Agh—I screamed as the memories came rushing back.
Everything had been going smoothly. Too smoothly. I had been following my prey, already counting him as the fourth addition to my collection.
Why did I kill? Because it made me feel alive. Because nothing compared to the moment people realized there was no way out—their fear raw, their expressions unfiltered as they searched my face for mercy that never came. I used to laugh at that moment. I still did.
This one was a middle-aged man, recently moved to Idaho. Quiet. Outdoorsy. A hiker. Perfect.
I followed him home, already planning the details—knock him out, restrain him, take my time.
The moment I stepped inside, everything went wrong.
Pain exploded across my head as something heavy struck me. I stumbled, barely staying upright, as the man—my *victim*—stood over me with a calm, unreadable expression.
"You're not half bad," he said coolly. "For an amateur."
Rage surged. I reached for the gun I'd stolen months ago, my fingers barely brushing the grip—
A deafening crack cut through the room.
Agony tore through my leg, and I collapsed, screaming as the floor rushed up to meet me. He approached without haste, kicked the breath from my lungs, then yanked my hair back until I was forced to meet his gaze.
"How many?" he demanded. "Answer me before I make this worse."
My voice shook. "Th… three."
He laughed softly.
"Not bad. What are you? Twenty?"
"Nineteen," I spat, fury burning hotter than the pain.
"That's good," he said thoughtfully. "When was your first?"
"Last year."
He hummed. "Reckless. No patience. No fear of getting caught."
Then the blows came—brutal and equally painful. When he finally stopped, he straightened and smiled.
"Too bad you chose me. I've been doing this over twenty years. Sixty victims, give or take." He turned away. "Let me grab my tools. I'll show you how professionals work."
I went still. Let my body slacken. Let him believe I was fading.
The moment his back was turned, my hand found the knife hidden at my waist.
I struck.
He went down with a howl, shock and fury twisting his face. I lunged again, desperate, but he reacted fast—knocking the blade away, shoving me back. I swung, catching his face hard, but it wasn't enough.
His hands closed around my throat.
The world narrowed. My vision dimmed. With the last of my strength, I lashed out blindly, grabbing whatever I could and threw it at him.
Then—
Another gunshot.
The force knocked me forward, the room spinning as darkness swallowed everything.
As the memories receded and my awareness returned, I realized I was awake.
I lay suspended in an endless white expanse—no walls, no floor, no sky. Just emptiness. I wondered vaguely if this was where judgment waited… or if everyone who died ended up here first.
As my thoughts settled, something else surfaced.
Excitement.
The familiar thrill of the hunt curled in my chest, sharp and intoxicating, and a grin split my face before I could stop myself. Insane, maybe, but undeniably alive.
Then the silence shattered.
A sharp, crackling sound tore through the void, and a fracture split the white space itself. Beyond it lay nothing but absolute darkness, a black so deep it swallowed all sense of depth.
So this is it, I thought calmly. The warden of Hell, came to collect what's left of me.
From the crack stepped a figure draped in a black robe, its face not hidden—but absent. Where features should have been, there was only void.
"Congratulations, mortal," the entity said, its voice echoing without direction. "You have been granted another chance at life."
I tried to speak, questions clawing at my throat—but no sound came. Panic flickered, only to die as the being lifted a hand. At its gesture, three small vials appeared between us, floating serenely.
"You will choose one," it continued. "Each potion grants abilities that will accompany you into your continued existence."
They looked identical—glass vials filled with an opaque white liquid. No markings. No hints.
After a moment's consideration, I reached for the first.
"Drink," the entity said. "You will understand."
The liquid burned cold as it slid down my throat, and then knowledge unfolded in my mind, vast and immediate.
Essence of the Blank
By consuming this Essence, you gain a singular blessing:
Your potential becomes limitless.
You may learn any discipline or skill, regardless of natural aptitude or imposed restriction. No knowledge will be lost, no mastery diluted. Any additional abilities you acquire will grow beyond their intended limits, evolving in ways not originally defined.
I stood there, stunned.
Was this a hallucination? A final delusion before oblivion? Had I finally lost my mind?
Before the doubt could root itself, the entity spoke again.
"You will be reincarnated into the Harry Potter universe. You shall take over one of its existing inhabitants. The moment of transmigration will be… random."
With that, the figure dissolved into black mist, flooding the white expanse and my vision with darkness.
Then, consciousness slipped away.
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Okay so that was the first chapter, the mc got his essence and now let me clarify some details of the essence...
What the mc got is the earliest form of the essence of the blank, like when it was first introduced in the essence cyoa Sub reddit. This essence enhances one's talent sure but it absolutely does not give you abilities like infinite stamina, will power, peak body as per your race based on your preferences...
All it does is make you more talented and removes your limiter. Which means he can learn white magic, divinition, love magic and so on and the Voldemorts mana won't be the same, it will keep on growing at the same rate as it used to before he hit his magical maturity.
Finally give me some power stones and drop harem suggestions for the mc since he'll need to have some toys to relax himself with.