I had been waiting for something like this to happen. My life had become comparable to the mindless action movie I was trying to watch, so when I heard the knock at the door, I grabbed my pistol, flicked off the safety, and cautiously approached.
"Halberd Randal, this is special agent Jim! I just want to have a talk about some things if you don't mind," a voice called from the other side.
I hesitated, then put the safety back on and tucked the gun into the back of my pants. The name didn't ring any bells, but something about this Jim guy felt... wrong. Still, I opened the door, and standing there was a tall man in a black suit, sunglasses perched on his nose like some cliché government agent. His presence screamed authority, but there was also a disarming warmth in his eyes, as if he wanted me to trust him.
"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to sound calm but keeping my guard up.
"Mind if I come in?" He took off his sunglasses, revealing those cold, calculating eyes, but beneath the surface, there was something unsettlingly sincere.
I stepped aside, and he walked in without hesitation, making himself at home on my couch. "So, what can I do for you, special agent Jim?" I asked, emphasizing the title with a hint of sarcasm.
He chuckled softly, as though he found my attempt at humor endearing. "Just Jim," he corrected, his smile fading as he got down to business. "We need to talk about your... ability."
"Ability?" I scoffed. "What are you talking about?"
Jim's expression remained deadly serious. "You seem to attract danger wherever you go, right? It's no coincidence. My organization has been tracking you for some time, and we believe you could be... useful."
I furrowed my brow, more confused than ever. "Useful how?"
"We want you to help us neutralize transmigrators and reincarnates," Jim stated plainly, as if he were talking about a mundane task. "You have a gift, and we need people like you who can harness that gift."
It took me a moment to process what he was saying. Transmigrators? Reincarnates? Was this some kind of elaborate prank? I laughed nervously, shaking my head. "No thanks. I'm not interested in playing superhero. My life's complicated enough without adding... whatever this is."
Jim stood up, not missing a beat, and walked toward the door. He paused briefly, looking over his shoulder with a knowing smirk. "That's too bad, Halberd. But I think you'll change your mind. We'll be watching you."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me standing there, bewildered and a little paranoid. I locked the door quickly, but before I could even take a breath, the power went out.
And then, everything happened at once.
The door was kicked open, splintering the frame, and a group of men in black suits poured into my apartment, guns drawn. Without thinking, I reached for the nearest object—a heavy casserole dish—and hurled it at the first guy. It smashed against his head, knocking him back into two others like dominos. My gun was out next, and I managed to take down two more before one of them tased me.
The last thing I remembered was the jolt of electricity tearing through my body, then darkness.
I woke up in a sterile white room, the kind of place that looked like it belonged in a top-secret government facility. A single table sat in the middle, flanked by two metal chairs. The door opened with a mechanical hiss, and Jim strolled in casually, a file folder tucked under his arm.
"Good to see you awake," he said, taking the seat across from me. He laid the folder on the table, flipping it open with a casual, almost disinterested motion. "You've got quite the history, Halberd. Impressive... in its own way."
I scowled at him. "You mean my rap sheet?"
Jim didn't flinch. "Call it what you want, but you've survived things that would kill most people… well, pretty much anyone else. You're a natural survivor, and that's what makes you perfect for this."
"For what exactly?" I growled. "You didn't exactly explain much before your goons tased me."
Jim's expression softened slightly, as if he finally understood my frustration. "Look, Halberd, I'm not here to twist your arm—although, I will if I have to." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "The truth is, you've been tapped by something much larger than yourself. The Chaos Trigger—it's what makes you a magnet for danger, a disruptor of fate. People like you have the potential to alter the course of events, to change entire destinies. While stuck in your own reality, the chaos can only flow to you, but once you leave, you will begin to absorb it."
I blinked, staring at him. "Chaos... Trigger? And what does that have to do with transmigrators and reincarnates? You still haven't explained what the hell that even means."
Jim sighed, as if he was getting tired of explaining the obvious. "There are beings who cross dimensions, living multiple lives, sometimes simultaneously. They're not supposed to be here, but they exist to manipulate outcomes in their favor. They destabilize the balance of worlds, Halberd, and unless they're stopped, everything will unravel."
I sat back, trying to absorb it all. It sounded insane, like something out of a bad science fiction movie. But deep down, I felt a stirring of recognition. My entire life had been a series of improbable accidents, coincidences that always seemed too strange to be random.
Jim sensed my hesitation and pressed on. "You've spent your whole life reacting to chaos. What we're offering is the chance to take control of it. To turn your curse into a weapon and do something meaningful with it."
I clenched my fists, staring at the table. I wasn't sure if I believed him, but part of me wanted to believe. "So, you're asking me to kill people?"
Jim shook his head. "Not normal people. Disruptors. Transmigrators and reincarnates who are throwing entire realities out of balance. And we need someone who can keep up with them—someone like you."
The weight of what he was asking settled on my shoulders. I had never asked for any of this, but here I was, being given the chance to do something more than just survive. Maybe it was reckless, maybe it was even suicidal—but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a purpose. Still, was I supposed to just start killing people?
"While I kind of see why you might be interested in me. This is all a lot to take in at once, right? Haven't killed anyone on purpose in my entire life, but it is not to say people haven't died because of me. How can I trust that you're not just using me for my curse or whatever?"
Jim shrugged. "While in this tiny room, it is probably hard to believe this all, but in order for to be able to really understand everything, I need you to accept the job."
I put my head in my hands, starting to feel frustrated. Pulled from my home, my life, even if it wasn't a good one, and dumped into this strange room with a man full of secrets, all to be the solution to something I didn't even fully understand.
"I need to think about it," I finally said.
Jim nodded, looking like he was expecting this. "Take some time, but it needs to be within this room. Your life is about to change in a good way, even if you don't know it. Don't think about the killing too much for now. You will find reason enough when the time comes."