The large poster caught George's attention immediately. A cartoonish man tipping his hat and winking beneath bold letters that proclaimed: **"The Phoenix Embrace, Witness The Greatest Supernatural Occurrence By The Greatest Magician of another World!"** It was part of the promotion for one of the last surviving circuses in the 23rd century, a nostalgic nod to a bygone era.
London, still recovering after the fall of England in 2121, had become a symbol of international unity. To commemorate the rebuilding, a colossal colosseum, fifty times larger than the original, had been constructed, and the world's best talents gathered to represent their countries. It was a global competition of skill and spectacle, and the stakes were high.
Among these talents was George's father, O.D. Sterling—a magician renowned for his craft. He'd undergone a grueling selection process to prove he was the best, and ultimately, the U.S. government chose him to represent them in the prestigious, government-funded circus. The prize? A staggering thirty million dollars, though inflation meant that sum in 2121 was barely equivalent to three million back in 2011.
George remembered sitting in the stadium with his older brother Lyle, eagerly waiting to see their father perform. The buzz of the crowd, the smell of popcorn—those were moments George held onto. They were waiting to see O.D. Sterling show the world the pinnacle of magic.
A gust of wind blew the window open, snapping George out of his dream. Groggy and confused, he stumbled to close it, realizing it was still dark outside. As he crawled back into bed, he couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable the mattress was. It reminded him of the mid-tier beds sold back home—except here, it was considered top-of-the-line. Even the cheapest bed from his old life was more comfortable.
"Great," George muttered to himself. Tiredness evaporated as his mind raced. He finally gave up trying to sleep and walked over to a nearby table. Lighting a candle with a matchstick, a dim glow spread across the room.
He glanced at the academy admission letter he had filled out earlier. His name and information were already penned in, ready to be sent. The academy only cared about the contents—submitting the letter meant being eligible for the admission test. But just as George folded the paper, a skeletal finger appeared in his peripheral vision.
A shiver ran down his spine as he saw the dark, hooded figure again—the Grim Reaper, always lurking at the edge of his life. "Here too?" George muttered, pointing at the letter, frustration creeping into his voice.
This figure had haunted him since childhood, and no amount of medication or therapy—no technological advancements—had made it go away. Nothing worked. The Reaper was always there, an unwelcome companion.
George's mind drifted back to the first time he had encountered it. He was just eight years old, visiting a theme park with his father and brother. They had been walking along, his father absentmindedly rubbing the ruby on his ring as they passed the various rides. Lyle, bouncing with excitement, had pointed eagerly at the largest roller coaster in the park.
"Dad! Roller coaster!! Please, please can we go?" Lyle had begged, practically vibrating with anticipation.
O.D. Sterling smiled. "Sure, buddy. You're not scared, are you?" He lifted Lyle onto his shoulders, looking up at the towering structure where riders screamed in exhilaration.
Lyle flexed his tiny muscles. "Nope! I'm brave!"
"Good! George, how about you?" O.D. asked, but George had been staring, wide-eyed, at the ride.
"Dad..." George's voice wavered as he pointed. "Why is that skeleton looking at me?"
"Skeleton?" O.D. Sterling had scanned the area but saw nothing.
"Yeah, he's right there," George insisted, still pointing toward an empty space.
O.D. turned to Lyle. "You see a skeleton, Lyle?"
Lyle shook his head. "Nope."
O.D. knelt down to George's level. "What's the skeleton doing?"
"He's staring at me... pointing at the roller coaster."
"The roller coaster?" O.D. looked at the ride, his confusion growing.
Suddenly, George's face twisted in bewilderment. "He's gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
Before George could answer, the ground shook. O.D. immediately threw himself over both of his sons, shielding them.
The air filled with the screech of twisting metal as the roller coaster, moments ago full of screaming riders, crumbled. Dust and smoke clouded the park, turning laughter into screams of terror. When the dust finally settled, O.D. Sterling pulled his sons close, shielding their eyes from the wreckage—mangled bodies strewn across the ground.
That was the first time George had seen the Grim Reaper, but it wasn't the last. Every time he ignored its warnings, disaster followed. And when he didn't, he survived. The one time he hadn't listened, well, that was how he ended up in this strange new world.
"Yeah... there's always another way," George muttered to himself, staring down at the letter. He was ready to submit it but hesitated. As he stood up, he noticed the Reaper pointing toward the door.
"What?" George looked from the letter to the door, both directions eerily indicated by the bony figure.
"So... no matter what I do, I'm going to die?" George asked the Reaper, though he knew it would offer no response.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the letter and the door. **If I walk out, I'll be running from my fate. But if I send the letter... maybe that's how I meet my end.**
With a sigh, George folded the letter, placing it on the table. As he did, he felt the presence of the Grim Reaper fade from the room.