The first time I opened my eyes, I wasn't thinking about the colors or the faces around me—I was thinking about life. Why are we born? What is our purpose? Even as a newborn, it was as if my mind was already racing to figure out the biggest questions of existence.
You're probably wondering how I remember all this. Well, that's because I have eidetic memory. I remember everything—literally everything. From the smallest detail of a conversation I overheard as a child to the most intricate information from every book I've read. It's all there, stored in my mind, scrambled and swirling, always running. It's overwhelming sometimes, but it also made me different.
I was always the smart kid—the one who read through every book, dissected every concept. Once I realized the gift I had, I stopped wasting time and dove into everything I could. I built things. Complex things. I even created an AI and named her Morgan. She was brilliant. She could hold conversations, learn, and evolve. But as much as Morgan intrigued me, she didn't have the answers I was searching for.
You see, even with all this knowledge, no one could understand me. People didn't get the questions that kept me up at night. Why are we born? What is the point of life? What comes after we die? It was like screaming into a void, knowing no one could scream back with an answer. Sometimes, I thought about ending it all, but something deep inside kept me going. It was that relentless drive to figure it out. There had to be a reason for everything—right?
And then it happened. Death. I died. It wasn't poetic or grand. It just… ended. One moment I was there, and the next, I wasn't.
Is this the end? Or the beginning? I thought. But there was no judgment, no bright light, no heaven or hell. Just nothingness. Silence.
Until… I opened my eyes again.
Bright light seared through my skull, and I winced. My head throbbed. Where am I? I blinked, letting my eyes adjust. Slowly, I realized I wasn't floating in the void anymore. I was in a room—a normal-looking room. I lifted my hand. It was a teenager's hand, not mine. What the…?
I looked around. Posters covered the walls—Messi, Ronaldo, and… wait, wait—Tony Stark? My heart raced. I looked down at myself. Definitely not my body. I wasn't me anymore.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room. "[System Activated—Gacha starting]."
And just like that, everything I knew shattered.