“Thanks, Nana. Smells great.”

Suddenly, the front door swung open with a bang. Todd, their father, stormed in, a heavyset man with a buzzcut and a snow-white goatee, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and swim trunks.

“TODD! Be easy with the door!” Nana snapped. “I don’t want to disturb the neighbors.”

“Relax, Ma. Everyone’s already awake,” Todd grumbled, taking a seat and grabbing his plate.

“That doesn’t mean we should be reckless. This is my house, and I expect you to follow my rules,” Nana replied sternly, passing him his breakfast.

The room fell into silence as the family watched the morning news. A politician appeared on the screen, shouting slogans about making America great again. Nana’s face twisted in disgust.

“I hope he doesn’t win,” she muttered.

“I hope he does,” Todd countered, his voice firm. “This country needs to be run like a business, not a charity. He’ll put a stop to all the nonsense going on.”

“He’ll ruin us. Mark my words,” Nana snapped. “What do you think, John?”

John, leaning back in his chair, shrugged. “I don’t care. The world’s boring and my opinion really don't matter, anyway. Let it burn.”

Anthony shot him a look. “That’s a messed-up way to think, man. We’ve got to pay attention to who’s running the country.”

John just sighed, clearly uninterested. “Like I said, don’t care.”

Nana changed the subject. “You boys excited for the water park?”

“Yeah!” Anthony said, his excitement returning.

“Mmm-hmm,” John muttered.

Once everyone had finished eating and gathered their things, they prepared to leave. Nana, always the worrier, kissed them goodbye.

“Y’all be careful. There are plenty of idiots on the road.”

“I got it, Ma,” Todd replied. “John, you’re in the middle seat again.”

John groaned. “Seriously? Why am I always squished between you two?”

“Because you’re the skinniest,” Todd chuckled. “It’s less uncomfortable for me.”

“Whatever,” John grumbled. “Love you, Nana,” he said, giving her a hug.

“Love you too,” Nana said, hugging both boys.

Then, without warning, BOOM. The apartment shook as an explosion engulfed the room, flames swallowing everything. No one survived.

---

Void.

John’s consciousness slowly returned, but nothing felt real. He was floating, yet weightless, suspended in a vast nothingness. The darkness was endless, pressing in from every direction. He tried to move his arms, but they wouldn’t respond. He tried to call out, but no words escaped his lips.

What the hell... happened?

He couldn’t even hear his own voice. Only his thoughts echoed back to him. The last thing he remembered was hugging his grandma. Her warmth. Her smile. That familiar, comforting scent of fried potatoes and bacon lingering in the air. And then...

The fire.

My dad... Ant... Grandma...

His heart twisted in his chest—or at least, he thought it did. Couldn’t feel his heartbeat anymore. Couldn’t feel his body at all. Panic gnawed at him as he floated helplessly in the void. His family... Were they dead too? Was this the end?

The silence was suffocating, and the endless darkness was unbearable. Was this what death felt like?

But just as despair began to settle in, a light appeared in the distance. A soft, pure white light, slowly drawing nearer. It illuminated the surrounding void, casting a warm glow that cut through the cold emptiness. The light floated toward him, circling as if it was studying him.

What... is that?

Suddenly, a voice, gentle and soothing as a spring breeze, broke through the silence.

“Hello, mortal.”

John’s thoughts froze as the light hovered closer, its glow wrapping around him like a gentle embrace.

“I am Ishmara, the Goddess of Ishmar. The prime goddess of a world known as Ishmar.”

John’s mind raced, trying to comprehend what was happening. A goddess? Creation? Ishmar? None of this made sense. He wanted to speak, to ask questions, but his body still refused to obey.

“Your death was... untimely,” Ishmara continued, her voice tinged with sorrow. “But fear not. I have come to offer you a new life in my world.”

Death... The word hit John like a punch to the gut. So, I really am dead.

“Yes, my child,” Ishmara’s voice responded to his unspoken thoughts. “But I will grant you and your family another chance. I shall reincarnate you into Ishmar, where you will live anew. You will receive three gifts upon entering my world, and I shall grant you and your kin great strength—both physical and magical.”

Magic? John’s thoughts surged with a flicker of excitement, cutting through the lingering shock. A world with magic?

His mind briefly wandered, imagining the possibilities. A world of sword and sorcery, of monsters and heroes. It sounded... thrilling. So different from his old, boring life.

“Yes, unlike your previous world, mine is brimming with magic,” Ishmara said, her voice filled with warmth. “You will find it far from bland.”

But the thought of magic was quickly overshadowed by something heavier. My grandma... my dad... Ant.

His heart ached, though he couldn’t feel it. What about them? Are they gone too?

“Your grandmother perished in the fire,” Ishmara said softly. “But if it is your wish, I can reincarnate her as well.”

A wave of relief washed over John, though guilt quickly followed. His grandmother had always been so kind, so full of life. She didn’t deserve to die like that. He swallowed back the emotion—at least, he would have if he still had a throat.

“Yes, please,” John thought, his mental voice trembling. “I... I feel bad. She shouldn't have died like that.”

“Death is always a sorrowful affair,” Ishmara responded with understanding. “But I shall give her another chance in my world. Now, what are your other two wishes?”

John’s mind swirled. Wishes? What should I even ask for? He had never been one to dream big, always content with the mundane flow of his life. But now... now he had a second chance. A chance to be something more.

“Well... I don’t want to die again,” John thought. “I want to be powerful. Strong enough to protect myself and the people I care about.”

“Powerful you shall be,” Ishmara said, amusement in her tone. “I had already planned to grant you immense strength, both physical and magical. But if it is your wish, I shall enhance it further.”

John felt a strange sense of reassurance. Even in this void, something about Ishmara’s voice was... comforting. Soothing. Like a mother watching over him.

“As for the third wish...” John hesitated. “I’d like to hold onto it, if that’s okay. I don’t know what else I need yet.”

“Very well,” Ishmara agreed, her voice softening. “You may ask for your third wish when the time is right. Now, prepare yourself, for you will soon be reborn into my realm. Embrace this new life and make the most of the gifts you have been given.”

The light surrounding him grew brighter, almost blinding. He could feel a strange pull—like something was tugging him forward, drawing him toward the light.

“And remember, John... try not to die again,” Ishmara said, a hint of playful amusement in her voice.

John would have smiled if he could.

And just like that, the light consumed him, and everything faded to black.