(Part 1: Transmigration)
Sebastian slouched in an old, battered gaming chair, its tattered leather torn and crusted with crumbs and suspiciously sticky stains. From downstairs, his mother's voice screeched for him to come eat dinner. His father shouted back, insisting they should let the boy starve—fed up with the parasite he called a son.
But Sebas didn't care. He was too deep in his world, eyes locked on hentai—specifically, one where a helpless woman was being ravaged, her submission making it easy for Sebas to imagine himself as the dominant one. He jerked himself furiously into a crumpled Kleenex, face twisted in a grotesque blend of euphoria and desperation.
Loud, guttural grunts erupted from his room—echoing down the stairs, rattling the walls. He was close—seconds away from his pathetic climax.
Then, it hit.
A crushing tightness gripped his chest. His heartbeat faltered. Breathing became a struggle. His vision swam. He tumbled from the chair like a discarded doll, collapsing onto a pile of crusty, used tissues that littered his floor like the remnants of forgotten sins.
Pain surged through him, but his mouth couldn't form a scream. Even if it could… maybe he wouldn't have screamed anyway.
'Is this it?' he thought, limbs numb, the darkness closing in around him. 'Is this how it ends?'
'Finally,' he mused, welcoming the abyss he felt he was falling into. 'I'm tired. Tired of this world where imagination was my only joy, where everyone saw me as human garbage. Where did it all go so wrong...?'
Soon, the pain vanished. Then everything else did too—fear, sadness, even regret. He felt… hollow.
Then, a voice.
[Would you like another chance?]
It was deep, calm, everywhere, and nowhere all at once.
"What?" Sebas muttered. "Who said that? God?"
He glanced around, but saw nothing—just a void, infinite and featureless.
[You can call me that, sure. But I like to think I'm more than a god. I'm an artist. My name is Leonardo Vinard. You can call me Leo.]
The voice was followed by a curling mist of deep purple. From it, a being emerged—divine, and enthroned upon a structure made of shadow itself, somehow darker than the surrounding abyss. A presence that radiated dominion.
Sebas was entranced. This... thing, this Leo, felt like power incarnate.
"If you're... a god," Sebas asked, voice hesitant, "does that mean heaven and hell are real?"
[They are. And I can send you to either. But... there's a third option.]
Leo tilted his head, his otherworldly features unreadable.
[You could choose to live again.]
Sebas blinked, heart—or whatever now beat in its place—thudding. 'Another life...?'
He thought. Thinking of the opportunity.
'Heaven? Nah. I'd hate the sermons. Hell? No thanks. Eternal torture doesn't sound like my thing. Then I guess… there's only one real choice.'
"I want to be reborn," he said, with newfound resolve.
[Excellent.]
Leo snapped his fingers.
In a swirl of purple mist, a massive Wheel of Fortune appeared beside him. Thousands of names adorned it—universes, worlds, titles. All familiar to Sebas's memories.
Sebas leaned closer, eyes wide. "Those are... anime. Comics..."
[Spin the wheel. Let fate decide your destination.]
Sebas didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and slammed the big red "SPIN" button.
The wheel blurred, spinning faster than physics should allow. Names flashed by—Naruto, One Piece, Marvel, Bleach, Dragon Ball, Overlord, My Hero—
And then it slowed.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick—
[DC]
"Goddammit," Sebas muttered. "Of all places… DC. Just my luck. Wait—" He turned to Leo. "You said I get five wishes, right?"
[Indeed. Go ahead.]
Sebas took a moment. He wouldn't mess this up. Not again.
"First wish: I want the perfect body. No weight gain or loss. No body odor. Nothing like before."
[Granted.]
"Second wish: I want superhuman traits—everything about me pushed past even Superman. I won't be a degenerate weakling this time. I'll be the man. No... I'll be a god."
[I like it, alright next.]
"Third: I want to be immortal, with absolute regenerative properties. A god should be beyond death's grasp after all."
[A classic. Immortality it is.]
"Fourth wish: I want a pocket dimension. I can go in and out at will, control everything inside it, and bring others with me. Also, only I'm able to control who enters or exits."
[Done, now for the finale.]
Sebas grinned, savoring the power. "And finally... for my fifth wish: I want a lantern ring—one that feeds on my own boundless energy, powered by my ego. It's indestructible, bound to me alone, and can return to me from anywhere. No one else can use it."
Leo's grin matched his. [Your wishes have been granted.]
He clapped his hands once.
And the void responded immediately. Purple mist whipped through the darkness like a living thing, wrapping around Sebas. It devoured him.
(Part 2: A Very Familiar World)
When Sebas finally regained consciousness, the void was gone.
He now lay in a narrow alleyway, cold concrete beneath him, bathed in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Beneath the dawning sun.
Then it hit him all at once—the sounds of engines revving and tires screeching on the road, of people chattering somewhere in the distance, of rats skittering through garbage. The stench of rotting trash assaulted his nostrils. The colors around him—so vivid, so real—burned his eyes. He could even feel the faintest vibrations in the ground from every movement around him.
It was like he'd never truly existed before now and was experiencing it all at once.
Overwhelmed, Sebas collapsed into the fetal position, shaking, clutching his head, his breathing ragged.
'What's happening to me?'
The sensory overload was unbearable—sights, sounds, smells, even the feel of the air on his skin.
'I'm being overloaded by… everything.'
His vision blurred. Blood dribbled from his nose, and tears stained crimson as they leaked from his eyes. His body trembled, close to shutting down.
'I need to focus. I need to regain control.'
Forcing himself upright with trembling limbs, he crossed his legs into a meditative pose. Every muscle in his body screamed, every nerve fried. Still, he pressed inward—mentally, spiritually. He steadied his breath, centered his mind.
"...Better," he whispered hoarsely. A calm settled over him. Just enough to feel human again.
"I don't know how Superman manages this. I'm meditating and still struggling just to focus... I've got a long way to go."
Slowly, Sebas pushed himself to his feet, brushing the grime off his pants. He walked to the edge of the alley and stepped into the open.
And what he saw left him awestruck.
Towering skyscrapers stretched into the sky, white and gold buildings gleaming like monuments of hope. Holographic ads danced across entire buildings. People walked the pristine streets with confidence, dressed fashionably and laughing without fear.
'Metropolis,' he realized. 'No doubt about it.'
'So this is it... the DC Universe.'
His heart pounded. Excitement surged through his veins. 'I really get to meet Superman, Batman, heck, the whole Justice League, especially Wonder Woman…' A perverted grin crept across his face.
Then his eyes dropped to the golden ring on his finger.
It pulsed once, as if reacting to his gaze.
"I wonder how this thing even works…" he muttered, raising his hand.
The ring shimmered. His mind was suddenly flooded with instinctive knowledge—commands. And something more—words, etched into his soul like a personal oath. Without thinking, he recited them aloud:
"Across the stars, and realms beyond,My light burns bright, my stance is bold,Let those who doubt what I behold,Beware the glare of ego's gold!"
A faint golden glow flickered to life around the ring. It wasn't bright—not under the competing light of Metropolis—but it was alive. It responded.
A black and gold uniform materialized across his body, sleek and form-fitting, a symbol of power etched across his chest.
"So this is the power of a Lantern," he murmured, flexing his fingers.
He imagined an anime action figure in his hand—and one formed instantly, glimmering with golden light.
It lasted only seconds before fading into mist.
"...Damn. Guess I need more practice."
He looked to the sky. "Now, how do I fly?"
He bent his knees and launched himself upward—far higher than expected. In a single leap, he landed on the rooftop of a nearby building.
"Whoa! Definitely didn't see that coming!"
He laughed, but shook his head. "Okay, not flying. That was just a really strong jump."
'Maybe I need to treat it like the constructs... visualize it.'
Closing his eyes, Sebas imagined himself floating.
And then… he was.
His feet rose inches off the ground. Then a foot. Then five. He hovered silently above the rooftop, arms slightly out for balance.
"It actually worked…"
He shot higher, up past the rooftops, past the spires, past the clouds. The cold air kissed his face. The world below looked like a glittering model city, toy-like in its stillness.
He didn't fly at a very high speed. But he didn't care.
He glided through the clouds, wind trailing behind him, heart soaring higher than his body.
For the first time in his life, he felt free.
"This time around…" he shouted into the empty blue sky, laughing, spinning through the misty heavens, "This time will be different!"