A blinding light swallowed him whole, warm and all-encompassing.
So this is it… he thought hazily. Heaven? Hell? Maybe just oblivion?
He had no regrets about dying—life had wrung him dry, and in a way, this was a relief. No more work. No more exhaustion. No more meaningless suffering. Just… peace.
At least, that's what he believed.
Until the warmth changed.
Instead of fading into nothingness, the light suddenly flickered, and an unfamiliar sensation took over. A strange force yanked at his body, a pressure he hadn't felt in—wait. Gravity?!
The warmth vanished, replaced by cold air roaring against his skin.
And then he realized.
He wasn't ascending.
He was falling.
Fast.
His body plummeted through the sky, accelerating at terrifying speed. The clouds blurred past him in streaks of white, and the vast blue sky above shrank as the ground below rushed toward him. The force pinned his limbs against his sides, making it nearly impossible to move.
His brain lagged a second behind reality, still trying to process the sheer absurdity of what was happening.
"What the—?!??!"
Then, full panic set in.
He struggled against the pull of gravity, his limbs flailing uselessly. His heart hammered against his ribs, adrenaline spiking through his system.
He cursed—loudly, in every language he knew.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?" he screamed, voice nearly lost to the rushing wind. "I THOUGHT I WAS DEAD—WHY AM I FALLING?!?"
And then another, even worse realization struck him.
He wasn't just falling.
He was falling from an insane height.
And he was terrified of heights.
The sheer, gut-wrenching horror of that fact made his stomach flip. His breathing turned erratic, his brain desperately searching for a way out—a parachute, wings, anything—but of course, nothing happened.
And then, through the storm of his panic, his mind latched onto something.
That voice.
That strange, emotionless voice that had asked him what power he wanted.
It had done this.
"YOU BASTARD! YOU TRICKED ME!" he roared into the sky, rage momentarily overtaking his fear. "IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF A JOKE?!? IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK PUNISHMENT FOR MY SINS?!?"
His thoughts spiraled. Was this karma? Retribution for wasting his life? Had he really been given a second chance—only to be sent straight to hell?
His mind couldn't think straight anymore. Everything was spinning, his body twisting in midair as he plummeted uncontrollably. The ground was coming up fast—
No, no, no, no, no—!
BOOM!
The force of impact sent shockwaves through the land, a deafening explosion of dirt, stone, and debris. The ground shattered beneath him, creating a massive crater at the site of his crash. A dense cloud of dust billowed into the air, masking everything in a thick, suffocating haze. The earth trembled from the sheer force, as if something far greater than just a human had landed.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, beneath the rubble, buried in a deep, human-shaped hole at the center of the destruction—
A weak, muffled groan.
Somehow… he was still alive but pain immediately woke him up to reality.
Hurts!
Hurts!
Hurts..!
A level of pain he had never known before, so intense it hijacked every thought, every nerve in his body.The moment he regained consciousness, his brain was consumed by the sheer, overwhelming agony. It wasn't just a dull ache or even the sharp sting of an injury—it was everywhere.
His chest felt like it had been crushed, his ribs screaming in protest with every shallow, ragged breath. The sensation wasn't just pain—it was raw, burning, unbearable pressure, as if his ribcage had caved in on itself. He tried to breathe in, but his lungs barely responded, every expansion met with stabbing fire.
His arms and legs—he couldn't even tell if they were still attached. Every joint, every bone felt wrong, shattered in places they shouldn't be. His spine throbbed, a deep, gut-wrenching agony radiating from his lower back up to his skull. Even blinking sent sharp shocks of pain through his nerves.
Am I dying again?
No—this was worse than dying. This was living through the dying process.He couldn't move.
Not even a twitch.
The weight of his broken body pinned him in place, his limbs unresponsive, his mind barely holding on.The taste of blood was thick in his mouth—warm, metallic, suffocating. A slow trickle of it dripped from his lips, pooling beneath him.
This is it.
If the fall hadn't killed him instantly, then this pain would. He could feel his body shutting down, his consciousness fading, everything screaming at him that this was his end.
But then… something changed.
A strange, tingling sensation bloomed from deep within his core.It was subtle at first, like a gentle warmth radiating outward. But then, within seconds, it grew. The pain, the unbearable weight crushing him—it started to shift.
The throbbing in his ribs eased. The stabbing fire in his lungs dulled. The shattered feeling in his arms and legs—was knitting itself back together.
A wet, cracking sound echoed through the crater as his broken bones snapped into place. The pressure in his chest vanished as his ribs realigned, his lungs expanding freely for the first time.
His fingers twitched. Then his hands flexed. His legs—once numb and useless—regained feeling, the previous agony fading into a distant memory.His skin, which should have been torn and bloodied, was now impossibly smooth, not even a scratch left behind.
His breath came out in a shaky gasp as he sat up.
Sat up.
Like he hadn't just fallen from the sky and died.
His hands roamed over his body in disbelief. No pain. No injuries. His skin was pristine, flawless—smooth as butter. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
For a brief, insane moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating. If his brain, in its final moments, was creating this illusion to comfort him before he faded completely.
But then he looked down.
The crater around him.
The cracked earth.
And most of all…
The blood.
Dark red, pooled beneath him, smeared on his torn clothes, staining the ground around his hands.
His blood.
Evidence that he had been broken. That he had suffered. That he had been on the verge of death.
And yet… here he was.
Completely healed.
His breath came in unsteady gasps, his heart pounding.
"What the… hell…?"
He paused.
"I'm kind of a zombie now?"
The words slipped out before he even fully grasped the situation.
He sat in the middle of the wreckage, hunched over, staring blankly at his hands—hands that should have been mangled, twisted, and useless. But they weren't. They were perfectly fine, save for the dried blood smeared across his skin.
His body should've been broken beyond repair. His ribs had been shattered, his lungs crushed, his limbs twisted in unnatural angles—he had felt every single piece of himself come apart upon impact.
But now?
Now, he was sitting upright, his body completely healed as if nothing had happened.
No pain. No lingering aches. No scars.
It was wrong.
His breathing grew shallow as his mind reeled, trying to grasp reality, but all it found was chaos. His heart was hammering against his ribs, his brain screaming for logic, but none of this made sense.
And then—
A memory hit him like a thunderclap.
A voice.
That mysterious, distant voice that had spoken to him in the darkness.
"If you were granted a power, what would you want to have?"
His whole body went rigid. His pupils shrunk.
That question.
That voice.
That… conversation.
"No… way…" he whispered, his throat dry as sandpaper.
He felt his stomach drop as the pieces clicked together like a horrifying puzzle. That wasn't some dying hallucination. That wasn't his brain playing tricks on him.
That actually happened.
His breath hitched, his shoulders tensed—and his entire expression morphed into pure, wide-eyed horror.His jaw dropped, his face stretched in disbelief, his hands clawed at his cheeks in shock—his entire reaction eerily resembled The Scream painting.
And then, like a gunshot—
"I'M ACTUALLY REINCARNATED THEN?!?!"
His own shattered sanity echoed back at him, his scream bouncing off the crater walls. Birds, startled by the sheer volume of his voice, took off from nearby trees in a flurry of wings.
His heart pounded violently, his pulse roaring in his ears.
No. No, no, no, this was bullshit.
This was fictional nonsense!
Reincarnation? That crap only happened in manga, in anime, in stories written by overenthusiastic fans!
Not to him!
His hands trembled, fingers tightening against his scalp as his mind spiraled further into insanity.
Did that mean he was in another world now?! A fantasy world?
Was he supposed to be the protagonist of some ridiculous adventure?!
His breath came in short, erratic gasps as his brain churned through every isekai trope he could think of.
Would he have to defeat a demon king? Gather powerful allies?
Or—oh, god no—would he have to build a freaking harem?!
A violent shudder ran down his spine, his hair standing on end like he had just been electrocuted.
"HELL NO!"
That was the last thing he wanted. He had never been interested in love, never felt drawn to romance, and frankly, the idea of dealing with multiple women at once sounded like a logistical nightmare.
Maybe it was because of overworking.
Maybe years of sleepless nights, endless stress, and corporate hell had beaten the concept of love out of him.
Or maybe…
Just maybe…
This was all still a dream.
His eyes darted to the blood surrounding him, the deep cracks in the earth, the crater he had made with his own body.
His hands—still stained with his own dried blood—shook.
No.
This was real.
His chest rose and fell, his breaths shaky.His fingers curled into tight fists, the warmth of his own skin grounding him in reality.And then—finally—one singular thought broke through the madness.
"…What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
....
Somewhere else at Shell Town,
A sudden, deafening boom shook the ground.
The tremor rippled through the town, rattling windows and sending birds scattering from the rooftops. People stumbled, gasping in shock, their heads snapping toward the source of the noise.
"What was that?!"
"An earthquake?"
"No way—something fell from the sky! I saw it!"
Panicked whispers filled the air as civilians gathered in the streets, pointing toward the distant horizon. A thick cloud of dust and smoke rose into the sky, marking the impact zone. Some claimed it was a bird—others, a meteor. But no one was sure.
For a moment, fear gripped the people. What if it was a disaster? What if another earthquake followed? What if something worse was coming?
But when the tremors didn't continue, relief slowly settled over the town. Whatever had happened, it was over.
Or so they thought.
...
Nearby, in the Marine Base Courtyard
The Marines stationed in the area were just as startled as the civilians.
White-uniformed men stood frozen for a moment, feeling the ground tremble beneath their boots. Some instinctively reached for their weapons, half-expecting a pirate attack or an ambush. Others exchanged confused glances, their faces twisted in unease.
"Was that… just an earthquake?" one marine asked, gripping his rifle.
"Maybe," another muttered. "Or maybe a fight broke out nearby. A powerful pirate?"
"Could be a meteor," a third marine suggested, his face pale. "I've heard of those falling from the sky sometimes…"
No one had a clear answer. They turned toward the horizon, watching the dark plume of smoke rising in the distance.
Whatever had happened, it wasn't normal.
...
Inside the Marine Base – Captain Morgan's Office.
A heavy, tense silence filled the dimly lit office.
Behind a large wooden desk, a towering figure sat, his chair creaking under his sheer size. The faint glow of candlelight flickered against his chiseled, arrogant face, casting shadows across his iron jaw—a permanent fixture that made him look even more menacing.
Captain "Axe-Hand" Morgan.
His broad chest was puffed out as always, his Marine coat draped over his shoulders like a king's mantle. His massive axe-hand rested against the desk, glinting under the candlelight. The man had an air of absolute authority, his expression twisted into its usual mix of superiority and disdain.
He hadn't flinched when the explosion shook the base. He had merely stared at the ceiling, as if irritated that such a disturbance would dare to happen on his watch.
A sharp knock on the door broke the silence.
"Enter."
A Marine officer stepped inside and saluted stiffly. "Captain Morgan, sir! Reports are coming in—an impact was detected not far from the town. Civilians and soldiers claim something fell from the sky."
Morgan slowly turned his head toward the officer, his cold eyes narrowing.
"Something fell from the sky?" he repeated, voice laced with skepticism.
"Y-Yes, sir," the Marine stammered. "Some are calling it a meteor, others believe it could be the result of a battle."
Morgan sneered. "Fools."
He leaned forward, his axe-hand scraping against the wood of his desk, leaving a deep gouge in its surface.
"Do you think a mere meteor would dare cause a disturbance under my jurisdiction?" he growled, his lips curling into a scowl. "This is my territory. Nothing happens here without my approval!"
The Marine officer swallowed nervously, his back straightening. "What are your orders, Captain?"
Morgan exhaled sharply through his nose, pushing himself to his feet.
"Send a unit to investigate immediately," he ordered. "If it's a pirate, they will learn to fear my justice." His grip tightened around his axe-hand, the blade gleaming. "And if it's something else… I will decide whether it lives or dies."
The officer nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir!" He turned on his heel and rushed out of the office.
Morgan stood still for a moment, his iron jaw clenching as he gazed toward the distant smoke.
Whatever had fallen…
It would soon learn who ruled this land.