A sensation of weightlessness engulfed me, yet I could still move freely. My limbs, though devoid of mass, remained under my control. It was a contradiction-a dreamlike state where gravity lost its meaning.

I took a step forward, my foot landing upon a crystalline surface. A ripple of faint golden light spread outward, dissipating into the infinite void. The ground mirrored the vast expanse above me, reflecting an endless cosmic sea, nebulas swirling in slow, deliberate motion. Golden and violet energies intertwine like celestial rivers, bending and warping as if guided by an unseen force. The sky-or what should have been the sky-stretched infinitely in all directions, a deep void with no horizon, no end.

I observed carefully. The symmetry of the space was unnatural. There was no wind, no discernible source of light, yet everything remained illuminated, casting soft glows on the prismatic surface. The silence was absolute.

I attempted to rationalize.

If I were still alive, this would be a hallucination, a trick of a damaged mind struggling against impending death. If this were an afterlife, then which belief system had been correct? None that I knew of depicted such a place. Heaven, hell, reincarnation-each theory failed to fit the current reality.

I briefly entertained the possibility of advanced technology, an artificially induced dream-state, perhaps my consciousness uploaded into some experimental system. But such an idea required far too many improbable conditions to hold weight.

In the end, none of it mattered. I was here.

Then, the silence broke.

A ripple formed in the space ahead of me, expanding outward like a disturbance in water. From within, a figure emerged, his presence commanding attention.

Tall. Likely exceeding 2.5 meters. He didn't stand-he floated, effortlessly suspended in the void. His appearance was distinct, unlike anything I had encountered before. Two large horns grew from his temples, curving slightly upward, adding to his imposing presence. His skin, a pale luminescence, bore a quality both lifeless and divine. Angular facial features-sharp cheekbones, a pronounced jawline, a stoic, statue-like expression that betrayed neither youth nor age.

His eyes held my attention the most. A light, almost glowing bluish-white hue surrounded a deep black pupil. They were not human eyes.

Long, white hair cascaded around him, moving as though in low gravity. His attire-silken white robes with an elegant mantle-flowed unnaturally, unaffected by the void's stillness.

Then, he spoke.

"Ayanokoji Kiyotaka."

His voice echoed faintly, layered with an almost imperceptible resonance.

"You're dead."

I remained silent for a moment, absorbing the words. Then, in my usual tone, I responded.

"I noticed."

His lips didn't shift, yet I could sense amusement in his expression.

I analyzed his features once more, searching for familiarity. His horns, divine presence, and celestial surroundings bore resemblance to deities from various mythologies, yet none matched precisely. Norse, Hindu, even obscure Eastern faiths-I had studied them all, but his appearance did not conform. If he were a god, he was one unknown to human civilization.

He finally continued.

"I am called Shibai."

A title rather than a name, perhaps?

"My existence is beyond mortal comprehension," he stated, as if anticipating my question. "But if you require classification, I can be called a god."

A convenient self-designation. I neither accepted nor denied it.

"You have been given an opportunity," he continued, his voice unwavering. "I offer you reincarnation."

Reincarnation. The concept itself was nothing new, a common element in both religious doctrine and fictional literature. However, hearing it stated as a fact required further scrutiny.

I remained silent, prompting him to elaborate.

"You may ask why," he said. "And the answer is simple. You are a husk-an empty vessel. A being shaped by an environment, conditioned for survival, yet devoid of purpose."

A reasonable assessment. My entire life had been dictated by another's will, molded into the ideal tool. Free will has never been a necessity.

Shibai continued.

"In exchange for your new life, you will undertake a mission."

A mission. That made the offer more of a contract than a gift.

"There exist forces within the world that I wish to be stopped," he explained. "The timeline must change. The specifics are beyond what I can disclose, but your role is simple-become the strongest. Only by reaching the pinnacle will you be able to face what is to come."

I examined his wording. His choice of "survival" and "strongest" suggested a hierarchy. A world ruled by power.

"This world you will enter," he added, "is one of shinobi-of supernatural abilities and ceaseless conflict. The weak perish, the strong endure."

Supernatural abilities. A lawless, meritocratic system based on individual power. A world inherently different from the controlled environment I had previously known.

He then provided an additional detail.

"You will be reincarnated as the son of a man similar to your original father. He will see you as nothing more than a tool. This should be... familiar."

A controlled upbringing. A father who valued utility over sentiment. It was a pattern I had already navigated once before.

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

Shibai's response was immediate.

"Then your soul will be cleansed. Stripped of memory, identity, everything that makes you who you are. In essence, you will cease to exist."

That was an effective deterrent. If survival dictated my actions, there was no logical alternative to acceptance.

A sigh escaped me. "How troublesome."

I saw the faintest hint of amusement in his gaze before I felt it-something shifting inside me.

An unfamiliar sensation coursed through my form, a force beyond my understanding, charging me with energy. The void around me distorted. The nebulas swirled erratically, the crystalline ground beneath me cracking as the ripple effect intensified.

Then, all at once-everything turned black.