The cold was absolute, not a physical cold that bites the skin and stiffens the joints, but the sterile, non-temperature of nothingness. Adam drifted, a formless consciousness in a landscape of pure, inky black. There was no up, no down, no sound, and no light—only the faint, pulsing echo of an agonizing moment that was, somehow, the most real thing he possessed.
A cacophony of shrieks and the smell of cheap perfume and desperate sweat. The air was thick with the frenzied desire for discount electronics. The sign above the store entrance, "MEGA BLACK FRIDAY DOORBUSTER DEAL!" glowed with maniacal promise. He had been a pioneer, an adventurer in the annual consumer pilgrimage, a man who woke up at 2 AM to secure a 75-inch 4K TV for 60% off.
"Clearance is life," he'd muttered to his reflection in the bus window, tightening the strap of his worn backpack. "And Black Friday is Valhalla."
He'd made it to the very front of the line. The doors were about to open. His heart hammered a rhythm of pure, unadulterated capitalism against his ribs. Then, a blur—not the orderly stampede he'd expected—but a desperate, feral charge from the side. Someone, a skinny kid with eyes wide and crazed, had decided to forgo the queue altogether.
"Cheater! Get in line!" Adam had yelled, stepping in the kid's path. The kid didn't stop. He hadn't seen the makeshift shiv—a sharpened screwdriver handle—until it was too late. A shocking, searing stab right into his abdomen, the kind of pain that steals your breath and floods your vision with white. Then, the floor rushing up to meet him, the sound of the metal security gate rolling up being the last thing he ever truly heard.
'Damn it,' was his final thought. 'I really wanted that TV.'
[The Present: The Unending Void]
Adam was no longer bleeding. He had no body to bleed from, which, he supposed, was a silver lining to the whole 'being dead' situation. The last memory was a loop: the screech of the door, the glint of the screwdriver, the searing pain, and the overwhelming disappointment about a television set.
He tried to focus. His name? Nothing. His age? A vague sense of 'mid-twenties.' Family? Friends? A job? His existence prior to the discount store had been wiped clean, leaving behind only the most immediate, traumatic event and, bizarrely, a comprehensive catalogue of his leisure activities.
He knew he was a fan of various media. He spent what felt like weeks—or perhaps mere moments, time was meaningless here—methodically recalling his favorites, a desperate attempt to reconstruct an identity from the ruins of his memory.
The Catalogue of Forgotten Worlds
Manga (The Sacred Texts):
One Piece
Attack on Titan
Chainsaw Man
Berserk
Vagabond
Anime (The Animated Classics):
Hunter x Hunter (2011)
Code Geass
Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Re:Zero
Jujutsu Kaisen
Novels/Web Novels (The Doorway to Endless Suffering and Power Fantasy):
Lord of the Mysteries
Solo Leveling
The Beginning After the End (TBATE)
Reverend Insanity
Worm
That was it. The entire, disappointing sum of his mortal life: a violent, consumer-driven death, and a long list of things he'd spent his disposable income and free time consuming.
He sighed, or at least, the formless echo of a sigh. "Well, that was a bust. I was either incredibly boring, or someone decided my life story was too embarrassing to upload to the cosmic servers."
He stopped trying to remember. The futility of the exercise was exhausting in a purely existential way. The blackness was just blackness. The quiet was just quiet. He was resigned to his fate, whatever form that eternal, non-violent waiting might take.
'So, this is the afterlife,' he mused. 'It's a bit minimalist, isn't it? No pearly gates, no fiery pits, just… high-quality sensory deprivation. Honestly, a solid 2 out of 10 stars on Yelp. Lacks ambiance.'
Then, a light.
It wasn't a gentle, welcoming light, or a terrifying, blinding light. It was a perfectly spherical, cool, platinum-white orb, about the size of a small car, that simply appeared ten feet in front of him. It hummed with the sound of a thousand forgotten radio stations tuning in simultaneously.
"Most remarkable," a voice echoed from the sphere, a voice that sounded like wind chimes made of polished quartz, impossibly cheerful and completely genderless. "Absolutely most remarkable."
Adam, who was currently a swirling, non-corporeal mass of disappointment, stilled.
"Hello," he projected, his thoughts forming the words. "Did I finally reach the customer service line for the universe? Because I have a complaint about my end-of-life experience. One star, would not die again."
The light orb shimmered, and the humming intensified. The voice chuckled—a clear, bell-like sound that seemed to vibrate his non-existent bones.
"A complaint! Oh, that's truly delicious! You died a violent, petty death over a discounted appliance, and yet, your first reaction is sarcasm and a calm assessment of the local decor. Most beings, even the ones I hand-pick, are usually weeping or attempting to bargain for resurrection."
"What's the point of weeping?" Adam asked, genuinely curious. "I'm dead. Crying isn't going to un-stab me. Besides," he added, a flicker of his old, dry wit returning, "If I'm this calm, it must be a residual trait from when I was alive. Maybe I was secretly a monk, or a very overworked middle manager who had simply run out of f**ks to give."
The sphere seemed to pulse with amusement. "A monk or a middle manager! Oh, darling Adam, you are a treat."
Adam paused. Adam. The name felt right. It was simple, and in a way, disappointingly generic, but it was his.
"So, I'm dead, then," he stated, though he already knew. "And you are... what, the cosmic equivalent of HR?"
"I am a being of higher designation," the voice corrected gently. "But you may call me whatever suits your limited comprehension. For the sake of expediency, let's go with... The Prize Coordinator."
"The Prize Coordinator," Adam repeated flatly. "That sounds like something you get for spending too much money at the arcade."
"Not quite!" The Coordinator's tone remained utterly joyful. "You see, Adam, you are quite the lucky soul. While your demise was tragically mundane, it occurred at a mathematically significant moment—a temporal convergence point, or as your people called it, '3:03 AM on Black Friday.' In short, you won a cosmic lottery just by dying on time."
Adam blinked (or conceptually blinked). "I won a prize for being shanked while trying to save $500? That's... genuinely surreal. What's the prize, a lifetime supply of screwdrivers?"
The Prize Coordinator's light swelled momentarily. "The prize is an opportunity. A rebirth. You are permitted to enter any fictional world you wish to be reincarnated into, and I am authorized to grant you a few random Boons to ensure you do not immediately perish upon arrival."
Adam's formless mass stopped its lazy rotation. The sheer audacity of the offer was jarring. Any world? The collected media of his entire forgotten life flashed before his inner eye.
"Wait," Adam said slowly. "There's always a catch. 'No catch' is always the catch. What is it?"
The Coordinator was silent for a beat. The humming lowered slightly, becoming a gentle, soothing drone.
"There is truly no catch, Adam. Not in the conventional sense. My role is to maintain the balance of the multiverse, and sending a lucky winner to a new reality to either flourish or fail is a harmless, low-energy expenditure. You are a random variable, a cosmic scratch-off ticket. Your existence, whether glorious or short-lived, is simply entertaining data for my superiors. That is the 'catch': you are a spectator sport for omnipotent beings. But for you? You receive all the benefits, free of charge."
Adam processed that. Being an insect in a cosmic drama was still better than being an ex-insect in a black void.
"Okay," he conceded. "A very honest sales pitch, I'll give you that. So, I choose a world. And I get random boons. Give me a minute to think."
The Coordinator patiently waited, the white light radiating calm.
Adam scrolled through his mental catalogue. One Piece? Too much swimming. Berserk? Absolutely not. Lord of the Mysteries? Too complex, too much potential for madness. Solo Leveling? The system was good, but the world was kind of vanilla until the Rulers showed up.
Then, his gaze settled on his own personal favorite: The Beginning After the End (TBATE).
"I've decided," Adam announced. "I choose the world of The Beginning After the End."
"Ah, a fine choice! A blend of traditional fantasy, cultivation, and political intrigue," the Coordinator approved. "And what age do you wish to enter the cycle of reincarnation at?"
"I want to be born at the same time as the main character, Arthur Leywin," Adam stated. "I'm not looking to steal his thunder, but I want to be in the same sandbox as him for maximum interaction potential. Start from zero, fresh and new."
"Consider it done," the Coordinator sang. "Now, for the random Boons. This is the fun part!"
Suddenly, a massive, spectral wheel materialized around the spherical being. It was impossibly huge, its edges fading into the blackness, and it spun slowly, listing incredible, reality-defying powers in glowing, arcane script.
Adam looked at the fifteen options. They were ridiculously overpowered, capable of reshaping worlds and defying universal laws.
The Wheel of Unfathomable Power
Gamer's Mind/Body (The System): Full-service interface, stats, inventory, and quest log.
Omni-Knowledge (Akashic Records Access): Ability to instantly access and comprehend any known fact or magic in the current universe.
The Six Eyes and Limitless (Jujutsu Kaisen): Complete mastery over space and energy manipulation.
Almighty (My Hero Academia): Ability to reshape reality, future, and past through intention.
Path of God (Custom): Full conceptual control over a single domain (e.g., Fire, Space, Time, etc.).
Apex Predation (Custom): Ability to analyze and consume the power/essence of anything killed, gaining its abilities.
Conceptual Immortality (Custom): Existence is tied to the concept of Self; impossible to truly erase.
Cosmic Authority (Marvel/DC): Access to a fraction of the power of a major cosmic entity.
True Magic: Operation (Fate/Type-Moon): Mastery over one of the five True Magics (e.g., denial of parallel worlds).
The One-Above-All's Blessings (Custom): Unconditional plot armor and guaranteed success in any major goal.
Tower of Anime/Manga/Novel (Custom): Access to a personalized, inter-dimensional combat challenge structure. (See below for details)
The Emperor's Gift (Warhammer 40K): Psychic potential bordering on godhood and incorruptible soul/mind.
Skill Creation (Custom): Ability to instantly manifest any skill or ability seen or conceptualized, though the cost must be paid.
Multiversal Travel (Custom): Innate ability to hop to any fictional reality once every decade.
The Ultimate Shield/Spear (Custom): Total invulnerability to physical/magical harm, and the ability to pierce any defense.
"These are... strong," Adam commented, trying to sound casual about the fact that he was about to potentially gain the power to erase existence.
"They are designed to be, Adam," the Coordinator replied. "Otherwise, what's the fun? Give it a good spin, dear boy. A good life or a bad life? Let the Fates decide!"
Adam felt a surge of energy that wasn't his own, a ghostly limb extending from his consciousness. He shoved it against the massive wheel. It groaned, a sound like grinding tectonic plates, and began to spin at a terrifying speed, the glowing names blurring into a white streak.
One. Two. Three. Four... The wheel slowly, agonizingly, ground to a halt.
It landed squarely on number 11: Tower of Anime/Manga/Novel (Custom).
"Ooh! An interesting one! A hybrid!" the Coordinator exclaimed, a note of genuine surprise in its voice. "The Tower of Anime/Manga/Novel. This is a system-based boon, and one of the most flexible."
"A Tower, huh?" Adam pondered. "Like a dungeon, but taller?"
"Precisely," the Coordinator affirmed. "As the name suggests, this is a pocket-dimension-based combat structure—a Tower, with distinct floors. The key feature, however, is that each 'arc' or set of floors is themed after a piece of media from your old life. For example, your first twenty floors might be Jujutsu Kaisen themed. You will be placed in scenarios, fighting enemies, and completing objectives relevant to that world."
"And the prize for completion?" Adam prompted.
"After clearing a certain number of floors—say, twenty—you will receive an Ability Card," the Coordinator explained. "This card belongs to a character from the theme. If your theme was Jujutsu Kaisen, you might receive a character card of Gojo Satoru. You don't get his full power instantly. No, that would be boring."
The sphere seemed to glow brighter, its light taking on a playful intensity.
"Instead, the card appears as a template on your soul, and you must assimilate it. As you complete more floors, gain power, and maybe even take specific actions that align with the character's abilities, the percentage of assimilation increases. At 100%, you fully gain that character's key abilities, powers, and even unique traits. For the Gojo example, upon full assimilation, you would gain both the Limitless technique and the Six Eyes."
Adam absorbed this information. It wasn't an instant-win button like the Almighty, but it was a structured, long-term power progression path that rewarded effort and skill. It was a system.
"That's... actually brilliant," Adam admitted. "It's fair, it's interesting, and it prevents me from just becoming a God on day one and ruining the story. I like it. A lot."
"I knew you would," the Coordinator said, its voice smugly satisfied. "And as a small complimentary bonus—a perk of winning the Tower—you get two free starting Ability Cards. Not too strong, mind you, or it defeats the purpose, but enough to give you a head start."
"I get to choose them?" Adam asked.
"You do. Choose carefully."
Adam thought quickly. He needed power that was useful immediately, but wouldn't interfere with the TBATE world's innate mana system too much. He needed versatility and utility.
"Okay," he declared after a short silence. "For my first card, I'll take Yoriichi Tsugikuni from Demon Slayer."
The Coordinator made a sound like a surprised harp. "Yoriichi? A peculiar choice. A character of sheer physical and spiritual mastery with no explicit 'magic' system outside of his techniques but true "talant". Very well. What about the second?"
"For the second, I'll take Fushiguro Megumi from Jujutsu Kaisen."
"Megumi? The Ten Shadows Technique? A versatile summoning ability, I approve! And not overpowered at all," the Coordinator remarked. "A strategic mind, Adam. Physical excellence and tactical summoning with great "potential". Excellent choices. Those two cards shall serve as your foundation."
A shimmer of white light condensed beside Adam's formless being. Two stylized, glowing cards materialized. One depicted a solemn-looking swordsman bathed in sunlight, the other a sharp-eyed boy flanked by shadows.
"Now, the final stage: Reincarnation Setup," the Coordinator announced. "You must choose your race for this world."
"Do I get to choose where I'm born or is it race bound?" Adam asked.
"you may chose, Adam but,The racial selection is simply to ensure your body can utilize the powerful abilities you will be assimilating in the future."
"Then I want to be a Djinn Dragon Hybrid," Adam stated. The Djinn and Dragons were the two most powerful races in the TBATE world, famous for their unique,magic and raw mana power, respectively. Being a hybrid of both was a massive gamble, but also a massive reward.
"A truly ambitious selection," the Coordinator mused. "But feasible. Your body will be a custom-made vessel to handle cursed energy, Aether and Mana energies, and potentially, your future unique energy types. And your physical form?"
"I want to be born in my Human Form," Adam replied. "No scales or horns, at least not visibly. I want to look like a normal kid, just with better genetics."
"Done. A Human-Passing Djinn Dragon Hybrid," the Coordinator confirmed. "And finally, your initial point of birth? I can place you anywhere within the continent of Dicathen."
Adam grinned, a concept-grin that mirrored his old self. He needed to be close to the main action, the place where all the smart, powerful people gathered.
"I want to be born in or near Xyrus City," he decreed. "The capital of the entire kingdom. If I'm going to be a Djinn Dragon Hybrid, I want access to the best libraries and magic academies the minute I can crawl."
"Xyrus City it is," the Coordinator finished with a triumphant bell-ring. "Your template is complete, Adam. Your prize is secured."
The two ability cards floated closer to Adam's formless self. Instinctively, he reached out, and his consciousness flowed over the cards. They didn't feel like paper, but like solid, glowing thought. As they merged into his being, a transparent, glowing status window—a template—snapped into existence within his mind.
[name:none
Race:Djinn/Dragon Hybrid
Templates:
[Yoriichi Tsugikuni: Ability Card Assimilation: 0%]
[Fushiguro Megumi: Ability Card Assimilation: 0%]
]
"The templates are active," the Coordinator said. "Your final boon: I will further enhance your soul and core structure. You will be capable of handling and mixing multiple energy types—Mana, Aether, and whatever else the Tower brings. You may even create your own unique energy one day. This will be the only time I interfere with your core structure directly."
The humming of the platinum sphere grew deafeningly loud, filling the void with a white-hot, soothing energy. Adam felt an unimaginable pressure on his consciousness, and then a profound, deep sense of peace. His non-existent core was being refined, hardened, and made flexible.
"It is time," the Coordinator stated, the immense light beginning to pull at Adam's essence like a cosmic vacuum. "Have a good life, Adam. Don't die so quickly this time."
The name—Adam—was the last conscious thing he heard. The pain from the screwdriver, the frustration over the TV, the vastness of the black void, and the cheerful voice of the Coordinator—it all dissolved into a singular, rushing white noise. He was being accelerated, pulled through a tunnel of light and speed toward a new world.
'Wait, my name… was Adam,' he thought, a sense of profound relief washing over him. It wasn't much, but it was his. The first puzzle piece.
The thought brought with it a wry, triumphant smile, the last act of a dead man being reborn.
.............................
Adam was gone. The platinum sphere of the Prize Coordinator remained for a brief moment, its light dimming back to a gentle hum.
"A Djinn Dragon Hybrid born in Xyrus with a Tower of Power," the Coordinator murmured to itself. "He's either going to save that world or accidentally vaporize it. Either way, it will be spectacular television should i invite the others like last time.?"
[END OF CHAPTER]