The rain fell like shards of glass.
Blood mixed with the dirt beneath him — the man's breath shallow, his vision fading.
For the sixth time… he was dying.
His last life on Earth had been as a scientist. His legs were weak, his body frail, but his mind was unmatched.
He built wonders that could have changed the world, yet his teammates — the very people he trusted — stole his credit, his ideas, his dream.
And when his work was complete, they murdered him.
He smiled bitterly as his blood soaked into the ground.
"All my work… gone. Again."
The thunder stopped.
The world shattered like glass.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer on Earth.
---
The Waiting Line
He stood in a vast, endless plain wrapped in white light.
There was no sound — only the faint echo of countless footsteps.
Souls. Thousands of them.
Each one waiting in a single, unending line that stretched beyond sight.
He looked down at himself — no wounds, no pain, no heartbeat. Only silence.
"So… it's my turn again," he murmured.
Time didn't flow here. He didn't know how long he waited — days, years, or centuries.
But the line moved. At last ot is his turn came now.
At the end stood a massive gate made of pure gold. Symbols of light circled it like living stars.
From behind the gate came a voice — deep, ancient, and absolute.
It wasn't loud, yet its words carried the weight of creation itself. Every soul stopped breathing when it spoke.
This was The Rule — not a god, but the very law that governed life, death, and rebirth. Around it stood several radiant beings — gods of lesser rank, their light softer yet proud.
"Mortal number six," said The Rule, its tone like thunder beneath calm water.
"You have lived six lives… and wasted them all. You helped everyone, cared for everyone, and every time, you were betrayed. You failed to learn."
The man bowed his head.
"I know."
The Rule's light dimmed slightly, as if studying him. Then it continued,
"It is a tie again. You belong to neither the Upper Heaven nor the Middle. You stand between both realms — a soul that cannot rise and cannot fall. This is your last chance. Your final life will decide where you truly belong."
He stood still as memories flickered before him like shards of broken glass.
---
The Six Lives
The First Life
He had been born strong — muscles like iron, spirit like fire. But he could not hear.
The world was silent to him. No laughter, no wind, no music — not even his own heartbeat.
Yet he worked hard, helping everyone in his village: building homes, lifting stones, and guarding those weaker than him.
Because he could not hear lies, he believed every smile.
One night, his neighbor, jealous of his strength, came with a knife.
The man never heard the footsteps.
He died without a sound.
---
The Second Life
In the next life, he was born as a king's son.
When he met the gods of birth, he wished for wisdom — the power to understand the hearts of people.
For that, he sacrificed his hair.
Every strand fell like golden rain, leaving him bald and shining as a child.
He grew into a prince known for his calm mind and gentle nature. He ended wars, fed the poor, healed hatred with peace.
But the ministers whispered that he sought the throne.
The king, poisoned by lies, locked him in a dungeon.
He died there, alone and hungry.
His last words echoed in the darkness:
"I only wanted peace."
---
The Third Life
He was reborn as a farmer. Tired of war and lies, he asked for a simple life and strong arms — and sacrificed his voice.
He worked under the hot sun, kind and silent.
When a great flood came, he saved many villagers, pulling them from the rising water.
But in the end, the same people he rescued pushed him down to save themselves.
He drowned… while their screams filled the air..
None remembered,"the man who gave his life."
---
The Fourth Life
He was born blind this time, choosing to become a healer.
He wished for the power to cure all pain — and sacrificed his sight.
Though blind, he could feel the sickness of others as faint whispers in the air. He cured hundreds, perhaps thousands.
Even the queen called upon him when her life was in danger, and he saved her.
But people feared his gift. They called him cursed.
The same queen who once thanked him now ordered his death.
As the blade touched his neck, he smiled sadly.
"Even without eyes, I still see greed."
---
The Fifth Life
He was born in a city of thieves — poor, unwanted.
He wished for loyalty and sacrificed his name, unable to tell anyone who he was.
He protected orphans, stole food for the starving, fought against the corrupt.
But one day, the same children he saved betrayed him — selling him to the guards for a handful of gold.
As he bled on the cold ground, nameless and alone, he whispered,
"So loyalty itself betrayed me."
---
The Sixth Life
And then — the life of the scientist.
His body weak, his mind strong.
He asked for knowledge beyond imagination, and sacrificed his ability to feel joy.
He created wonders for mankind — machines that could heal, energy that could feed millions.
But his team, hungry for fame, stole his inventions, his dreams, his name.
When he tried to stop them, they killed him.
And that brought him back here — once more before The Rule.
---
The Final Bargain
The Rule's golden aura pulsed like a heartbeat.
"You see, mortal. You wished for strength, wisdom, peace, healing, loyalty, and knowledge.
Each gift demanded a sacrifice, not equal, but necessary. And still, you never learned to wish for yourself."
The man lowered his head. His voice trembled.
"Maybe… I was meant to lose. Maybe I was meant to understand suffering."
From the circle of gods, laughter rippled — light, mocking, playful.
One leaned forward, his aura blue as moonlight.
"He still talks like a saint after six miserable deaths."
Another, wings burning red, smirked.
"He's interesting, though. No greed left in him — only emptiness."
The Rule lifted its hand, and silence spread again.
"Mortal number six. You stand between Upper Heaven and Middle Heaven.
Now speak. What do you wish for… and what will you sacrifice?"
He stood quietly. His mind was empty, memories fading like dust in the wind.
"I need luck," he said at last.
"And I will sacrifice all memories of my past lives."
A stunned silence followed.
Then the gods laughed again — a sound like thunder and wind.
"Luck?" one mocked.
"A small wish for a broken soul."
"Maybe he wants a normal life," said another, smiling faintly.
The Rule's voice rolled over them like a storm.
"Silence."
Even laughter froze.
"Your wish is accepted," The Rule said. "But your sacrifice is not complete—it has only a little more than half. When it is fulfilled, you may ask anything from it."
The man thought deeply, then said,
"Then take my first twenty years of luck. Let me live unlucky until I turn twenty.
If I survive… let fortune find me again."
The golden light trembled.
"You are serious?"
"Yes," he answered. "I don't want fame or power. I just want a normal life. When it ends, I'll go to Middle Heaven—where I won't meet any of you or hold authority. I only wish to enjoy at least one peaceful life."
For a long while, no one spoke. The light seemed to think, as though Heaven itself was deciding his fate.
Then, The Rule's tone softened.
"Very well. The contract is sealed. You shall live again, cursed with misfortune until your twentieth year.
When the seal breaks, your true fate shall awaken. The laws of Heaven and Hell will reveal themselves to you."
A mark of light, shaped like a twisted ring, appeared around his soul.
The Rule's voice grew softer, almost thoughtful.
"Wait… I think this will be our last meeting," it said. "You will not return to the Upper Heaven, so we have decided to give you a small gift. Since you won't remember anything from your past lives, this mark will awaken when you turn twenty. It will remind you of the contract, the truths of Heaven and Hell, and the laws that bind them. Now go… and live your final life."
Another god spoke, stretching his wings lazily.
"This time, it won't be as fun," he said. "His power will be sealed, and without memory he'll live like a normal human. How boring."
---
Descent
Light burst beneath his feet. The golden plain vanished.
He began to fall — through clouds, through stars, through endless color.
As he fell, faint laughter echoed from above, fading like a dream.
He tried to speak, but no words came. His form turned smaller, lighter — until only a spark of soul remained.
Far away, a woman screamed in labor.
A child took its first breath.
The gods watched from the heavens.
"There he goes again," one murmured. "He never learns."
"Perhaps this time," whispered The Rule, "he finally will."
And as his soul disappeared into the mortal world, the golden realm fell silent.
Only the Leader's voice remained, calm and deep:
A few gods chuckled in agreement, but the great one—the Rule—fell silent, lost in thought.
It remembered the first time this soul had come here: full of kindness, full of hope. Everyone had used his goodness for their own gain, yet he never stopped helping.
And perhaps… that was why he still hadn't reached the Upper Heaven—
or maybe, the Rule thought, he had the potential to rise even higher than that.