Stephen groaned, touching his head. It throbbed like he’d headbutted a hallway.
The pain was fading quickly, though...too quickly. Strange.
Somewhere in the room, a radio crackled softly atop the table, playing low jazz under a news bulletin. The breeze from an open window stirred the curtains lazily. Had heforgottentocloseit? Maybe. He wasn’t sure.
He shifted on the floor, his hand groping around until it found a wrinkled T-shirt half-tucked beneath the bed. He grabbed it without thinking, but paused just as he was about to pull it over his head.
His eyes landed on his torso.
He froze.
"What the hell...?"
His fingers brushed his stomach.
It wasn’t the sunken, soft belly he remembered. His ribs weren’t visible anymore. Instead, lean muscle pressed against his skin. Toned. Defined. There were actual abs there.
His breath caught in his throat.
"In the name of God..." he muttered, his hand gliding across the unfamiliar contours.
He stumbled to his feet and walked to the cracked mirror above his dresser.
And stared.
At first, he thought he was looking at someone else. The skin was smoother, color in the cheeks. The eyes clearer. The body... not perfect, but no longer frail. He looked healthier, stronger. Like a better version of himself....like someone who hadn’t been dragging depression and hunger behind him for years.
But it was him.
It was Stephen King. Just... upgraded.He
didn’t know how to feel. Awed? Terrified?
Then the voice on the radio cut through his thoughts.
".....in local news, a tragic collision between a passenger bus and an articulated truck has left twenty people dead. Seven others remain in critical condition. Emergency services are still...."
Stephen’s heart skipped a beat.
A bus?
His last memory was of headlights. Tires screaming. The crunch of metal.
He swallowed hard, eyes wide.
Then the memories hit him.
Flashes of screeching tires. The sickening crunch of metal. The sudden silence. The cold, the darkness...
And the voice.
That deep, ancient voice echoing through the void.
Stephen staggered back from the mirror, grabbing the edge of the dresser for support.
It all came rushing in like a dream, except he knew it wasn’t. It was real.
The crash.The death. The empty blackness.
And him.
"Lucidas..." Stephen whispered.
The name left his lips like a trigger.
Suddenly.....ding.
A sound like a glass bell being struck echoed through the room.
A glowing tab appeared midair in front of him. No screen. No device. Just floating, translucent light....like something pulled straight out of a game.
His eyes widened.
[DEATH GOD SYSTEM: INITIATING.....]
[Name: Stephen King]
[Host Status: Soul-bound Vessel of Lucidas the Hollow Architect .]
[State: Reincarnated- Phase I Complete.]
"Haha... is this some sort of game?" Stephen muttered, staring at the glowing interface hovering mid-air.
He rubbed his eyes. The tab was still there. Floating.
"Okay... definitely not a dream."
Then another line appeared, like the system was listening.
[Welcome, Vessel.
You are now an official player in the Death God King Tournament.
Your body has been restored.
Your soul, enhanced.
Your life is no longer yours..it is a contract.]
Contract? Lucidas had definately said something about a contract.
[SYSTEM FUNCTIONS]
[Soul Harvest – Absorb corrupted souls to grow stronger.]
[Reaper Form [LOCKED] – Unlock your Death God’s true weapon and form.]
[Tab Access – View missions, soul count, and status.]
[Judgement – Sense purity and corruption in nearby souls.]
[Death Link – Communicate with Lucidas [LOCKED].
Stephen squinted. "Huh. Tricky bastard," he said with a crooked grin.
He had signed a deal with a Death God he couldn’t even talk to....at least, not yet.
Still, something about this strange system felt... organized. Like a game. Only the stakes were terrifyingly real.
"What else is there?" he muttered, swiping upward with a hand.
[Vital Stats:]
[Soul Core: Dormant]
[Health: 100%]
[Soul Energy (SE): 10 / 10]
[Reaper Gauge: 0%]
[Death Mark(s): 0]
Stephen frowned, skimming the stats.
Soul Core: Dormant
So... not active yet. That can’t be good.
Reaper Gauge: 0%
Sounds like a power meter... which means I’ve got nothing.
Death Marks?
He had no idea what those were. But the number zero felt more like a countdown than a statistic.
He sighed, shoulders sagging a little.
"Well, no pressure..."
But even as he said it, something buzzed deep in his chest....like a drumbeat out of sync with his heart. Quiet, distant... but growing louder.
He looked around his room again. Same cracked walls. Same old posters. But he wasn’t the same anymore.
And whatever this system was... it had already begun.
Stephen’s chest tightened. His hands curled into fists.
Then it shimmered and shifted again.
[New Objective: Initiation Mission]
[Mission 01: First Reaping]
[A corrupted soul is at the tunnel where the bus crushed.]
[Time Limit: 2 Hours]
[Judgment Required: Determine if the soul is worthy of cleansing or harvest.]
[Failure Penalty: Soul Instability. Risk of system rejection.]
"Tunnel... the crash," he said slowly, remembering the radio report.
This wasn’t a hallucination. Wasn’t a dream. Something in him had changed....for real.
His muscles felt tighter, denser. His mind... clearer, sharper. And yet... the same fear simmered beneath it all.
Still him. But something more.
Everything was moving too fast.
Death.
The void.
Lucidas.
A contract.
Reincarnation.
A better body.
A system...
And already....a mission.
Not just a mission, but one that came with consequences.
Real ones.
He stared at the glowing tab, thoughts spiraling.
Was it worth it?
A normal life had never done him any favors. This might be madness....but at least it was his madness now.
"Well... I can only find out by acting."
A new notification blinked to life:
[ACTIVATE SPIRIT FORM?]
[YES / NO]
"Spirit Form?" he raised a brow. "What the hell is this...?"
Curious, cautious...but mostly reckless, he muttered, "Let’s see..."
And tapped YES.
At first, nothing happened. Then-
A low hum, deep in his chest. Like a heartbeat, but not his own.
His vision blurred for a second, colors stretching and warping around him.His body vibrated, violently, like his soul was trying to peel away from his flesh.
It felt like diving into ice water backwards.
No pain,just a shock that wrapped around every nerve.His skin prickled. His breath caught. The world pulsed.
Then came the shift.
He could feel it. His bones felt lighter, his skin cooler, not cold, just... detached.
Like his human body was a costume he had just stepped out of.
Only clarity.
His senses sharpened, he could hear the creak of the wood in the floor, the buzz of the power in the walls, and something else... something more distant.
Souls. Whispers.
He looked at his hands.
They shimmered faintly, glowing veins of pale silver and shadows crawling underneath. He wasn’t translucent, but he wasn’t fully solid either.
His reflection in the mirror?
Gone.
"What the actual f..."
...
[SPIRIT FORM ACTIVATED]
[Duration: 2 Hours (Beginner Phase)
Current Status: Undetected by normal humans.
Warning: Spirit Form drains Soul Energy. Returning to human form when SE < 2 is advised.]
.....
Stephen took a step forward. His foot didn’t make a sound. He was a ghost now.
And this?
This was only the beginning.
It was time to harvest a soul.