Monday mornings were never kind to me. The alarm clock screamed like a banshee at 6:30 a.m., its shrill cry a declaration of war against every fiber of my being. I groaned, slapped the cursed thing off the nightstand, and rolled out of bed like a dying walrus. Myself? Just another 30-year-old corporate drone caught in the endless loop of emails, deadlines, meetings that should've been emails, EMIs, and a social life that consisted solely of nodding at my neighbor and rewatching "Game of Thrones" out of nostalgia and disappointment.
Life was routine. Too routine. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. Nothing ever changed. Excitement? Romance? Glory? All relegated to fantasy novels and Netflix. The highlight of my weekend? Catching a discount on instant noodles.
And yet, that mundane rhythm was violently shattered one rainy Tuesday. I remember it vividly. I was crossing the road outside my office, umbrella in one hand, a cup of overly sweet coffee in the other. The pedestrian light had turned green. I was halfway across when I heard the sound—screeching tires and a roaring engine. A truck was barreling through the intersection, the driver oblivious to the red signal.
I turned.
Impact.
Pain?
Strangely, no. There was a brief flash, and then—nothing.
I awoke to darkness. Not the peaceful kind, but an endless, yawning void that stretched in every direction. No floor. No ceiling. Just... floating.
"Ugh, did I die?"
"Ding ding ding! Correct-o-mundo! One soul, tragically smushed by a rogue truck! You win... an afterlife!" a voice chimed, chipper and high-pitched.
I blinked, or at least I thought I blinked. Floating across from me was a glowing orb of light, pulsating with pastel hues. If a rainbow and a disco ball had a baby, this was it.
"Uh... who are you?"
"Moi? I'm your friendly neighborhood administrative deity! You can call me... Bob! Or Sparkle-san! Or Supreme Coordinator of Cosmic Oopsies! Take your pick!"
"Wait, what? Deity? Oopsies?"
The orb bobbed like it was nodding. "Yup! See, funny story! You weren't supposed to die today. That truck? Wasn't even scheduled on the mortal timeline! It took the wrong multiverse exit ramp. Major paperwork headache, lemme tell ya."
"So I died... by mistake?"
"Yup. And you know what that means!" the orb giggled.
I raised a non-existent brow.
"Compensation package! You get to be reborn in the world of your choice! Plus… drumroll please… five wishes!"
My nonexistent jaw dropped. "You serious?"
"Like a heart attack. Well, not a good metaphor in this context… but yes!"
My mind raced. Any world? Five wishes? I could finally live a life that wasn't dictated by rent, electricity bills, and pointless appraisals. I thought about it for a moment, and the answer came naturally.
"I want to be reborn in Westeros. In the Game of Thrones world."
The orb let out a squeaky gasp. "Spicy choice! You do know it's basically medieval Hunger Games with dragons, right?"
"I know. But this time, I want to live it right. I want to be reborn as Viserys Targaryen."
"Wait. That guy? Whiny prince with a temper tantrum fetish and an early check-out with molten gold?"
"Yeah, that guy. But I won't be that Viserys. I want to rewrite his story."
The orb wobbled excitedly. "Oooh, I like you. Okay! Five wishes. Fire away!"
I took a deep breath. I'd given this more thought than my last job interview.
"First: I want the Super Soldier Serum. Like Captain America. Strength, agility, healing, all of it."
"Nice! No more noodle arms!"
"Second: Yoriichi Tsugikuni's swordsmanship from Demon Slayer, including the Transparent World."
The orb buzzed. "Mmm... anime samurai stuff. Approved! You'll be a sword god."
"Third: The Goru Goru no Mi. The Gold-Gold Fruit from One Piece."
"You want to be a bling machine?"
"Exactly. Instant wealth, and the ability to turn anything into gold."
"Ka-ching! You got it."
"Fourth: Mori Mori no Mi. The Forest Fruit. I want to create farms, forests, and food."
"You're gonna be Westeros' top environmentalist. Respect."
"And finally: I want to master Valyrian blood magic. Real ancient magic, not half-baked pyromancy."
The orb shivered. "Oooh, edgy! Dark and ancient stuff. But hey, you're Valyrian royalty. I guess it fits!"
"So... it's done?"
"Packaged, processed, and prepped for reincarnation! You've got strength, style, swords, sorcery, and so much swag. Good luck, Golden Boy!"
I chuckled nervously. "What now?"
"Now? We hit RESTART!"
The orb made a cartoonish BOOP noise, and everything turned white.