"What if you could start over?" a whisper echoed, dripping with saccharin.
Eyes from the abyss stared at him, unblinking. A boy with porcelain skin unfolded his wings, raven feathers with a whiff of incense. It filled the stale air with an ominous aura.
Their shadows drank the light away, writhing on his deathbed.
"I'm Lu, your guardian angel." The sweet voice didn't match his looks. "It won't be long now, but I'm here for your last moments. So tell me, what'd you change if I gave you a second chance?"
An angel? More like the harbinger of death, but he wheezed too hard to call him out.
"Take it easy," Lu sang, a cold finger reaching towards him. "I'll take a peek myself."
On touch, painful memories flashed in reverse.
His sickness, the helplessness—his life savings melting away.
All the overtime. Thirty years of number-crunching for a pink slip in the pandemic.
The arrogant 'Screw your logistics,' still grating on his skull like broken gears.
A sickening crunch that left him no options.
His biggest mistake might have been working on construction sites.
Or dropping out of school? Or the friends who'd take—but won't give back.
The naivety—that there was always a way forward. Hah.
"I would... Never rely... On anyone." His words came out as a choked whisper.
"Hmm," Lu sighed. "Do you also regret falling in love? To run away from home with that girl?"
Violent, wet coughs shook his body.
They almost ripped his lungs as he remembered, the hair like fire and freckles for days—
He was only fifteen back then.
He laughed at the saying that gingers collected souls, wearing them as freckles, but now?
After they broke up, he could never trust a girl again.
Did his soul also end up on her face?
Those few months turned his life upside down.
"So romantic," Lu shivered, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "But you didn't go crawling back on the bridges you've burnt, I respect that. For all that suffering, I'll make it up to you, somehow."
With a flick of a hand, he opened a portal to an infinite void.
"You leave behind nothing of value, so Heaven's out of reach." The pause was ominous. "No, you don't deserve Hell, either. But the Purgatory can also break the likes of you."
He pointed at the dizzying, true endlessness.
Even looking at it stole away what little breath he had left.
"You'd wallow in your regrets for a thousand years until you forget," the boy explained. "Then with a purified soul, you'd be reborn, and make the same mistakes again."
His agonizing journey flashed through his mind.
"Indeed, so I offer you three things," the angel counted on his fingers. "You'll be reborn before your memories fade, and I'll even let you pick the place. Do you want a peek at the far future?"
The thought of endless hours working on the computer made him shiver.
"All right," Lu chuckled. "That must have been enough for many lifetimes, so no modern tech. What about magic? A world of ancient beliefs? Kings and queens? Monsters and mages?"
That sounded much better. It promised something new, a life less mundane.
"It's settled, then," he nodded, searching his gaze. "You can have a final wish. What will it be? Should I make you rich? Famous? Immortal? What will you make of your second chance?"
Those three sounded great—on paper.
But money didn't last forever, and fame, too, seemed like a fickle thing.
Loyal followers? Nah, though getting every girl he never could—
Why not start a harem in the new world?
And being immortal while on his deathbed seemed like a punishment, not a reward.
He struggled with each breath, wishing he'd finally draw his last.
If only he could choose how and when he died—
But his fifty years on earth taught him that things didn't work like this. Abusive bosses, corrupt coworkers, bullies. Why live forever, if people like them had power over him?
A lifetime's worth of anger and desperation nestled in his mind, thinking about them.
If, instead, he gained the power to rule over them all—
To become their worst nightmare. To get his revenge as a tyrant, to rule over them, crush them, and show them the suffering he had to endure.
Yes, that was more like it. He gathered all his strength to squeeze out those six words.
"I want... To be... In control."
The angel raised an eyebrow.
"To rule like a noble and never bend to anyone? Or—"
A cough wracked his body, blood spraying the sheets.
Lu recoiled, wiping his feathers clean with a look of distaste.
"Tsk, time's up," the boy sighed. "I'll do something about that, but let's get you going."
The void changed as another world filled the endless space, alien but also familiar.
It was nighttime over there, too, only a tiny crystal casting a flickering purple light.
He somehow knew that this was the humble beginning of his new life.
A dirt floor with hay all over, rough stone walls, animals wailing in the distance—
And a woman's laboring silhouette before him, all alone.
She cried out in short gasps, drawing his final gaze to her before it all went dark, then nothing.
As if he were floating, unmoored from flesh and bone.
No air, no pain, only that purple light, now swelling, burning, until the cold bit like teeth.
He gasped. The air tore into new lungs, no longer heavy with incense, but raw and shocking.
It carried the stench of poverty and regret, yet breathing has never been this easy.
He cried out in joy, hearing nothing but a newborn's scream.
His voice. His limbs flailed around, almost weightless, but his eyes couldn't focus.
Voices blurred together in the distance.
"Lucifer, you meanie!"
A woman with hair like fire peeked over Lu's shoulder; her face had freckles for days.
"Lilith," Lu yelped as his protege cried like a baby in his new life. "How long did you eavesdrop?"
"Since you asked if he regretted falling in love with me," Lilith leaned over the bed, caressing the old man's face. It was growing cold. "He was such a cutie. I loved ruining him for you."
The boy composed himself, but not before the demon confronted him.
"Why did you give him a free pass from Purgatory?" she pouted. "I claimed his soul, you know."
"I didn't get my fill yet," he gulped, eyes gleaming toward the newborn. "You have no idea how delicious his suffering can be. I couldn't wait another thousand years until he was reborn."
"You meanie," she repeated. "And what if I want to seduce him again?"
"Be my guest. He had an interesting thought at the very end about his next life."
"I took a peek, too," Lilith sighed. "Much suffering on that path—so I'll let it slide. But I'm calling dibs if he makes a harem."
"Suit yourself," the angel closed the old man's lifeless eyes, letting the portal fade away.
On that day, strange noises drew the attention of a nun in the Kingdom of Kasserlane. She returned home with an abandoned basket, the priest cataloging the odd phenomenon.
Years later, it became known as the Prodigy of Haiten, but the priest named it Konrad Ostberg.