In the blink of an eye—I was gone.
One moment, floating in God's weird infinite office space, next second, the world bent around me like a badly rendered video game cutscene.
"Ugh… I just hope He doesn't accidentally wipe the movie… or the game… or those terrible fanfics where Leon joins a harem of anime girls…" I muttered, spiraling through a vortex of light.
Far in the distance, I barely caught God's voice—except it wasn't aimed at me, it was His inner monologue leaking into the cosmic static:
"Please, please, PLEASE… let him not erase the entire franchise this time…"
Suddenly—BAM—I landed.
Concrete beneath my feet. Sirens wailing. The distant, unmistakable moans of zombies.
Welcome to Raccoon City.
The sky was stained with smoke. Police cars abandoned, blood smears on the walls. A street lamp flickered ominously as if trying to warn me, "Hey idiot, you're in a survival horror world now."
Before I could even panic, a translucent blue screen popped up mid-air, floating inches from my face.
[Daniel - Death (Temporary Substitute)]Species: Unknown (Technically Cosmic Concept)Immunity: Absolute — You cannot die. Not even a bad haircut.Hostile Thought Detector: Active — If someone thinks of hurting you, they… drop dead.Accidental Destruction Risk: Extremely High — Control your mind. Please.Auto-Cleaning: 100% — Fresh like divine laundry detergent.Mental Discipline: 2/100 — Garbage.Power Mastery: 0.01% — Potentially catastrophic.
I read it twice, sighing.
"Great… I'm basically a nuclear weapon that showers regularly."
As I adjusted to the mess around me, the inevitable happened.
A zombie stumbled into view—limping, groaning, half its face missing like an unfinished art project.
It looked at me.
I felt it—the crude, animalistic thought. No words, just an instinct: Kill him.
POP.
Its brain imploded. The corpse collapsed like a wet sack of meat.
"Okay… that's gonna be a problem," I muttered, watching more undead stagger from the shadows.
Two… five… twelve.
Every single one glanced at me, and the moment their rotten minds sparked with even a flicker of hostile intent—
POP. POP. SPLAT.
Heads burst like overripe melons at a watermelon festival.
The screen updated:
Total Hostile Thoughts Detected: 17Total Fatalities: 17Personal Hygiene: Immaculate
I grinned. "At least I'll be the cleanest apocalypse survivor ever."
Suddenly, the air shifted. A real presence approached.
Boots on pavement. Confident, trained footsteps.
I turned—and there she was: Jill Valentine.
Legendary, tactical, and definitely not ready to deal with cosmic nonsense today.
She raised her gun, aiming at my forehead.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, voice steady despite the chaos.
I raised my hands. "Daniel. Death… temporary replacement. Long story."
Her eyes narrowed. Suspicion rippled off her like heatwaves. For a terrifying microsecond—I felt the thought:
"Threat… eliminate…"
I panicked. "WAIT—don't think—!"
BOOM.
The wall behind her exploded, brick and mortar raining down, but Jill? Perfectly intact.
My heart stopped for a second—if I even had a heart anymore.
The HUD pinged:
Hostile Thought Registered — Partial. Redirected Impact: Environment OnlyFatalities: 0Good job, idiot.
Jill blinked, confused but alive.
I exhaled. "Okay, okay… new rule: If you almost think violent thoughts, buildings go boom instead."
She frowned. "Are you high?"
"No, just cosmically overpowered and dangerously untrained." I grinned. "Wanna help me not accidentally nuke your timeline?"
Before she could answer, the ground rumbled.
From the smoke, Nemesis emerged—massive, stitched together, and glaring like an angry science experiment.
Jill cursed. "Oh, hell—"
Nemesis roared, glaring at me.
The thought hit me like a wave—pure, monstrous intent to kill.
POP.
Its skull imploded. The abomination collapsed, twitching.
Jill's jaw dropped. "What the…?"
I smiled proudly. "Hostile thoughts, bad idea."
The HUD updated again:
Hostile Thought Detected: 1 (Nemesis)Auto-Termination: SuccessMental Discipline: Still AwfulPower Mastery: Still 0.01%Cleanliness: Maximum
I dusted off my jacket, which somehow remained spotless despite the carnage.
Jill lowered her weapon slightly, eyes wide. "You're serious… you really are Death?"
I nodded. "Part-time. Full-time disaster. Apparently, I destroy galaxies when I sneeze."
She stared. "You're joking…"
I raised a hand, making a tiny black hole flicker in my palm. It sucked in some loose trash, then vanished.
"Okay, okay! Stop!" Jill backed up. "Just… stay calm."
"Trust me, I'm trying." I winced. "Last time I got nervous, I erased two constellations and a Starbucks."
Jill facepalmed.
I glanced at the sky. "God's probably watching… praying I don't screw this up."
In the distance, a faint divine whisper floated down:
"Please… don't erase the franchise…"
I chuckled. "Guess I better train fast."
The zombies weren't the threat anymore—I was.