"System override confirmed. Welcome, Dean."
The words hung in the air like an uninvited guest, crisp and mechanical, as Dean blinked at the neon-blue text floating inches from his face. It wasn't a hallucination—he'd checked. Twice. Slapping himself hadn't made it disappear, nor had closing his eyes for a full minute. The text remained, unwavering.
**STATUS SCREEN**
**Name: Dean**
**Origin: Earth-3129 (Terminated)**
**Current World: Valhalla Drift**
**Attributes: Locked**
**Abilities: Locked**
**Next Jump: Pending**
"Terminated?" Dean muttered. The last thing he remembered was the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal—then nothing. Now he stood in a white void, no ground beneath his feet, no sky above. Just endless, oppressive blankness.
The voice spoke again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Correction: *Formerly* terminated. Congratulations, you've been selected for the Main God Space."
Dean exhaled through his teeth. "Fantastic. So what, I'm some kind of cosmic guinea pig now?"
"More like a participant," the voice replied. "Think of it as... an opportunity. A second life, with certain advantages."
Dean glanced back at the bold text hovering before him. His fingers twitched. Whatever this was—game, experiment, afterlife—he had one rule: play it smart, play it alone.