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[Prologue]

warning: none, ig death, also mischaracterization of you in this story and I'll apologise for that, afab!reader.

series!m.list - next

“… is this the torture white room everybody in the internet talkin' about?”

When you woke up this morning, your first thought was that someone had glued your eyelids to the surface of a halogen bulb. You found yourself in a stark, blindingly white room. Really, it’s so aggressively white that it’s completely impossible to tell where the walls end and the ceiling begins. Whether you are in a claustrophobic closet or a sprawling, infinite expanse is entirely vague. Just looking at the lack of depth perception is enough to make your brain itch. It’s damn unsettling.

At first, a fleeting thought crossed your groggy mind: Well, they finally did it. You genuinely thought your family had finally had enough of your premium brand of bullshit, packed your bags, and dumped you in the most sterile psych ward in existence. But honestly? That was way too much of a stretch. You’ve always been a gold-medal champion at hiding whatever flavor of mental unraveling you have. You kept that shit under lock and key.

But maybe... they noticed?

Uhh, definitely not. As you rubbed the sleep grit from your eyes, you quickly realized this wasn't a hospital. Hospitals have corners. Hospitals have scuffed beige floorboards and a lingering smell of bleach. This place was just... too white. Too bright. It was entirely made of light.

'Hell yeah... It rhythms baby!'

“So, you have finally awoken, reincarnator.” a random voice suddenly echoed. It didn't come from anywhere specific—it just sort of existed in the air around you.

Your brain, still running on dial-up internet speeds, processed this profound cosmic greeting with all the grace of a brick hitting a window.

“Uhm… Good morning??” you mumbled, squinting into the void with utter confusion.

“… You sure do give a lighthearted response,” the voice replied, sounding distinctly unimpressed.

Look, you just woke up badly. Your head isn’t working yet and your synapses are still trying to comprehend what the hell is actually going on. For now, you decided you would just ask this disembodied voice some very polite, kind, and well-thought-out questions.

'Be polite.. Be polite, [name]. Dont forget that.'

“Where the fuck am I?” you blurted out, cursing the invisible entity in front of you. Oh well. So much for being polite.

“This is the reincarnation room. Here, you shall pick where you will be reincarnated and what race you shall be reincarnated as,” it stated, completely dismissive of your crude and entirely justified profanity.

As the entity spoke, you finally caught the bizarre nuance of its voice. It sounded exactly like a prepubescent little girl, but the cadence, the vocabulary, the weary sigh behind the words... it spoke like a seventy-year-old man who just wanted to read his Sunday newspaper in peace.

It sounded so fundamentally, deeply weird.

“… So I died,” you stated. It wasn't a question.

“Sadly, yes…” the entity sighed, laying on a thick, fake layer of pity.

“I see.” You scratched the back of your head, thoroughly unbothered.

“You… how interesting. People normally panic in this type of situation, but I'm guessing you're simply wired differently.”

“Mhm, I suppose so,” you shrugged.

“You're not going to say anything else? Ask a barrage of desperate questions about your situation? Beg for a second chance? Oh dear, well ain't cha a boring lil fella,” the voice said, sounding genuinely baffled.

Honestly, to bully someone who just woke up? Zero bedside manner. They're kind of an annoying person—uhh—you mean... Divine? Cosmic? Being..?

Well, whatever. You stood up, stretched your arms above your head to pop your spine and shake off the lingering drowsiness, and decided to question the unknown entity further.

“Nh, mm… How did I die, then?” you asked through a massive, jaw-cracking yawn.

“You adapt and move quickly, huh… no matter. The cause of your death was sleep apnea,” it nodded, the tone shifting back to someone merely reading facts off a clipboard.

Sleep apnea syndrome.

You blinked. It’s that thing where some people just stop breathing in their sleep… is that right?

“You usually aren’t supposed to drop dead from sleep apnea though. It just raises your risk of cerebrovascular disorders and heart diseases over time," It sighed, sounding deeply exhausted by the logistics of your demise.

“Hmm? That’s what I heard, too. I didn't think it was an instant-kill condition."

"It isn't. Still, your death was indirectly caused by it. Really, the upper management does incredibly sloppy work these days... A bureaucratic error. Anyways, your heart stopped. You died. Got it?”

“Haa, I understand,” you replied in that permanently tired, nonchalant tone of yours.

You didn’t know or care about any cosmic "upper management," but if you died, well, there was nothing that could be done about it now. You didn’t suffer, so you guessed that was a massive win. It’s much better than living a long life only to die while in pain, trapped in a hospital bed hooked up to a dozen beeping machines. So instead of all that drawn-out suffering, checking out young and quickly in your sleep was honestly much more ideal. 10/10, would recommend.

“Then… why the reincarnation gimmick?” you asked, tilting your head at the endless white. “Is there some hidden rule where if you die from a sleep apnea glitch you get a second try? Isn't the requirement for this sort of thing supposed to be an encounter with Truck-kun? You know... the classic trope where someone needs to be flattened by a speeding delivery vehicle to get the VIP isekai treatment.”

“No. It is simply that your soul is… how should I put this… exceptionally lack the motivation,” It sighed once again, but this time you could practically feel the entity glaring at you like a deeply disappointed parent.

“So… being passionless, is it?”

Well. It was exactly as the voice said. Normally, you are a profoundly passionless person. A person without a single scrap of motivation. If there was an Olympic sport for lacking drive, you would’ve skipped the trials because it sounded like too much effort. You are the physical embodiment of self-indulgence, a parasite happily clinging on to and surviving off of your own parents' Wi-Fi and fridge.

“Without a doubt, I am like a speck of dust on earth. Or maybe it’s better to say I’m merely extra baggage, an existence that offers absolutely no benefits for being around, like a human appendix or an awkwardly placed uvula,” you nodded to yourself sagely, agreeing completely with the cosmic assessment.

“Your self-evaluation is shockingly harsh! But... true, I guess...”

“Well, it’s all true. And honestly, what is the point in reincarnating such a passionless meat-sack? Go force this ‘chosen one’ gig onto a person with actual drive. Like some guy who died screaming, ‘Noooooo, I won’t die yeeeet! I have so much left to do!’ That would make for a way better story, right? Anyway. Goodnight—or goodlight, whatever.”

You exaggerated the way you were supposed to act, but at this point, you were already dead, so why care about social norms? You dramatically sighed, closed your eyes, and flopped straight backward onto the blinding white floor, fully intending to just lay there and go back to sleep.

“Wait, don’t just casually agree with your own worthlessness and go back to sleep! Also, what is with that strangely dramatic performance!?”

Suddenly, the sensation of gravity completely betrayed you. The comfortable bed—yes, your bed had apparently been with you this whole time, supporting your weight in the void—disappeared right before your eyes. Without even leaving you time to blink or brace yourself, it gave off a distinct feeling of vanishing into thin air, sending you crashing unceremoniously onto the hard, invisible floor.

THUD

… Okay. This definitely doesn't seem to be a dream. The phantom pain currently radiating from your tailbone confirmed that much.

You rubbed your back and scowled at the ceiling. Or the wall. Wherever the hell it was hiding.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. What a massive pain. You miss your bed already.

How much time had passed? Ten minutes? Ten hours? You honestly had no idea. Time didn't seem to exist here. Currently, though, you were suffering through the nagging, scolding, and unsolicited "wisdom" of this boomer-minded cosmic entity.

"Listen up, a soul that lacks motivation is basically one that does not fit in with its world. Have you ever felt it? The feeling that your perception of reality and your surroundings were disjointed?" it asked, its tone laced with genuine perplexity.

"I have, but isn’t it normal for everyone to experience that at least once?" You sighed for the umpteenth time since this conversation started.

Everyone is different. You always assumed it was perfectly normal to feel alienated by the sheer gap between your own thoughts and society's expectations. Plenty of people had a nihilistic mindset. Most people eventually realized that life was just a meaningless grind, right? That was just how the world worked.

"You are just strange. There are not many souls who possess your specific, pure level of absolute apathy. Also, what the hell? Are you insane? Damn it... Why the hell did the higher-ups assign me as your caretaker?!?"

...Hey, no need to be insulting. Did it just imply you were mentally defective?

"So, from what I understand, because I was born in the 'wrong' world, you set up a plan to have me be reborn in a more appropriate one. Right?" you asked, raising a skeptical brow.

"Don’t call it a plan. Instead of a plan, consider it... cleaning up after ourselves. An apology from the cosmos for misplacing your soul into an incompatible reality," it sighed wearily.

"Haa…." you sighed back. Goddammit.

Basically, the universe screwed up, and their solution was to throw you into a new world in the desperate hope that you might actually find a reason to get out of bed. You honestly doubt it’s that easy for a person to change, but It had already decided your fate. Nothing you said was going to get you out of this.

Whatever. Even if you couldn't find a reason to live, you could always just find a quiet corner in this new world and sleep through it all over again.

"With that said, I’ll be having you pick your race," the entity announced, sounding rather pleased with itself, as if getting to the fun part of a video game.

"Is it okay even if I’m not human?" you tilted your head.

"Yes, yes! There are many different existences in your new world. Anything is fine! For instance, vampires are incredibly strong. Demons too! Or, maybe you want to be a cultivator? You read web novels, right? Murim, Xianxia, martial arts? You can do that! You'll have to start as a human, of course, because humans possess the greatest innate potential to ascend through the realms! Plus, you'll have an additional System Guide—you know, the RPG-style interface to help you—"

"Then I’ll go with that," you interrupted smoothly, cutting them off before they could launch into another sprawling exposition dump.

To be fair, you were getting incredibly overstimulated. You did not need to hear a thirty-minute TedTalk about generic web-novel tropes, or how you were going to live the same repetitive, slop-aura-farming protagonist life.

The sheer horror of actually living a life packed with high-stakes action sent a cold shiver down your spine. Why the hell would you actively risk your life just to punch harder? No thanks.

"That was fast!?" it sputtered, clearly derailed.

Well, thinking is a pain. Registration processes like this should be clicked through as fast as possible. If you took this seriously, you'd just end up with a headache.

"O-okay… I guess it’s fine. Next would be abilities… basically, your skill set," it sighed, its shoulders practically slumping in disappointment at being robbed of its dramatic presentation.

"Haa…. What kinds of skills are available?" Ugh. When will this end? This unskippable tutorials is taking way too long for your liking.

"Alright, pay attention," The entity said, perking up a bit. "Since you chose the Cultivator route with a System, you need to understand the energy you'll be using. In traditional Xianxia or Murim worlds, they call it Qi, Ki, or etc. Your System categorizes it simply as Essence. It is the foundational energy of the universe. However, you aren't going to be born as some heaven-defying immortal. You will start as a normal human child—a squishy, highly perishable little meatbag—I'm throwing in a physical boon. Your only advantage is that your baseline physical prowess will be slightly higher than a standard human's, granting you a head start. You'll be born with naturally denser muscle fibers, reinforced bone structure, and heightened kinetic vision. A premium starter body, so you don't accidentally snap your own neck trying to do a backflip."

"Uh huh," you muttered, staring blankly.

The entity began pacing in the white void.

"Cultivation usually requires decades of grueling meditation, cleansing impurities from your body, opening your meridians, and suffering through heavenly tribulations. It is a path of pain and infinite willpower. BUT, to accommodate your utter lack of drive, I'm giving you a System Guide. It will quantify your progress into numbers, so your monkey brain can comprehend your growth without having to meditate on a mountaintop for fifty years. It'll manage your stats, catalogue your martial arts, and track your Essence purity. It’s foolproof. Even a sloth like you could—"

You honestly don't know when you stopped listening. It wasn't on purpose. Your brain just hit its absolute bandwidth limit, and everything the entity was saying smoothly dissolved into a gentle, buzzing white noise. You stared blankly at the space above the entity's head, entirely checked out.

At least until a sharp SNAP echoed through the void, violently jerking you back to reality.

"Oh dear. Poor, slow little sweetheart," the entity cooed condescendingly. "Since you clearly lack the attention span for a verbal explanation, I'll just give you the visual aid."

You blinked. Suddenly, a glowing holographic interface materialized in the air in front of you.

It was a very familiar sight. Too familiar.

You blinked again as the space in front of you shimmered. A translucent, blue holographic interface is in thin air. You were almost positive you had read a web novel with this exact layout of ui.

[▷Variable Stats]

Strength: 8.5

Stamina: 9

Speed: 8

Perception: 7

Vitality: 9

Essence power: 5

[▷Invariable Stats]

Intelligence: 6/10

Perseverance: 4/10

Luck: 5/10

Charm: 7/10

[▷Gift]

???

[▷Arts]

???

You stared at the floating blue screen for a long, quiet moment.

"No offense," you deadpanned, pointing a finger at the screen. "But is this literally ripped straight from The Novel's Extra by Jee Gab Song? You think I wouldn't recognize this layout? Did you just plagiarize a Korean web novel for my soul's interface?"

Silence filled the white void. An incredibly awkward, heavy silence.

Eventually, it was broken by a nervous, high-pitched giggle and the sound of an entity awkwardly clearing its throat.

You stared, profoundly unimpressed.

"Well… It just feels like the most realistic take on a status screen!" the entity defended weakly. "Moreover, I can't exactly give you the unrealistic perk of a massive, reality-breaking power-up right off the bat! I had to balance the variables! It's an homage, really—"

"...."

You genuinely didn't know what to say to that. Plagiarism in the afterlife...? What an absolute joke.

You sighed, rubbing both hands down your face, completely surrendering to the absurdity. Whatever. It’s not like you had a choice. Beggars couldn't be choosers, especially dead ones with a 4/10 in Perseverance.

"What world will I end up in, anyway?" you asked, eager to just get this over with.

The entity giggled again, a sound that instantly set your teeth on edge. "Oh, do not ever worry. It's not that dangerous. Trust me."

You scowled at the empty air. So far and so bad, that's a red flag. "Just tell me, damn it."

You were reaching your limit. You didn't know how long you'd been trapped in this sensory-deprivation hellscape, but it was no wonder the 'white room' torture method was so effective. You could practically feel your sanity slowly peeling away at the edges.

"Ugh, fine. It's a merged universe, though... so there will be a lot of complications. Are you ready? Readier than ever? Readies to ready? Readily readily readily—"

"Just fucking tell me!" you snapped. It was arguably the most emotion you had displayed since dying.

"For fuck's sake, you are annoying," you huffed, your chest heaving slightly.

The voice snorted, clearly amused by your rare outburst. "It's DC and Marvel."

It dropped the information as casually as if it were commenting on the weather. "Like I told you. Not that dangerous."

"What."

You stared into the blinding void, utterly paralyzed. Not dangerous? Was this cosmic bastard insane?

The two most chaotic, world-ending, alien-invading, cosmic-retconning, collateral-damage-heavy universes in all of fictional history—merged into one? And you were being sent there with a measly 4 out of 10 in Perseverance?

The actual fuck?

Even independent of each other, living in DC or Marvel as a normal citizen was practically a death sentence. You could get your spine folded in half by Bane on a Tuesday, and then get vaporized by Ultron on a Wednesday. Jamming them together was a recipe for a multi-versal apocalyptic migraine. And this entity was trying to convince you it wasn't dangerous? This was supposed to be an apology for a ruined life?!

"Uhh... You do know what kind of worlds those are, right...?" you whispered, glaring at the empty space. "Did you EVER think that maybe, just maybe, absolutely everything could go completely fucking wrong with that?"

Your heart actually started to beat faster. Nervousness—a feeling you rarely ever entertained—was bubbling up in your chest. Now that you thought about it... didn't overpowered protagonists always end up fighting equally overpowered enemies? The universe loved balance. If you had a broken System and cultivation abilities, the universe would inevitably throw a Thanos-Darkseid hybrid at your face to compensate!

You were violently regretting your choice of power.

"Uhh... Can I take back my words from before?" you asked, taking a step back as if you could walk out of the room. "You know what, I don't want to be a cultivator anymore. Or have any abilities. Or a System. I think I'll just be a normal, background human being. Let me be a barista in a small town in Idaho where no heroes ever go. Please."

The entity looked at you. You couldn't see it, but you could physically feel the weight of its flabbergasted gaze pressing down on you.

"Oh, no. That won't do. You can't exactly take back a registered soul choice now," it clicked its tongue. "Also, logically, wouldn't you need some sort of power so you actually have a higher chance of surviving a merged superhero universe?"

"That's exactly the problem!" you yelled, gesturing wildly at the stolen status screen. "Don't you know the fundamental laws of generic web novels?! If you're OP, your main enemy is OP! Having power just attracts more trouble! Sure, I might be able to use low-level villains as stepping stones, but that drastically increases the risk of poking the wrong hornet's nest! What if I accidentally offend Lex Luthor or Doctor Doom while trying to buy groceries?! Ugh!"

You scowled deeply, burying your hands in your hair. You just wanted to sleep, and now you were going to be drafted into the Infinity Crisis Secret Wars.

"Huh, well... Sorry not sorry," the entity chimed, sounding entirely unsympathetic to your impending doom. "The paperwork is filed. No take-backs. Have fun avoiding the Joker and the Green Goblin!"

Just as it said that, the floor dropped out from under your stomach. You felt your consciousness rapidly slipping away, but not before the entity you couldn't see finally manifested in the blinding light. It was just a glowing silhouette of a child, but you could practically see the shit-eating grin on its face.

"Since you so rudely interrupted my guide before, I'll make sure that your System interface explains absolutely everything to you once your reincarnation is complete," it grinned. You couldn't see the teeth, but you could feel the sheer malice in that smile.

"By the way..." It waved brightly as the void swallowed you whole. "Make sure you don't let the Parker Luck get you!"

"Wait! What the hell do you mean by—!"

Your words were cut off as reality folded in on itself, plunging you into the dark.