Chapter 0; Prologue

Neriah paused, looking for the traffic light to turn. He had been talking to his mom on the phone.

"Be safe on your way back."

"I always am. I've been safe my entire life."

"Clearly, someone who has been safe their entire life didn't walk into a glass door."

"I was like 7. The door was clean."

"I'm sure. You go take care of yourself now, and call me back when you get at your place. And maybe eat something real besides some noodl…"
"Love you too. Bye."

He ended the talk suddenly and then looked at his phone. The time was 11:17 PM. He was on his way home after facing the fallout for playing game emulators on his work computer. His boss had caught on and called him to her office for a warning.

Even though she had banned gaming, he had secretly been playing every day after hours since he started the job. Once again, he had worked late and eventually got caught. He had told himself to stick to just two hours of gaming. However, he got so involved that he lost track of time and played for five. The workplace was empty now, as his coworkers had left for the day, leaving him alone, showing his mix of anger, joy, disappointment, and victory while yelling at the screen.

"My boss really seemed angry. I thought she might fire me. It’s obvious she will give me more work next week in the webtoon department.”

As he lifted his gaze, he observed the four-way intersection to find no traffic after glancing quickly in both directions, noting only a truck approaching from the right at a distance. He focused on the traffic signal, which had changed to green. He tucked his phone and hands into his pockets and stepped off the sidewalk.

Tomorrow marks the start of the weekend, at least there he wouldn't have to worry about work. His only desire at this moment was to make a stop at the nearby grocery store to purchase items that would require minimal preparation for dinner: bread, Blue Band margarine, and milk to accompany his tea. 

This evening, he intended to retire early rather than participate in the movie night, allowing him to awaken refreshed for the much-anticipated journey back home. It had been an excessively long time. Nearly four weeks had elapsed since he last reunited with his family.

He followed the rules. He waited for the signal, did everything right. Even so, the truck disregarded the red light, surging forward straight into the crosswalk.
The engine's roar made Neriah’s heart seize. He barely turned his head before the high beams swallowed him in blinding white. The truck was too fast, too close. He stood there, frozen in shock. In that moment, even if he had tried to run or jump, there would not have been time.
*Why didn't the truck stop?*
It struck him.

The impact was cataclysmic. It wasn't just noise; the shock wave tore straight through his skeleton, bruised his organs against his ribs, and set every tooth vibrating in his skull. The heavy steel grille hit him with the momentum of a wrecking ball, throwing him skyward. For one weightless fraction of a second he hung in the air before crashing down, bouncing and tumbling across the rough asphalt like a broken toy.

When he finally skidded to a stop, everything went silent, dead and suffocating. The scream of locked tires and the thunderous crunch of the truck plowing into a brick storefront vanished into a shrill ringing that filled his head.
Neriah lay twisted against the curb, his body angled toward the black sky, blood seeping from him in a slow, dark pool that swallowed the streetlight's weak glow. He had to move. He couldn't stay there. But no matter what he willed himself to do, his limbs would not answer. 

Yet, he felt none of it. Not the wet warmth soaking into the pavement beneath him. Not the asphalt grinding into his skin. Not even the winter chill he had fought by yanking up his hood after coming out of the subway. There was no pain, only a vast nothingness where his body used to be.

Then a pale blue window appeared in front of his eyes. At its top sat a circle with a dark icon inside: a hooded figure gripping a scythe. Below that, glowing letters:

\[ SOUL REAPER ]

\[ Extracting soul In 20 seconds ]

\[ 19... 18... ]

By any measure he should have been 
frightened, by the sensation of not feeling anything, by the display floating in the air like that. Having read many isekai tales, he understood exactly what this looked like. It always seemed to involve a character being hit by the well-known truck-kun, a common joke among fans. The only missing parts were a god, magical powers, and an extraordinary world waiting ahead. Yet, there was no such world. Different dimensions flourished in anime, webcomics, and digital stories, created by people seeking to escape the letdowns of real life.

He was not on a journey anywhere. He lay on the pavement with an injured head and a body that refused to obey. Any moment now, the feeling of paralysis would subside, he would rise to his feet, brush off his hooded jacket, and return to his mundane existence.

On the street, people gasped and muttered behind gloved hands. A woman's voice broke as she shouted for an ambulance, words tumbling over one another in her panic. Someone else wrestled a phone out with trembling fingers and stabbed at the emergency keypad.

A man kneeled down next to Neriah and reached for him. Two other people moved closer to the damaged vehicle.
“Is the driver still breathing?”

“I’m not sure. Go check the other side of the door!”

In the middle of the street, the man noticed a growing pool of blood, then turned to Neriah's glazed eyes and tightened his lips.

"Focus on me, okay? Keep looking at me. Someone is getting an ambulance; help is coming. Just stay strong.”

Neriah's lips parted in a dry twitch of muscle, but no voice formed.

"That's okay. That's okay. Don't try to talk. Just keep looking at me."

*I'm fine,* he wanted to say. *I just need a second. I'll get up. Just give me a second.*

He poured everything he had into forcing a command through his nervous system, fighting for a single finger to twitch, for his jaw to move.

Stillness. Absolute and terrifying.
The stranger's face began to blur into shadow. The lone streetlight overhead shrank to a distant, fading pinprick, as though a heavy door were slowly swinging shut, locking Neriah out of the world.

He was not angry. He could not find the strength to be brave. Beneath the encroaching dark, there was only one unbearable question:

*Is this really where my life ends?*

The darkness swallowed the last fragments of his awareness. Then something hooked him. Something deeper, behind the ribs, behind the thoughts, where he'd never known he could be touched. It yanked, and every part of him tore loose with it. He had no sound to scream with. He screamed anyway.

⟨⟨ AUTHORIZED SIGNATURE DETECTED ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ SOUL CLAIMED: CONFIRMED ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ DESIGNATION: NERIAH ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ CLASSIFICATION: MALE ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ AVATAR CREATION: COMPLETE ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ REBOOTING CONSCIOUSNESS... ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ 3... ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ ... ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ 1... ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ INTEGRATION: COMPLETE ⟩⟩

⟨⟨ VESSEL SECURED: REINCARNATION INITIATED ⟩⟩