"I died in the dumbest way imaginable."
"Not in a blaze of glory, saving a child from a burning building, or a tragic, poetic accident that would've made for a decent obituary.
Nope, I died slipping on a spilled protein shake in a gym locker room, cracking my head on a bench, bleeding out to the song Eye of the Tiger that played from someone's phone nearby.
"And now, I'm floating."
In a void to be precise. It felt like a velvet and static blanket made of television fuzz. I couldn't move, but I wasn't afraid. Just… annoyed.
"Well, that was disappointing."
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It sounded like Morgan Freeman, if Morgan Freeman had just woken up from a nap.
"You, my friend, are dead. But lucky for you, I'm feeling generous."
A figure materialized in front of him. It was tall, lanky, and wearing a bathrobe covered in constellations. His face shifted constantly—sometimes old, sometimes young, and sometimes a cat!?
"I'm ROB. Random Omnipotent Being. Not God. Not the Devil. Just… customer service for the multiverse."
The boy blinked. "You're joking."
"I wish I were. But you died pathetically and ahead of your time, so the universe owes you a redo. Now, here's the deal: three wishes. Then I send you off to a new life. You'll keep your memories, but everything else resets."
The boy hesitated for a sec. "Can I choose where I go?"
"Nope. That's randomized. But I'll give you a hint: it's a world where martial arts, teen drama, and emotional trauma collide like bumper cars. Sound familiar?"
His eyes widened. "Cobra Kai?"
"Ding ding ding. You'll be reborn there. Now, let's talk wishes. What's your first one?"
"I want to be reborn as Samantha LaRusso's twin brother. Same age, same school, same everything. But I want to look like Noah Centineo."
ROB raised an eyebrow. "Bold. You'll be attractive, but not distractingly so. Good call. Next."
"I want the ability to create skills. Any kind—combat, mental, emotional, everyday. As long as they don't break reality."
ROB grinned. "Ah, the gamer wish with a twist. No prerequisites, no grinding. Just conceptual clarity. You'll be a walking simulator of self-improvement."
"I want a healing ability. Something subtle. Like… I touch someone, and they recover 10% of their body, mind, and soul."
ROB actually clapped. "Now that's interesting. Not overpowered, but deeply useful. You'll be the emergency medic of the dojo wars."
ROB snapped his fingers. The void began to shimmer.
"Alright, kid. You're about to wake up in a world of roundhouse kicks, broken hearts, and redemption arcs. You'll remember everything. But no spoilers. Let the story unfold."
The boy felt himself falling—not free falling fast, but like sinking into warm water.
"Oh, and one last thing," ROB added, voice echoing. "Don't mess with the timeline too much. But if you do… make it interesting."
Those were the last words he heard before it went dark.
He woke up in a bed that wasn't his, in a house he'd never seen, with sunlight pouring through the window and a voice calling from downstairs:
"Silas! Breakfast!"
And just like that, my new life began