Chapter 1:
You know how it goes, right? You die, then you float in the void for a while. If you're lucky, a god shows up after a few years. Then you get a chance to reincarnate in another world.
That's what we all want, isn't it?
But here's the thing: it's never that simple.
While I did die and found myself floating in the void, I'd already lost my sense of time. It's been years—or at least I think it's been years—since I got stuck in this goddamn void. Days? Decades? Who the hell knows anymore. Time doesn't mean anything here.
And fuck, there was no god I met. No divine being showing up with a warm smile and a catalog of fantasy worlds to choose from. No cosmic entity offering me cheat skills or a second chance. Nothing. Just me, the darkness, and the slow realization that maybe I drew the short straw on this whole reincarnation deal.
Speaking of which, let me introduce myself first.
Name's Adam. Yep, named after the first man. My dad thought it was a cool name, something strong and classic. And damn, he was right. I like my name. Always have.
As for my last name... I have no idea. At some point, I kind of forgot what it was.
Heck, I can't even remember my parents' faces anymore—only their first names. Mom was Sarah. Dad was Michael. But their faces? Gone. Just blurry shapes where memories used to be. Sometimes I try to picture them, force my brain to fill in the details, but it's like grasping at smoke.
My memory's gotten fuzzy overall. I'm having a hard time recalling my life before this. The big moments are still there, sort of—graduating, my first job, stupid fights with friends—but they feel distant, like I'm watching someone else's life through frosted glass. The details keep slipping away. What did my childhood home look like? What was my favorite food? Did I have siblings?
Is it because I've been drifting in this void for years? Probably. Makes sense that your mind would start to break down when there's nothing to anchor it to. No sights, no sounds, no sensations. Just endless darkness and your own thoughts eating themselves.
Oh well, nothing I could do about it now.
I mean, I tried everything to escape here. But nothing. Nada. I was stuck.
I screamed until my throat felt raw—or at least, I think I did. Hard to tell when you don't have a real body anymore. I tried willing myself out, imagining doors, portals, anything that might punch a hole through this darkness. I even tried meditation, thinking maybe I could astral project myself out of the astral plane or whatever the hell this is.
Nothing worked.
I was stuck. Completely and utterly stuck.
Oh no, stepbro—wait, no, what was that?
Where did that come from? My brain's really starting to scramble if random garbage like that is popping up now.
I didn't know how much time had passed when I felt something.
It wasn't much, just a tiny pull, like a thread tugging at my chest. But after years of absolute nothingness, it might as well have been a goddamn fireworks show. My entire being focused on that sensation, afraid it would disappear if I didn't pay attention.
And for the first time in years, I felt hope.
Real, honest-to-god hope. The kind that makes your heart race—or whatever passes for a heart when you're a disembodied consciousness floating in the void. Maybe this was it. Maybe something was finally happening. Maybe I wasn't going to be stuck here forever after all.
I held onto that feeling like my life depended on it. Because honestly? It probably did.
It was only a matter of time before I'd go insane in this place. Heck, it's a wonder I haven't gone insane already.
Maybe I had and just didn't realize it. Maybe talking to yourself in the void for years is insanity, and I'd crossed that line a long time ago. Maybe that weird stepbrother thing earlier was proof enough. But I pushed those thoughts aside. Didn't matter right now.
I focused my entire being, my entire willpower, on that pull.
Every scrap of concentration I had left went into it. I grabbed onto that thread—that tiny, precious connection to something—and held on with everything I had. If this was my one shot at getting out of here, I wasn't going to waste it by second-guessing myself or falling apart now.
Come on. Come on. Pull me out of here.
Then something did happen. I felt it.
The pull grew stronger, more insistent. The darkness around me started to shift—or maybe I was the one shifting. Hard to tell. But something was changing, something was finally changing, and I wanted to cry or laugh or scream in relief.
The tug became a yank, and suddenly I was moving. Actually moving. The void that had held me prisoner for years was letting go, and I was being pulled toward... somewhere. Anywhere. I didn't care where, as long as it was out of this godforsaken emptiness.
I'd done it. Holy shit, I'd actually done it.
But just as that thought crossed my mind, everything started to blur. The pull was too strong, too fast, and I felt myself slipping. My consciousness—whatever was left of it—began to fade. The edges of my awareness grew fuzzy, then dark.
No, wait. Not now. I just—
And then there was nothing.
=====
I jerked and bolted awake.
It was that dream. Again.
The details were already slipping away, all blurry and hazy like smoke disappearing in the wind. But even as it faded, something about it felt important. Significant, somehow. Like my brain was trying to tell me something I needed to remember.
I sighed. There was no use in thinking about it.
Whatever it was, it was gone now. Just fragments and feelings that didn't make sense in the light of day. I rubbed my face, trying to shake off the lingering unease that clung to me.
Just a dream. That's all it was.
"Adam! Breakfast is ready!" I heard a voice calling me from downstairs. It was my mom.
I shook my head, pushing the dream thing to the back of my mind. No point dwelling on it now. I quickly threw on some clothes and hurried my way down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I didn't want to anger my mother. Last thing I needed this morning was a lecture about being late to the table.
As I got down, I saw Mom setting the rice down on the table.
"Good morning, sweetie." She smiled at me.
"Morning, Mom."
"How was your sleep?"
"It was good." I replied, no plans on telling her about the dream.
She nodded and we settled into our seats. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, just the sound of utensils against plates and the occasional clink of glasses. It was nice, peaceful even. The kind of quiet that didn't need filling.
Then Mom broke the silence. "So, are you ready for your first day?"
I groaned.
"Do I really have to?" I said.
It was my first day of classes at Midtown High School. I'd transferred here from my previous school after Mom had to move for work. After Dad died, everything changed. New city, new job for her, new school for me. Fresh start, she called it. I called it a pain in the ass.
My mom's expression turned stern.
"Of course, Adam Maxwell." She used my full name—never a good sign. "We've talked about this."
"Yeah, I know... it's just that I miss my old life," I quietly said to her.
I understood why we had to do this, but that didn't make it easy. I had friends there, you know? I was making good progress with my relationship with Leila. I was about to ask her to prom and maybe even confess how I felt. But then everything changed. Dad died, and we had to pack up and leave. Just like that. All those plans, all that progress—gone. It really sucked.
Mom's expression softened.
"I know, sweetie. I know... and I'm sorry about it." Her voice was gentle, understanding. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "This wasn't easy for either of us. But we're doing our best, right? New start, new opportunities. Who knows—maybe Midtown High School will surprise you."
I doubted it, but I didn't say that out loud. She was trying. We both were.
She gave my hand one more squeeze before letting go. "Eat up. You'll need your energy today."
I nodded and finished my breakfast, the rice and eggs suddenly tasting better than they had a minute ago. Maybe it was her words, or maybe it was just knowing she got it. Either way, the knot in my chest loosened a bit.
After I was done, I grabbed my bag from the living room and slung it over my shoulder. Mom was already by the door, holding out my lunch box.
"Don't forget this," she said with a small smile.
I took it from her. "Thanks, Mom."
She reached up and fixed my collar, even though it was fine. Just mom things, I guess. "You're going to do great today. I know it."
I wasn't so sure about that, but her confidence made me feel a little better. I adjusted the strap on my bag and took a breath.
"Love you, Mom."
Her smile widened. "Love you too, sweetie. Now go, or you'll be late."
I gave her one last nod before heading out the door.