The smell of gasoline and asphalt clung to my clothes as I pulled the truck into the
depot. Another twelve-hour shift, another lonely night. My fingers ached from
gripping the wheel, and all I wanted was a hot meal and some sleep.
But fate doesn't wait for comfort.
As I pressed the brake pedal, a stabbing pain tore through my chest. It was so
sharp, so sudden, I swore my heart had stopped. Darkness swallowed my vision,
and for a fleeting moment I thought: So this is how it ends.
But I didn't die.
Instead, I heard a voice—vast, echoing, heavy enough to crush mountains yet
strangely gentle.
"Makoto Taro."
That was my name.
"I am the Lord, God of all dimensions. You have been chosen as My messenger."
The words sank into me like a commandment carved into stone. My mind
reeled—me, a truck driver in his late twenties, worn down by debts and dead-end
days… chosen?
Then came the choice:
1. Be reborn in my world as a child, stripped of memories.
2. Reincarnate into another world with my memories intact—but powerless.
3. Remain as I am, and serve as His messenger while living my current life to the
fullest.
Five days. That's all the Lord gave me to decide.
When my eyes opened, I wasn't dead. I was lying in a hospital bed, machines
humming at my side. My girlfriend clutched my hand so tightly it hurt, her face pale
and wet with tears. My younger brother sat quietly beside her, eyes cast down,
holding everything in like always.
Five days to choose between life, death, and destiny.