Rain hammered the pavement like a funeral drum, cold and relentless. The city streets blurred beneath the downpour, headlights streaking through the night. Seventeen-year-old Kaito Ren didn't mind. He never liked the sun much anyway.
Umbrella-less and soaked to the bone, he walked home from yet another part-time shift, his backpack sagging with soaked notebooks. Another long day, another low paycheck. Life, he often mused, had a strange sense of humor—he worked harder than most, but was rewarded the least.
At the pedestrian crossing, the red light blinked lazily. He waited, though no cars came. The wind howled as if trying to warn him. He took a cautious step forward.
Then came the flash of headlights.
Screech.
Pain.
And silence.
He woke not to sirens or the scent of antiseptic but to stillness. He wasn't cold anymore. He wasn't wet. In fact, he wasn't even standing. Kaito floated—or existed—in a strange, endless white void. There was no sky, no ground, just brightness without warmth.
"…Am I dead?" he muttered aloud.
"That would be correct."
The voice that answered was neither loud nor soft, neither male nor female. It simply was. A figure appeared before him—vague, shifting, unformed, as if the void itself decided to speak.
"Who… are you?"
"I go by many names. God, the Overseer, the Administrator, the One Beyond the Veil. But for simplicity's sake, you may call me… well, let's go with God. It's what your kind tends to prefer."
Kaito blinked. This couldn't be real. Maybe he hit his head. Maybe he was hallucinating.
"I'm really… dead?" he repeated.
The figure tilted its head—or gave the impression of doing so.
"Yes. Hit by a truck. Not the most elegant end, but hardly uncommon. Your death was instantaneous. You felt no pain."
Kaito opened his mouth, closed it, then let out a shaky laugh. "Of course. Truck-kun strikes again."
God chuckled. "You mortals really do love that phrase."
Kaito took a breath, steadying himself. "So what now? Do I go to heaven? Reincarnate as a dog? Or is this where you judge me for skipping morning prayers?"
God's voice turned contemplative. "None of those. You, Kaito Ren, have been chosen."
"…Chosen? For what?"
"To be reborn. In another world."
Kaito stared. "Wait… you're serious?"
"I am always serious."
"Why me?"
"You have no great achievements. You lived without malice but without purpose. You died young, your soul unburdened by deep regret or ambition. In a way, you are… malleable. A blank slate. And that makes you perfect for the task."
Kaito frowned. "What task?"
"To live again. In a world unlike your own. A world of magic, of beasts and blades, of kingdoms rising and crumbling. You will be given a chance to shape yourself as you were never able to in your previous life."
"…So, like an isekai?"
"Yes. Precisely like that."
Kaito gave a soft laugh. "I used to read those. Always thought it was a fun fantasy. Never expected to star in one."
God's voice softened. "You may treat this as a gift… or a test. You may become a hero, a tyrant, a forgotten wanderer. It is up to you."
"Do I get any powers?"
A pause. Then:
"Yes."
Kaito's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"You will be granted one gift. One unique ability—based not on luck, but your soul's nature. I will not choose it. You will."
The void shimmered. Before Kaito, a circle appeared, inscribed with countless glowing runes. The air hummed with potential.
"Step forward. Place your hand in the center. Your desire will shape your gift."
Heart pounding, Kaito stepped forward. The circle pulsed, reacting to his presence. He thought of everything—his helplessness in the old world, the loneliness, the frustration of being powerless. If he was getting a second chance, he didn't want to waste it.
He placed his hand on the circle.
A rush of wind surged through the void. Symbols blazed. A voice—not God's—whispered directly into his soul.
"You have chosen: Echo."
"Echo?" Kaito asked.
God spoke again. "An ability rooted in memory. You will be able to replicate any technique, skill, or ability you witness, provided you understand its principle. But more than that… your echoes may evolve. Improve. You are not a simple copycat. You are a mirror that learns."
Kaito's mind raced. "So… I can learn magic if I see it? Swordsmanship too?"
"Eventually. Understanding takes time. Witnessing alone is not enough. But yes, that is the essence of your gift."
A thrill coursed through him. This was more than he hoped for.
"One final question," God said, "before your rebirth. What kind of life do you seek in this new world?"
Kaito hesitated. In his old life, he hadn't thought far ahead. He drifted. Now, he had a chance to define himself. He looked up, eyes determined.
"I want… to live freely. Not to be controlled by others. I want strength—not to dominate, but to choose. To walk my own path."
God was silent for a moment, then said, "A noble goal. But freedom often comes at a cost."
"I'll pay it," Kaito said without hesitation.
"So be it."
The void trembled. Light gathered around him like fireflies, swirling, brightening.
"This world is called Elyndra. You will awaken in a remote village near its borderlands. The world is vast and cruel—but it is also beautiful. And it is yours to explore."
The light became blinding. Kaito shielded his eyes.
"Live well, Kaito Ren."
His name echoed once—then silence.
The first thing he felt was pain. Then… cold. Then the scent of earth and grass.
Kaito opened his eyes.
Above him stretched a blue sky with twin suns. In the distance, mountains cut into the horizon. Birds—ones he'd never seen before—sang songs that stirred something ancient.
He sat up slowly.
Clothes unfamiliar. Body… younger, maybe fifteen. A satchel beside him with basic supplies: food, water, a knife, and a parchment with unfamiliar writing.
Kaito stood.
The adventure had begun.