Cedric opened his eyes.
He expected darkness. He expected the crushing weight of nothingness. Or maybe, if the stories were true, fire and brimstone for the sinner.
Instead, there was white.
Endless, blinding, featureless white.
He sat up. His movement was weightless, stripped of the heavy, aching fatigue that had burdened his bones for twenty-two years. He patted the ground. It felt solid, smooth like glass, but warm to the touch, humming with a faint, low vibration.
He looked down at himself.
No blood. No mud. No soot. No cheap, ill-fitting polyester suit from his data-entry job.
He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and loose linen trousers. His feet were bare and clean. The calluses on his fingers from years of typing were gone. The scar above his eye from the stone Mark threw was gone.
'Am I dead?'
The thought didn't bring fear. It didn't bring relief. It just floated there, a simple observation in a quiet mind.
'Is this it? Just... white?'
He stood up. There was no horizon. No sky. No floor. Just a uniform, infinite brightness that didn't hurt his eyes. He took a step. His bare foot made no sound.
He walked. He didn't know how long he walked. Time didn't exist here. It could have been a minute; it could have been a millennium. He walked not because he was looking for something, but because his body remembered the habit of movement.
Eventually, he stopped. He sat back down.
'This is fine.' he thought.
'It's quiet. Nobody is yelling. Nobody is dying. A perfect place to rest.'
He closed his eyes, ready to spend eternity in the blankness.
Then, the silence broke.
BWOOOP.
A sound like a computer shutting down, amplified by a stadium speaker.
A door appeared.
It didn't fade in, it slammed into existence about ten meters away.
It was a heavy, polished mahogany door, standing upright in the middle of nowhere, attached to no wall, leading to no building. It had a brass handle that gleamed with an impossible luster.
Cedric stared at it.
He felt no urge to open it. He felt no curiosity. He considered just turning his back on it and going back to his nap.
But then, the handle jiggled.
Click.
The door swung open inward, revealing not the white void, but a swirling, chaotic vortex of velvet darkness inside.
For a long moment, Cedric didn't move. He just looked at the dark.
Then he sighed, a sound that swallowed itself in the silence. He stood up and walked through the door.
…
…
…
BOOM!
CRACK!
FIZZ!
The transition was instantaneous and violent.
Confetti exploded in his face—glittering gold and silver strips that stuck to his eyelashes.
Trumpets blared a triumphant, deafening fanfare from invisible speakers that seemed to be located inside his own skull.
Dazzling lights—neon pink, electric blue, strobing gold—blinded him momentarily.
"CONGRATULATIONS!" a voice boomed, echoing from everywhere and nowhere, dripping with synthetic enthusiasm.
"YOU ARE OUR 696,969th GUEST!!!"
Cedric blinked, brushing glitter out of his hair. The world had transformed. He wasn't in a void anymore.
He was in... a casino?
It was a chaotic, opulent assault on the senses. Slot machines ching-chinged in the background, a ceaseless waterfall of chips. Velvet ropes cordoned off areas he couldn't see, obscured by drifting cigar smoke that smelled of vanilla and ozone. The carpet was a nauseating pattern of red and gold swirls.
And in the center of it all, sitting behind a semicircular green felt table that seemed to float in the nebula-like room, was a man.
He was... sharp. That was the only word for him.
He wore a suit that seemed to be woven from midnight blue silk, cut so perfectly it looked like a second skin. His shirt was crisp white, his tie a slash of blood red. His hair was slicked back, black and shiny as oil.
But it was his face that drew the eye. Or rather, his eyes. They were narrow, like slits cut into a porcelain mask, sparkling with a mirth that didn't look entirely safe. He had the kind of smile that a fox might give a chicken right before dinner—charming and dangerous.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" the man said, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace Cedric from across the table.
"Please, don't hover! Take a seat! We've been holding the table for you!"
Cedric didn't move. He stood amidst the falling confetti, his face a blank mask of indifference.
"Who are you?" Cedric asked. His voice was flat, cutting through the manic energy of the room like a dull knife.
"Ah, straight to business. No small talk. I like that." the man chuckled.
He picked up a deck of cards from the felt. He shuffled them with one hand, the cards dancing between his long, spider-like fingers with impossible speed, making a sound like rushing water.
"I go by many names. The Architect. The Gatekeeper. The Manager. But here?" He gestured around at the neon madness. "Here, you can call me The Dealer. I manage the... transition. I handle the VIPs. The lucky souls who get a second chance at the table of existence."
He leaned forward, his narrow eyes glinting. "And you, Cedric, are very lucky. Guest number 696,969! A very auspicious number. A palindrome of fate!"
"I'm dead." Cedric stated. It wasn't a question.
"A minor technicality!" The Dealer waved a hand dismissively. "Flesh fails. Bodies break. Rib cages crush. Very messy, very fragile. But the soul? The soul is currency, kid. And yours? Yours just hit the jackpot."
He snapped his fingers.
Snap.
A comfortable, high-backed leather chair materialized behind Cedric, hitting him in the back of the knees.
"Please take a sit. And let's talk about prize."
Cedric sat, mostly because his legs felt strange, not because he wanted to obey. He looked at the green felt. He looked at the man's rictus grin.
"What's prize?" Cedric repeated.
"It's life!" The Dealer proclaimed, throwing his hands up as pyrotechnics sparked behind him.
"A new one! A better one! You get to go back, spin the wheel, and start over. New world. New opportunities. New body—one that isn't malnourished, I might add. Maybe even some... perks. Cheat skills, if you want. Most souls would die again for this chance."
The Dealer leaned back, looking satisfied, waiting for the gratitude. Waiting for the excitement.
Cedric looked at him. He felt the emptiness in his chest where his heart used to be.
"No." Cedric said.
The slot machines seemed to quiet down. The lights stopped strobing.
The Dealer blinked. His smile didn't falter, but it froze for a millisecond, like a video buffering.
"I beg your pardon?" The Dealer asked, tilting his head.
"I said no." Cedric said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "I don't want it."
The Dealer let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"You... don't want it? Kid, do you understand what I'm offering? I'm offering you a do-over. You lived a... let's be honest, a crap life. A tragedy conga line. Orphanage. Bullying. Dead puppy. Dead mom. Dead you. It was a zero-star experience. And I'm literally offering you a five-star upgrade!"
"I'm tired." Cedric said, looked at his hands. "I just want to stop. I want to go back to the white room. Or the dark. Or just... nothing."
The Dealer sighed, a long, theatrical exhalation. He dropped the cards onto the table.
"Boring." The Dealer muttered to himself. "It's always the boring cases. They have no imagination."
He looked at Cedric, his expression shifting from manic host to something sharper, more analytical.
"Look, Cedric. I get it. You had a bad run. But you're young! Twenty or some shits? That's nothing! You have so much potential! Think of what you could do. Think of the fun you could have! You could be a king! A wizard! A Jedi! You could have bitches! Or gays! Or aliens! Or even become a girl to fuck other man! Whatever you're into!"
"Fun." Cedric repeated the word like it was a foreign language he couldn't quite translate. "Life isn't fun. Life is just... weird. You live, lose everything. And then you die."
He looked up at The Dealer, his purple eyes dead and flat.
"Why would I want to do that again?"
The Dealer stared at him. He drummed his fingers on the felt table.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"You really are fucked up, aren't you?" he murmured. It wasn't said unkindly. It was said with a clinical fascination, like a mechanic looking at an engine that had been run without oil for ten years.
Then, the grin snapped back into place, sharper this time.
"But that's what makes you interesting! Listen to me, kid. I can't just let you fade. It's bad for business. I don't like wasting. And you? You're a lot of wasted potential. You have a very... durable soul. Very rare."
"I don't care." Cedric said. He stood up. "Where's the exit?"
The Dealer's eyes narrowed. The air in the casino grew heavy. The lights dimmed, turning a menacing shade of crimson.
"Sit down, Cedric." The Dealer said. His voice wasn't loud, but it resonated in Cedric's bones. It was a voice of command.
Cedric didn't want to sit. But his legs obeyed. He sat.
"You think 'Nothing' is peace?" The Dealer asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think the Void is a nice, warm nap? You think you just close your eyes and drift away?"
The Dealer leaned over the table. His face seemed to shift, the shadows lengthening.
"The Void is solitary confinement for eternity, Cedric. It is consciousness without sensation. It is thinking, for a billion years, with nothing to distract you. You will replay every mistake. You will hear every scream. You will see that puppy dying, over and over and over again. And you will see your mother burning in that f*cking car, because you will have nothing else to look at."
Cedric flinched. It was the first reaction he had shown.
"You want peace?" The Dealer hissed. "Peace is expensive. Oblivion—true oblivion, where you simply cease to exist, that costs extra. You haven't earned that yet. You haven't lived enough to earn a retirement."
Cedric gripped the arms of the leather chair. "So I'm a prisoner?"
"You're an investment." The Dealer corrected, the lights brightening back to a cheerful gold. He leaned back, relaxing. "And investments need to grow."
He spread his hands. "So, here is the deal. The real deal. No sales pitch."
"You go back. You go to a new world. You don't have to be a hero. You don't have to save the world. You don't even have to be happy. I'm not asking you to skip through meadows singing songs."
The Dealer smirked.
"You just have to... exist. Be a variable. Make some noise. Survive. And if, after a lifetime—say, sixty or seventy years—you still hate it? If you still think it's all pointless?"
The Dealer pulled a single, black poker chip from thin air and tossed it onto the table. It landed with a heavy thud.
"Then I will give you Oblivion. I will erase you perfectly. No pain. No memory. Just true, absolute nothing. That is my promise."
Cedric stared at the black chip.
True silence. No memories. No replaying the fire. No replaying the pain.
"Why?" Cedric asked. "Why do you care if I go back?"
The Dealer smiled. It was a different smile this time. Less shifty, more... something else. Something sadder.
"Let's just say I have a soft spot for stubborn cases." he said vaguely. "Do we have an accord?"
Cedric looked at the chip, then he looked at the Dealer.
He didn't want to live. He was tired. But the threat of the Void—of thinking about Milu and his mom forever—was worse.
And the promise of the end... that was a good prize.
"Fine." Cedric said. "One life. Then you erase me."
"Excellent!" The Dealer clapped his hands, the sound like a gunshot.
"That's the spirit! Or, well, the apathy! I'll take it!"
He swept his hand over the table. The cards vanished.
In their place, the table dissolved and reformed into a massive, ornate Roulette wheel. It spun horizontally, glowing with magical energy.
But instead of numbers, the slots were filled with shifting, holographic images.
A land with dragons.
A spaceship battle.
A devil high school with Romcom setting.
A post-apocalyptic wasteland.
"Now for the fun part!" The Dealer announced, rubbing his hands together. "The Destination. Where will our little lost soul end up? The algorithm chooses based on your... vibration. Your resonance."
He grabbed the edge of the wheel.
"Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows!"
He spun it.
The wheel blurred. It became a kaleidoscope of colors—neon greens, blood reds, deep blues. It hummed with power.
Cedric watched it with disinterest. He didn't care where he went. Hell was hell, no matter the wallpaper.
Slowly, the wheel began to decelerate.
Click... click... click...
It slowed. It passed a generic fantasy world. It passed a cyberpunk city. It passed a pirate ship.
Click... click...
It stopped.
The image that settled under the golden pointer was not a peaceful meadow.
It was a city. But not a normal city.
It was a sprawling, chaotic, retro-futuristic metropolis. Neon lights clashed with gritty concrete. Massive construction machinery towered over noodle shops.
And in the background of the image, the sky was fractured. Black, spherical voids hung in the air like holes in reality, distorting the space around them. Inside those holes, Cedric could see monsters—creatures that looked like static and TV noise given form.
[World: Zenless Zone Zero]
The Dealer whistled, a low, appreciative sound.
"Ooh! ZZZ. Interesting choice. Very... active."
He looked at Cedric.
"A world living on top of a catastrophe. It's chaotic. It's dangerous. It's full of people trying to live normal lives while the apocalypse eats their neighbors."
The Dealer grinned. "And it's filled with monsters born from corruption. I think you'll fit right in, Cedric. It's a world for you."
Cedric looked at the image. The black spheres. The Hollows.
"Okay." he said.
"Just 'okay'?" The Dealer laughed. "Such a tough guy."
"Hold your horses~" The Dealer said, tapped his finger on the table just as Cedric was about to stand up.
"We're not done yet~ You can't go to a world full of monsters naked. Well, metaphorically naked. That would be suicide, and while I know you're fond of the concept, it's bad for my ratings."
He snapped his fingers again. The image of New Eridu on the Roulette wheel dissolved, replaced by a new set of icons.
"Round Two! The Power Set! What tools will you get to survive the chaos?"
He grabbed the edge of the wheel and spun it again with even more vigor.
WHOOSH.
The wheel blurred into a rainbow of potential.
"Will it be Super Strength? Pervert? The ability to turn into a Dragon? Or maybe something useless like 'Talk to Fish'?"
Cedric watched the spinning colors. He truly didn't care. If he got laser eyes, he'd probably just use them to heat up instant noodles.
Click... click... click...
The wheel slowed.
It passed a glowing sword icon. It passed a book of magic spells. It passed a cybernetic arm.
Click.
It stopped on a strange icon: A red and white sphere with a button in the center.
[Ability: Pokémon Trainer System]
The Dealer blinked. He leaned in closer to inspect the icon, his eyebrows shooting up towards his slicked-back hairline.
"Well, well, well..." he murmured, a strange mix of amusement and nostalgia in his voice. "Now that... that is a classic. A bit out of place for a cyberpunk apocalypse, don't you think? But then again, fighting monsters with monsters? It's poetic."
He looked at Cedric with a grin that was almost genuine.
"You got a good one, kid. You're not going to be the one punching the monsters. You're going to be the one commanding them. A Manager. Just like me."
He reached into the wheel and plucked the icon out. It transformed into the small, glowing golden orb he had held before.
"This isn't just power." The Dealer said softy, weighing the orb in his hand. "It's responsibility. It's connection. It's... family."
He tossed the orb towards Cedric.
"Don't lose it."
Then he raised his hand. The air around Cedric began to shimmer and distort, pixelating like a bad signal.
"Sooooo, ready for the drop?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really!" The Dealer laughed. "Well, off you go then! Enjoy the new world and your new life!"
Cedric felt a tug in his gut, a sensation of being pulled backwards at high speed through a straw. The casino began to dissolve into streaks of neon light. The sound of the slot machines stretched into a long, warping drone.
He closed his eyes.
'Here we go again.'
"Oh! Wait a minute!"
The Dealer's voice cut through the distortion.
Snap.
The teleportation froze. Cedric hung suspended in a half-dissolved state, his body turning into particles of light.
The Dealer was standing right in front of him now, ignoring the physical distance of the table. He slapped his forehead in mock forgetfulness.
"Silly me. I almost forgot the Bonus Prize! You are guest number 696,969 after all. I can't send you off empty-handed. That would be rude."
He reached into the breast pocket of his midnight blue suit and pulled out... nothing.
Or rather, he pulled out a small, glowing orb of light. It wasn't blinding white like the void. It was warm. It pulsed with a gentle, white rhythm.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It sounded like a heartbeat.
"A little gift." The Dealer said. He held the orb out.
His frantic energy softened just a fraction. The joke was still there, but the edge was gone.
"From me to you." he said.
"Consider it a... starter pack. It will help you navigate that messy world. It will help you build something. Maybe even something that lasts."
He tossed the orb towards Cedric.
It absorbed into Cedric's chest, sinking deep.
Cedric felt a sudden warmth. It spread from his chest to his fingertips. It felt like the first sip of hot soup after a day in the rain.
For a second, the numbness broke. Cedric gasped.
"Goodbye, Cedric." The Dealer said, tipping an imaginary hat. "And good luck."
And then, Cedric was gone.
…
…
…
[The Casino - Moments Later]
The Dealer stood alone in the silent casino. The confetti had vanished. The music had stopped. The slot machines were dark.
He stared at the empty leather chair where the boy had just been sitting.
He let out a long breath, the chaotic persona melting away like wax, revealing a man who looked very tired.
He slowly opened his eyes fully for the first time.
The narrow slits widened. They weren't the eyes of a fox. They weren't the eyes of a madman.
They were purple. A deep, mesmerizing violet that seemed to hold a quiet storm within them.
They were identical to Cedric's eyes.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver object.
It wasn't a card. It wasn't a grenade.
It was a battered, scratched silver Zippo lighter. The one she used to carry.
He flipped the lid open. Clink. He flipped it closed. Clink.
He looked at the empty space where Cedric had vanished, his face softening into an expression of profound grief and love.
"May happiness and luck find you in this life..." he whispered to the silence.
He flipped the lighter one last time, and the flame sparked—bright, orange, and alive.
"...my dear son."