Chapter 1: A New Spark
Nathaniel Lee sank onto a nearby bench, his expression hollow. The light in his eyes—already dim—had all but vanished.
His mind kept replaying the doctor's words.
The man in the white coat had stared at the test results in silence, the paper trembling slightly in his hands. His face was grim, as though the truth itself was too heavy to say out loud.
Eventually, he spoke.
"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Lee... but you've developed a severe brain tumor."
The words hit like a freight train.
Nathaniel's lips parted.
"What...?"
The word slipped out in a whisper, disbelief rooting it deep in his chest.
"Given the severity," the doctor continued, voice tight, "you may not have much time left. A few months, perhaps. Maybe just weeks."
And just like that, the last thread Nathaniel had been clinging to snapped.
Back in the present, he stared at his trembling hands.
He'd always told himself he didn't fear death. That he was indifferent to it.
But now, with the clock ticking, he realized it had all been a lie.
He was terrified. Terrified of the end. Terrified of his end.
A deep sigh escaped his lips. He covered his face with his palm and dragged his fingers through his hair.
"I'm going to be okay..." he whispered, again and again, like a child trying to convince a monster to go away.
He stood up, looked at his phone, and after some thought, decided to head home.
The night breeze brushed against his face. The street lamps flickered like dying stars—some already dead. No one cared. This part of the city had long been left behind, full of broken things that were never fixed.
He soon arrived at his old apartment building—a run-down place he could barely afford, weighed down by the debts his parents left behind. It wasn't exactly crumbling, but it always felt like it was one touch away from falling apart.
Nathan entered with a quiet expression. The security guard, half-asleep in his chair, didn't even glance his way.
He climbed the stairs all the way to the rooftop.
The sky above was scattered with stars, tiny white flecks that danced across the vast, dark canvas.
"I always avoided anything harmful," he murmured. "Never smoked, never drank, never touched drugs…"
His voice was calm, yet carried the weight of something deeper.
"…but if my life's already cut short, maybe it's fine to try at least one bad thing."
In his hand was a new pack of cigarettes and a cheap red lighter—both bought right after leaving the hospital.
He pulled out a cigarette—thin, pale, and cylindrical—and held it between his lips, mimicking what he'd seen in movies.
He flicked the lighter. Flame. Smoke.
He inhaled.
And instantly coughed.
Uncontrollably.
"Ugh—how does anyone enjoy this crap?" he rasped, his eyes watering as he bent over, coughing harder than he'd ever expected.
In his daze, he leaned against the railing for support.
But the railing, old and rusted from years of neglect, cracked beneath his weight.
There was no time to react.
With a sickening crunch of metal, it gave way.
Nathaniel fell—tumbling off the rooftop and into the cold, uncaring night.
He died unceremoniously.
His soul drifted from the world of the living into—somewhere unknown, abandoned by the Gods of his world, the void.
——————————————————————————————
He was unconscious—or was he conscious?
It was strange.
He was experiencing both states of existence at the same time, is that even possible?
Through his consciousness, he managed to perceive his own form.
A light. A ball of light—it was blinding like the sun.
Around him was the void—an infinite expanse of absolute nothingness, so vast, so enormous that he couldn't ever imagine its edge.
He couldn't think—but he had full awareness. Does that even make sense?
And one thing he knew more—is that he wasn't alone.
A voice echoed within his mind, or was it outside? Strange. Very strange.
He couldn't even differentiate between the internal and external anymore.
An unfamiliar overlapped voice of both a man and a woman was heard—it was monotone, emotionless yet so full of character.
[ System has been activated. ]
[ You have bonded with the Nameless Return System. ]
[ A strange and unusual phenomenon has occurred. ]
[ You have died. ]
He nodded.
Was that the gesture of indicating that he understood the system's message or was he just nodding without a particular reason? It might be the former.
[ "A dead host, that's a pretty common condition I think? It has been a long time since I've ever read the guidebook." ]
[ "Well, I think there's a protocol regarding this right?" ]
He was quite surprised—or not really? He has no face to know if he was actually surprised or not.
[ "Ah, here is it, 'If you found yourself bonded with a dead person, you need to reincarnate, transmigrate, regress, or resurrect them to fulfill your duty.'" ]
[ "Do they even teach how to do all of that to someone? I don't think I remember, but that shouldn't really be a massive issue." ]
He wondered if he wouldn't be reincarnated and he would be stuck here for the rest of eternity—that thought seemed to send shivers down his spine.
[ "Fear not. Fortunately, you wouldn't be stuck here alone as I wouldn't let that happen, I would find a way to send you to a new world. I don't want to leave you alone here after my consciousness was deactivated." ]
[ Analyzing the Host's memories… ]
[ Searching for a suitable world… ]
[ Scanning through stories that the Host has read… ]
The thought of being able to enter and meet characters he knew in the flesh made him slightly excited but the reminder of the horrific stories he had read made the feeling fade.
He prayed to never have to set foot inside that kind of world.
[ Ding! ]
[ Story of «Sovereign of Decay», Grade of «C+». ]
[ World Setting: «World of Rot Dweller». ]
He couldn't recall anything regarding the meat of that story in the meantime—one thing he knew is that, his instinct tells him that this one is merely another Necromancer slop story.
[ "Calm yourself, Host. Beware and brace yourself, the rebirth will commence soon—in 5 seconds you will be sent into a new world." ]
His response was calm—that was until he felt the uncomfortable caressing of creepy slender hands of darkness that grabbed his nonexistent body—dragging him deeper beyond the ordinary depths of the abyss.
His partial consciousness returned to deep slumber as he disappeared into the nonexistence, awaiting for the chance to be awake—to be whole once again in a new world.
To be continued…