Kai's awareness returned not with a jolt, but a gentle unfolding — like a page turning on its own.
He was floating.
Not in water. Not in air. Something deeper. Endless white surrounded him, pulsing faintly with energy like a heartbeat. He looked down. No body. No weight. Just presence.
"So this is what comes after," he whispered.
"No," came the reply, serene and thunderous at once. "This is what comes between."
Kai turned. Before him stood a figure cloaked in stars, its robes ever-shifting with constellations, parchment ink, and ribbons of light. Faceless, ageless, it radiated quiet authority.
"Welcome, Kai," the being said. "I am the Archivist."
Kai blinked. "I figured you were Death or something."
"Death is an ending. I am a scribe of continuity. Your story, while paused, is not finished."
The void trembled slightly. The Archivist raised a hand, and three orbs of shimmering light circled around Kai.
"For the selfless act of saving another, you are offered a rare gift: rebirth. In a world of your choosing, with three boons to carry with you."
Kai's mouth hung slightly open. This felt like something out of an isekai light novel.
"You're serious?"
"Entirely. Choose wisely."
Kai's breath caught. For the first time since the white void appeared, he felt his heartbeat. Distant, like a fading drum, but real.
"Okay... okay," he muttered, grounding himself. He had fantasized about this a thousand times before — during study hall, walking home, lying awake at 3AM after watching emotional AMVs. But now, it was real.
"I want to be reborn in the DC Universe — Gotham, to be specific."
The Archivist said nothing, but the orbiting orbs shimmered in response.
"And my first wish... I want to be Satoru Gojo. Not just look like him — I want all of his powers, cursed techniques, the Six Eyes, the Limitless, Reverse Cursed Technique, Domain Expansion — everything. I want all the knowledge that comes with them. But also... I want it bound to me. No one can copy or steal it."
One orb flared brightly and vanished.
The void shimmered around him, and for a brief second, Kai saw visions — blue energy threads, the universe folding around his eye, space warping with a flick of a finger, the stillness of Domain Expansion. He saw Gojo, standing over a battlefield, smiling. Then it all vanished.
He felt the hum of cursed energy vibrating in his veins, a low drone like background music he'd always known was there but never heard before. An unshakable presence. A thrill, and an overwhelming responsibility.
Kai exhaled, body tingling.
"Second wish. I want to remember everything from my life. My family, my friends, everything I learned — especially my knowledge of anime, manga, and DC comics. All of it. Every story, every fight, every fact."
The second orb glowed, pulsing briefly before fading into his chest.
Images poured through him — panels, voices, pages turning in rapid succession. Naruto's smile. Goku's scream. Gojo's glare. Batman's cape slicing through lightning. He remembered everything.
But more than that, he felt their meaning. Their lessons. Why heroes fight, why villains fall, why stories matter. They weren't just facts. They were philosophies. Tools. Weapons.
He smiled faintly. "I can use all of this. I'll make it count."
"And third..." He scratched the back of his translucent head, almost sheepish. "This one's selfish, but... I want a bag that gives me any food I ask for. Infinite supply. Doesn't spoil. And no matter what it is — even if it's junk — it's always healthy for me. I'm kind of a foodie."
The final orb pulsed gold and melted into him.
Kai felt warmth spread through him, and instantly a vision came — a small, nondescript shoulder bag forming beside him. He reached inside and pulled out a piping hot okonomiyaki wrapped in paper. The smell hit instantly. He laughed.
"You're not joking."
"I do not joke," the Archivist replied, amused.
He took a bite. Savory, soft, with just the right crunch and sauce. He could taste memory. A festival night. A food stall. A warm smile behind the grill. The food bag wasn't just magic. It was his magic.
The light faded. The three orbs were gone, their essence now part of him.
"You do not yet understand the scale of the gift," the Archivist said. "Cursed energy will have no equal in that world. Magic will not recognize it. Science will not define it. But the darkness will feel it."
Kai's amusement faded slightly. "You're saying they'll come for me."
"Some will fear you. Others will try to control you. But most will never even understand you."
The Archivist turned slightly, and for the first time, the space behind him opened — a vision of Gotham City stretched across an invisible canvas. Thunder cracked. A shadow darted across rooftops. But beneath that, something darker pulsed — a growing spiritual rot, invisible to human eyes.
Kai saw it. A cursed spirit crawling on the edge of a church. Another one slinking behind a crying child. Creatures feeding on fear, rage, hopelessness. And no one could see them. No one except him.
He imagined standing alone in the shadows of Gotham, surrounded by chaos, with no one else who could see what he sees. He imagined cursed spirits feeding on fear, crime, and misery. It was exciting — but terrifying too.
"Sounds lonely," he muttered.
"Perhaps. But stories worth telling often begin that way."
Kai looked up at the Archivist, the weight of what was coming finally sinking in. "Why me, though? I'm just... a fan. A nerd."
"Precisely. You are one who loves. Passionately. You see heroes and villains not as tools of conflict, but as echoes of truth. You are not a weapon. You are a witness with power."
A beat passed.
Kai breathed in the void, feeling how vast it was. How calm. The Archivist was no god. He was a keeper — of stories, of meaning, of change. And Kai... Kai was about to become one of those stories.
"Then let me write something worth reading."
The Archivist extended an arm. The white around them shifted, swirling into a spiral of black and violet — but now, with hints of gold, the color of decision.
"Then go. Your new story begins now. You will awaken in a world unfamiliar to your power — but perhaps, in need of it most."
A pull surged through Kai's being. Light engulfed him. His soul began to compress, twist, and rebalance, adapting to a new form, a new fate.
As his consciousness faded into the spiral, he felt a strange calm.
"I'll make this life count," he whispered.
The final words of the Archivist echoed as the spiral consumed him:
"Good luck, Satoru Gojo."
And then, rebirth.