Azraël Wynn was strolling home, chill as ever, headphones in, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. The night was quiet. Too quiet.
Then a truck came screaming around the corner. He jumped aside, heart racing. For a dramatic second, he poked himself like, "Yep. Still here. No missing limbs. Cool." He leaned back, exaggerated sigh of relief. "Did I just escape death…"
Safe, he thought. Until a bolt of lightning struck out of a perfectly clear sky.
"Wish divinity… did I ang—"
Black.
When he woke, he wasn't in the hospital or anywhere he knew. The ground beneath him was glossy, black, like polished obsidian. The air smelled faintly of ozone and old books. Across from him, a man sat at a table, calm and perfectly composed.
Azraël quickly lifted his shirt to check himself out. "Still… all here. Good. Good," he muttered.
The man looked at him for a long moment. Then, dryly: "That's a first. Generally, people start screaming."
ROB snapped his fingers.
In an instant, Azraël was in a chair in front of him, He opened his mouth to say something clever probably a joke about cosmic kidnapping but Rob didn't give him the chance.
"Someone made a mistake," Rob said, voice calm and sharp. "You weren't supposed to die. But you did."
Rob's gaze stayed on him. "You didn't cause this. You're not being punished… yet. I will let you fix it. You'll get three wishes, and you can go to any world you want."
Azraël massaged his chin with his right hand, leaning back. "Any wish, you say?"
Rob's cosmic eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You don't seem… mad."
Azraël shrugged lazily. "I mean… what can I do? I just got zapped by some Lovecraft-type shit. Not like I can do anything. And I'm too lazy to scream."
Azraël tilted his head, still lounging in the chair. "Is there a limit to what I can ask?"
"Almost none," Rob replied, calm and precise. "For example, I can't let you go back to your old world… or let you reach my level."
Azraël rubbed his chin again, smirking. "Guess I'll leave the god-tier stuff to the professionals."
Azraël's eyes lit up, a big grin spreading across his face. "Alright, first wish: I want a menu. A menu where I can give myself anything in the whole omniverse anything under your level, of course," he said, practically bouncing in the chair with excitement.
Rob looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Granted. But there will be a lot of things… so good luck finding what you want."
The smile on Azraël's face faltered. "Fuck… I want a search bar too."
Rob's eyebrow lifted. "Is that… your second wish?"
"Oh, come on," Azraël groaned, throwing his hands up. "Don't be petty."
Rob smiled faintly. "No."
Azraël groaned dramatically. "Fine, I'll use my second wish for the search bar. Wait… the world I want is that part of the wish, or do I pick the world separately?"
Rob shook his head. "No. The world is not in the wish."
Azraël leaned back, grinning. "For the last wish… I want to be 1M85 and look like Kaneki Ken."
Rob raised an eyebrow. "That's two wishes… but I'll let it slide. What world do you want?"
Azraël stared up at the impossible black ceiling for a second, thinking fast. "You let me pick the world and my backstory, right?" he asked.
"Correct," Rob said.
Azraël's grin spread. "Alright… Teen Wolf. House in Beacon Hills. Same age as Scott. Start school same day as Allison. Parents dead, left me the place. Oh… can I ask for money?"
Rob regarded him for a beat. "Yes. But nothing crazy."
Azraël blinked, then smiled too big. "So if I asked for, like, a hundred million, you'd…?"
"No," Rob said flatly.
Azraël let out a theatrical sigh. "Figures. Guess I'll have to steal it then because the big cosmic guy refuses to be my sugar daddy." He waggled his fingers as if already plotting petty crimes.
"Why don't you just use the menu for the money?" Rob asked.
Azraël looked at him for a solid three seconds, unimpressed. "'Cause I'm too lazy, duh?"
Rob sighed. "Good luck in the world."
"WA—" Azraël started, but before he could finish, light flared, and the world shifted around him.
Azraël woke up in a bed that was way too neat for his taste. He stretched, yawned, and immediately started inspecting himself like a man making sure he'd survived the multiverse reset.
"Alright… arms, legs, torso… still here. Hair… check. Anime eyes… check. Height… yep. Damn, I'm a work of art," he muttered, running a hand down his chest and sighing.
Azraël sat on the side of his bed and noticed a box at his feet. He lazily picked it up and opened it.
Inside were all the documents he'd need—ID, deed to the house… and a single letter.
He unfolded it. "Good luck."
Signed: Cosmic Sugar Daddy.
Azraël leaned back against the headboard, sighing. "Cool. Paperwork done. Guess I own a house now."
After that, for the next thirty minutes, Azraël wandered around his house. He was happy enough sure, it wasn't a mansion or anything, but it was still nice.
Then his phone rang. (it had been in the box Rob gave him.)
"Hello?" he said, still sprawled on the couch.
"Azraël Wynn?" a stern voice asked. "This is Principal Harris. You're late for your first day of school."
Azraël groaned, flopping back. "Of course I am…"
"Sorry, Ms. Harris, I'm on my way," Azraël said into the phone, his voice flat but polite enough.
"See that you get here quickly," Principal Harris replied. "Don't make a habit of being late."
Azraël hung up and looked around. The school wasn't far he could see the building in the distance but… he didn't have anything for school. Not a pen, not a book, not even a backpack.
He let out a long sigh. "First time's fine. Guess I'm using my power for school."
He activated his menu. A blue window appeared in front of him. Unlike the flashy stuff from before, it wasn't lighting or fireworks just… a lot of options. He exhaled. "Thank God I have the search bar."
He typed quickly, looking for the basics: a school bag, a pen, and some books. Everything appeared neatly before him.
Satisfied, he slung the backpack over his shoulder. "Cool. Done. Now I'm off," he muttered, glancing at his reflection. He was too lazy to change clothes, so he left as-is, confident that his Kaneki Ken look would suffice.
With that, he started toward the school, moving at his usual chill pace.