"Alright, I will be home as soon as possible."
A man sped along the road in his car. He accelerated even more after hearing what was on the phone despite having turned the phone off just moments before. His flushed face, unfocused eyes, and the occasional half-closed blink clearly revealed that he was extremely intoxicated.
"Rizzzz...."
The ringtone suddenly echoed once again. The man accidentally dropped his phone, then bent down to retrieve it. With great difficulty, he managed to pick it up and answered without checking who was calling.
However, when he turned his gaze back toward the road, his eyes widened as he saw the sign ahead: "ROAD UNDER CONSTRUCTION." He didn't have the time to stop or even jerk the steering wheel; his car ultimately rammed through the warning barrier and collided with a heavy construction vehicle.
Unluckily, the man wasn't wearing his seatbelt. As a result, he was flung through the windshield and landed in a heap on a pile of fresh, wet cement. Whether by chance or due to the deserted area, there wasn't a single soul around.
This incident trapped him in a considerably deep mass of cement, akin to a quicksand slowly engulfing his body. Powerless, his entire body felt overwhelmingly heavy especially his head, which throbbed with an intense pain. Gradually, his vision faded until he finally succumbed to numbness.
(Author's note: Just a sacrificial pawn for the project ;-D)
The man's name was Rocky. He was an ordinary man with an ordinary life—like most people striving to achieve their dreams. In his day-to-day existence, he worked as a "corporate slave," much like so many others.
However, his death would ultimately bring forth something that set him apart from the lives of most humans.
Beyond the inherent kindness that shone from within him, Rocky was also known as an avid comic and novel enthusiast. Although he wasn't extreme, his friends often teased him by calling him a "WIBU" and the like.
Under the pressure of work, he had once accepted invitations from friends to blow off steam, and it was during one such outing that he got drunk and vented all the anguish in his heart.
Unbeknownst to him, the words he uttered—though spontaneous—seemed to be a prayer sent directly to the Almighty. Rocky's words were:
"...I WANT TO BE FREE FROM THIS LIFE!!! I NO LONGER WANT TO LIVE IN THIS CHAOTIC WORLD! I'M FED UP!! IF THERE IS REINCARNATION, I WANT LIBERATION. EVEN IF I WAS CREATED BY THE HAND OF THE ALMIGHTY, I WILL LIVE AS I PLEASE!!! EVEN IF I AM NOT BORN AS A LIVING BEING!!!..."
In a baffling twist of the universe's design, those words were granted like an answered prayer—and, in that very moment, Rocky lost his life.
Now, Rocky could feel nothing at all. He tried to open his eyes, but to no avail. Nor could he sense his limbs—yet, gradually, he began to perceive something.
First, he felt a strange lightness, as if he were floating. Moments later, a gust of wind emerged from the void, propelling him to move forward.
Along with the breath of wind came a sensation of stiffness and the oppressive weight of a solid object compressing his body. Bit by bit, he started to regain the feeling in his limbs—from his head, neck, and chest, to his arms and waist.
Although something continuously hindered his movements, an instinctive force pushed him to make a determined effort to move. With all his might, he willed his heavy fingertips to budge.
Suddenly, a sound echoed: "Brack... crack... browl...."—the breaking noise of stones and earth as parts of his body shifted.
Shortly after, a loud voice greeted him, exclaiming: "YAY!!... MASTER. LOOK, MASTER... MY CREATION IS A HUGE SUCCESS!!" accompanied by rapidly retreating footsteps.
Rocky frantically searched in all directions, but all he encountered was darkness. His eyes seemed to have lost their functionality, for even as he was aware of their presence, he felt utterly blind.
Soon, it wasn't only his vision that was impaired. His mouth could no longer produce any sound except for a rough, scratchy noise, reminiscent of stone rubbing against stone.
"What is this?! Where are all... the skin, the legs, the nose?!" he muttered in despair as he groped at his body, which now felt rigid and rock-like.
He surmised that his body now consisted solely of a head, a chest, and an abdomen—as per the human form—but he was unsure whether he still resembled a human at all or had transformed completely.
Finally, Rocky collapsed onto the ground, struggling to comprehend the unfolding events. Clutching his throbbing head, he sensed something amiss. Instead of feeling a smooth, rounded skull, his hand encountered an irregular and harsh surface.
"Wait!!! What is this?! Why is my head... like this? What sin have I committed to deserve this fate?!" he cried out in panic.
Although unable to see himself, he was aware that his head had morphed into a crude, unplanned shape. When he touched his face, he only felt two holes at the top and a long scratch at the bottom—perhaps what he believed were his eyes and mouth.
"What is happening?! Why have I become like this? What sin have I committed to warrant such a punishment?" he sobbed, curling up in helpless despair.
At the lowest point of his turmoil, two steps away, a small, girlish voice rang out playfully:
"LOOK, MASTER!! This time, my experiment is a resounding success!"
The voice was promptly answered by an elderly man, known as "Master":
"Ahem... That successful? Don't lie! You may be skilled in magic, but what about your alchemy? I have my doubts."
With a proud chuckle, the little girl retorted, "Hehe, I used my own magic to measure and control everything in my alchemy, and it worked perfectly!"
The old man was taken aback, "Wait! You employed magic directly, instead of using your own hands?!"
"Hmph, why? Isn't success what really matters... Look over there!" he said while pointing at something that, surprisingly, revealed nothing.
Meanwhile, Rocky, now leaning against a wall, accidentally nudged something that produced a loud clatter.
"Ah... a rat!" the young girl shrieked as she tossed some random objects.
Soon, the old man quelled the panic, "Look closely... what is that? Is that what you created?"
The little girl quickly shifted her demeanor, "Oh... hehe, sorry! But, indeed! Look, Master, it's my golem creation! Isn't it awesome?!"
"WHAT, A GOLEM?! HAVE I BECOME A GOLEM?!" roared Rocky, as though bearing witness to the bizarre transformation of his own being.