"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
— Seneca_
First POV
It was a normal day like any other. Birds were chirping, children were playing in the park, elderly folks sat chatting on benches. And I was stuck watching all this from my hospital window.
Ah, I should probably explain why I was in the hospital. Nothing too dramatic—just stage four stomach cancer. Yeah, having cancer sucks. But cancer in the stomach? That's a whole new level of misery. You can't eat your favorite meals or, frankly, any solid food at all. Trust me, there's nothing pretty about it—except maybe the nurse who takes care of me. If only I didn't have this bald head, I'd be getting rejected by her in real time.
As I was daydreaming about our future kids—because why not?—the door opened, and she walked in.
"Noah, it's time for your chemotherapy," she said, skipping over pleasantries like "hello" or "hi." Straight to business. Man, what I wouldn't give to hear that voice welcoming me home after a long, tiring day.
"Noah, are you listening? Be quick or you'll miss the appointment."
"Yeah, coming," I replied, snapping out of my daydream.
After the long and grueling session, she was walking me back to my room, and I was fighting the biggest battle of my life: how should I ask her name? Yeah, three months in this hospital, and I still didn't know it. It's not like I'm some shy virgin who can't talk to girls—just my self-esteem took a nosedive after my hair started falling off. Before all this, I was set for life. I was about to become the youngest college history professor. Life was good—I balanced studies and youthful adventures without dropping the ball.
"We're here. Take care of yourself, and if you need anything, press this button," she said, breaking my train of thought.
Man, I really need to stop monologuing. I didn't even realize we were already at my room.
"Sure, and thank you," I replied, proud of myself for at least getting the words out.
She smiled—no words, just that beautiful smile—and left.
Now what? Between the painful therapy, painful eating, and other painful activities, there's nothing to do but watch TV or scroll my phone. Even those distractions are hard to enjoy when you're wracked with pain. Sleep—it's the only relief I have.
But not that evening.
It started small: a nagging pain. Then it grew, then came the blood. Buckets of it. I didn't even know a person could vomit that much blood. I pressed the nurse call button, panicking, but nothing could stop the pain. It was unbearable. Someone, please make it stop.
The doctors burst into the room. They were shouting, saying something, but I couldn't hear them. Everything was fading. My vision dimmed, voices faded, and the only thought in my mind was:
I should've at least asked for her name.
And then, nothing.
Or so I thought.
I was no longer confined to my hospital bed. I was standing in someone's living room. It had the same warmth as my childhood home—like suddenly my mother was going to come through the kitchen with some food. Man, I'm suddenly feeling hungry. Where exactly am I? I remember gut-wrenching pain, and suddenly I'm here. Please, Lord, let it be heaven and not some limbo where I live my entire life over and over.
Suddenly, there was a voice behind me chuckling.
"Well, you don't have to worry. It's not a limbo, just something I cooked up so you'll feel at ease and not get all panicky like all the others who came before you."
She's beautiful.
That was the only thought running through my mind—not who she was, or what she meant by "cooked this place," but just how beautiful she was.
"Well, thank you for your compliment. I don't get many of those around here," she said.
The second thought that came to my mind was: who was blind enough not to recognize her beauty?
"You're very welcome," I replied.
Wait a minute.
"I never said any of that aloud though. How did you—?"
"Well, if I can create your childhood home, why can't I read your mind?" she replied.
"Well, that's not creepy at all. Thank you for that," I said. Man, where the hell am I? If not in limbo, then who is she? Is she a goddess here to judge me?
"We have wasted enough time. Let's get started."
Start what? Man, I'm so confused.
"Noah White, male, died at 26. Reason: stomach cancer, last stage."
I was dreading this thought, but it looked like I really died, huh.
"Okay, so now what?" I asked calmly.
"You're calm for a man who died so young," she said.
"Well, I knew I was going to die, so I made my peace with it. Only regret I had was not being able to ask that caretaker's name."
Man, if only I was brave enough to ask.
"It was Mary."
Huh? What?
"Her name. It was Mary."
Mary, huh? It kinda suits her. Okay, so now what?
"Now we spin the wheel."
A what now?
"The Wheel of Worlds will choose your next destination—a place where you are going next."
"Wait, wait, wait. What the hell are you on about? You haven't told me anything. What's going on? Who the hell are you? And what exactly do you mean by my next destination?" I asked, exasperated.
Suddenly, the atmosphere around her changed.
"You will mind your tongue, boy. A mortal does not get to talk to me like that. Now, I have been known by many names throughout the eons, but for simplicity's sake, let's just call me ROB. Now, you have been chosen to reincarnate in a new world, so rejoice, mortal—you get to live again. Now, do you have any other questions before we begin?"
"Why me?" I asked timidly.
"No special reason. I just put my hand in the river of souls, and yours was the first one I got. So here we are. Now, let the roulette spin."
The Wheel of Worlds started spinning, and I couldn't really see how many worlds there were. The only thing I could make out was that most of the worlds were Earth—but some had brackets near them.
It kept spinning for who knows how long, then suddenly stopped on Planetos.
Is it something like another world? But I swear to God I've heard that name somewhere before.
Suddenly, my mind jerked, and I remembered: wasn't Planetos the name of the Game of Thrones world? Am I going to reincarnate in the Game of Thrones world? Man, I'm suddenly scared. That world is not made for a peace-loving history nerd. I'm going to get killed in the most brutal way possible, aren't I?
I was suddenly on the verge of a panic attack when she spoke again.
"You will get three boons, same way your world was selected."
I started to pray to every lord I know the name of: "O Almighty, Buddha, Shiva, Amaterasu, please listen to this mortal's plea. Please let it be something that can help me survive that land full of assholes."
I don't know what it was, but someone listened to all my prayers, and this is what I got:
• Ijin Yu (Mercenary Enrollment)
• Lelouch Lamperouge (Code Geass)
• Yoriichi Tsugikuni (Demon Slayer)
Man, I think I used up all my seven lives' luck to get these templates. Not only will these help me survive there, but also dominate it. Yoriichi alone could dominate all those knights throughout the lands.
Wait a minute.
"Do I also get Lelouch's Geass?"
"No."
I can live with that. After all, Lelouch is more than just his Geass.
Wait a minute, I'm going to reincarnate in Planetos, but where exactly am I going to go? I could reincarnate in Essos as a slave, or Dothraki, or worse—an Unsullied.
I was just about to ask her about it when she spoke up.
"It's time for you to leave, and your memory is going to be sealed until you are four years old."
"Wait a mi—!"
I was about to speak up when suddenly the lights went out, and I