The Trickster leaned forward, a glimmer in his eyes that defied logic — grinning like a wolf crowned in stars, baptized in the theater of forgotten gods.
"Come now," he whispered, voice slick with amusement and shadow, "don't keep me waiting. You have six wishes, little ghost. Whisper them into the abyss — and let's see what kind of monster crawls out of the ashes."
My mind raced.
This was it.
A cosmic reset, carved from the carcass of my former self — a second chance rising from the rot of a life unlived. But what does a soul splintered beyond recognition even ask for? What does the broken wish for when handed the keys to creation?
I closed my eyes. Let the void cradle me one final time.
And then I spoke.
—"I wish… to be born into a universe that combines the worlds of the stories I read while alive, the fantasies, anime, movies, and comics, the ones that gave me escape when I had nothing else. I want them to be real — but scattered, like galaxies unaware of each other. Separate, but all a part of one greater, infinite whole."
The Trickster's grin widened with manic glee.
"Ah… a multiverse stitched together by fiction and delusion. Delicious. But you've consumed far too many tales, little ghost —so I will choose a random number of them. Continue…"
—"I wish to have a body with limitless potential. One that breaks past the barriers of growth, race, and learning. One that evolves… endlessly."
His eyes glowed like collapsing stars.
"Now we're talking, I can think of a couple of interesting things to do," he whispered, eyes glowing like twin suns. I barely heard what he said, but it confused me. Then he said, "A body that spits in the face of natural law, oh, the hunts you'll invite. A dangerous gift, little ghost. And I, for one, cannot wait to see who comes to collect."
His comments and attitude caused some doubts to creep into my mind but I had already decided to take this path so I continued.
—"I wish to be born into a family of immense power. Not one that shelters me, but one that shakes the world"
The Trickster let out a low chuckle, almost mockingly.
"Oh… are you sure about that? The result may not be what you hoped for. Well it doesn't matter, after all, it will be more entertaining that way, Granted"
The way he spoke made me doubt what I had said and then I got it, I was being too general, practically giving him endless possibilities to fill in the blanks. I regretted my naivete and soldiered on and kept thinking about my next wish.
Time unraveled oddly in the void. I thought, pondered, and questioned myself, while the Trickster — bored — conjured a chair of bones and a cocktail made from dying stars. Then I finally came up with a wish that would not only be extremely positive for my future life but also serve to test the amount of power he held.
When I finally spoke again, it was with a clarity sharp as obsidian.
—"I wish to inherit the skills, intellect, instincts, and personality of Victor Walker from the web novel My Three Wives are Beautiful Vampires" I wanted to escape from my past weak self and this was the most efficient way to achieve it.
A silence heavier than gravity fell.
The Trickster's smile cracked.
Just for a moment.
"Ah… that name." His voice dropped, reverent and amused. "Bold. Suicidal, even. But… interesting. You don't wish to be him. Only to carry what made him inevitable." He considered the threads of fate — calculating outcomes, for a moment I thought he would reject the wish. But then: "Granted. With… limitations."
I was stunned. Victor was no mere character. He was an outer god clothed in flesh — a being who is above the multiversal level, whose future self guards his and his wives's past present, and future from other multiversal beings and creators who want to enter his story.
And he had just said yes.
I barely had time to breathe before the fifth rose from my lips:
—"I wish to be the best… at everything."
This time, the Trickster laughed.
Not a chuckle — a manic, euphoric cackle that echoed into nonexistence.
"Oh, how clever. Creating a monster wrapped in ambition. High risk. High spectacle. Delicious pain. Granted."
His eyes gleamed like twin daggers.
"And now… the final wish."
I hesitated.
The first five were clear. Survival. Power. Purpose. But the last… it had to be different. Something I hadn't let myself want before.
I remembered the silence. The endless dark. My screams echoing in my skull. The feeling of being forgotten by everything — even death.
And then I spoke, voice trembling and a little embarrassed but firm:
—"I wish to be… loved."
The Trickster's face shifted.
The grin remained — but behind it, something ancient stirred. Not pity.
Understanding.
"Hah… that's the one," he said quietly. "The real wish. The first and the last. The one all mortals carry but never dare to speak. It breaks the rules… But tonight, I'll break them with you."
He laughed.
And snapped his fingers.
Six lights, each a different color, bloomed around me like dying stars.
One gold. One crimson. One silver. One deep violet. One black. One… blue.
"Your soul has been branded, little ghost. Your story… begins again."
The void trembled.
Everything around me blurred, like water dragged into a whirlpool. The Trickster raised his hand, and the door behind him — that twisted, crooked thing — split open wider.
Through it, I saw worlds colliding. Oceans devoured by fire. Cities floating in the sky. Beasts that split mountains with their roars. Dragons whose wings eclipsed suns. Vampires draped in royal silk drinking from chalices filled with blood. Demons dancing to the sound of screams. Castles flying over forbidden forests. Giants carving constellations with their hands.
And them.
A woman with emerald eyes and crimson hair — wielding a spear that dripped with time.
Another, who stood atop power, but had nothing left.
A titan with six eyes — each reflecting destiny's cruelty.
A man falling into madness with his eyes veiled.
A tired woman, who had long ceased to care for her life.
I didn't know them.
Not yet.
But I would.
Because they were waiting for me.
The Trickster stepped back, eyes now black holes with smiles.
"Your rebirth won't be easy. Your path is… outside the script."
He tilted his head again, the madness returning full force.
"You'll be an anomaly. An infection. A song sung out of tune. The world won't know what to do with you — and neither will the gods."
A pause.
"And you won't know who you are. Not at first."
The stars around me cracked open like eggs, pouring light into my chest.
"And just remember… you wanted this."
And then everything shattered.
The darkness burst into a blinding light.
And I screamed — a scream I hadn't let out in centuries. It tore through me like a blade dipped in memory. It wasn't pain. It was becoming.
I was being rewritten.
A million threads wove through my soul. Names. Powers. Histories. Futures.
My body disintegrated and reformed, atom by atom, forged by the weight of the six wishes.
I felt unknown bloodlines being injected into my bones.
I felt my soul bend under the burden my new body and destiny carried.
And just as the light was about to consume me completely…
The Trickster's voice echoed one last time.
"Remember, little ghost — you're not you anymore. You're them. You're everything. But…"
A pause.
His final whisper cut colder than death.
"…one day, the price will come due."
And with that —
I was born.