"Come on, Ezra!" yelled a taller man with long, dirty blonde hair, that wore a red-black forest design hoodie with jet black cargo pants and military style steel-toe boots. "Just imagine! We could do anything! And besides, you told me-"
"Yes, yes, 'with every end there's a new beginning waiting', I know. Just please Michael…" Ezra paused for a moment before continuing "please, just stop yelling," Ezra said firmly, to the taller man, Michael, was screaming at. The shorter of the two men had short brown hair, a black hoodless jacket with light black cargo pants, and work boots.
"Okay, fine, but think about it. If we were isekai'd to any anime and I mean any, and I had the ultimate power, you could LITERALLY ask for anything!" Michael was speaking louder and louder, excitement and expectation etched into his voice, he was stomping his feet like a three-year-old would as if it would get a point across. But his companion, Ezra, didn't share the same feeling.
"If I've said it once, I've said it a million times." Ezra repeating this familiar phrase, his voice creeping with a quiet annoyance, a hint of exasperation underlying his otherwise calm demeanor.
With a devious smirk, Michael spoke up, "Two million might be the key" he suggested which almost broke Ezra's legendary patience. Ezra's reputation for calmness and composure was well-known, but Michael's own perseverance was equally as unyielding. It was a combination of skills that could push others to the limit of their patience, perhaps even beyond what was thought to be possible.
Ezra's patience finally ran out, and he let out a sigh of frustration that was all too familiar to any man who had reached their limits "Fine, I'll say it one last time. I would ask to be sent back to my reality. I have a nice, peaceful life here." Ezra looked at Michael, his gaze lingering on the young man's dirty blonde hair that reached past his shoulders. But Ezra's eyes didn't stop there; they continued to wander, past Michael's glasses, and into the man's soft hazel eyes. Ezra could see that Michael's pupils were dilated, an obvious indication that he had been consuming edibles all day. Despite their differences, the two men shared a deep understanding, born from the shared pain of losing those they cared about most.
These conversations they shared were the only thing that kept them both from succumbing to their darkest thoughts. As Michael leaned back and locked eyes with Ezra, he could feel the weight of the other man's gaze on him. It was a look of full determination yet sharp that had the power to bring fear to the hearts of those who encountered it. And there was something about Ezra's stern gray eyes that seemed to cut right into the depths of Michael's soul, digging out even his deepest fears. But before Michael could share his idea, Ezra abruptly got up and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts and a sense of longing for their next conversation.
This made Michael look around a bit, remembering they had entered a restaurant to talk, and saw no one was in the restaurant anymore, except the employees who were waiting for them to leave. Hearing Ezra open the door to leave, he quickly got up and started heading out, not wanting to be left behind.
He quickly met up with Ezra and continued the conversation. "Ok, now seriously, if you could go to any anime verse, which one?" He asked desperation for an answer that would satisfy him increased with every word, making Ezra feel a little bad.
Ezra walked into a game store around the corner and browsed around, knowing that it would give him more time to think about his answer. After a bit, he decided to finally answer. "I know you don't like my past answers, but I like my life here. And yes, I know, that makes me bland, but we both know I don't care about that. Besides, we both know quite a few people who'd go on that 'trip' with you." Ezra began, but never got to finish.
"And that's exactly why I want you to come with me! Your blandness would keep me out of a lot of trouble!" He looked as though he had more to say, but he saw Ezra didn't seem to care much. Michael went to browse the games, seeing if there was anything new he could get.
It was clear as day that in their relationship that Ezra was the most intellectual one out of the two of them, from being cautious to his high intelligence he was always better but it's always been that way since they were in highschool. It didn't help that Ezra was also the stronger one, with more experience through survival. But Michael only saw Ezra helping him and having the patience to deal with him.
"You know Michael," Ezra began, a smile formed on his face. Michael looked at him and saw the smile, almost regretting his decision to listen. "I've gotten into Baffling Girlfriend"
With that, Michael shot an upset look and sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Another Romantic Comedy seriously?"
"I told you, I'm bland." Ezra stated, watching as Michael chose a game and walked to the counter, and paid for the new game. Ezra looked around and found a game that caught his eye. "I do like fantasy, though." He said, picking up Old Ring from the game display.
Michael almost shouted in excitement as he heard that, "Finally! We have made some progress."
When they exited the store, Ezra was at first blinded by the sun transferring to evening. He put four fingers below it before turning to Michael. "About forty-five minutes of sunlight left. I've gotta start heading home."
Michael looked at him in curiosity, then shook his head. "Dude, you're a full ass adult. Why a curfew?" He didn't get a response as Ezra just walked away in his unnaturally short and slow strides.
"Dude, come on! You know you're the only one who would talk to me now!" Michael stated, now trying to get pity from his last genuine friend. Unfortunately, it didn't work.
"You know you're not getting pity sympathy from me and besides," Ezra began, not looking at Michael with sharp yet tired eyes. "Whose fault is it that almost everyone hates him?"
This made Michael retreat to his mind and replay memories of him scamming and stealing from his used-to-be friends. A tear ran down his cheek as he regrets not being able to tell those people the reasons behind his actions. So he quickly changed the subject before he officially ended the night.
"Okay, okay, fair enough, but now, in all seriousness, you need to get out of the woods more often." Michael said, turning away from him and pulling out a bag of rolled up leaves, just to take one out and light it.
Ezra looked at Michael in surprised disgust. "You hated all types of smoking. What happened?" It was true ever since Michael was little, he hated smoking even if it was just on T.V.
Michael let out a soft chuckle, as he took three puffs and watched the clouds of smoke disappear into the air before answering, "It hits quicker when you smoke it." Michael said. But he didn't get a response, as he only heard a motorcycle start up as Ezra put on his helmet.
Ezra looked back at Michael before doing his signature little two-finger salute. Then drove off. "How is he so quiet? I didn't even hear him walk away. I mean, he parked across the street as well. How did I not see him?" Michael asked himself aloud. He cut his ramble short when a feeling of being watched washed over him. He calmly walked back to his car. As he walked, he noticed the three people in the alley and the two in their cars as he walked. He got in his car and sped away.
It wasn't long before Michael noticed the cars following him, and knew exactly who it was. "Damn, three weeks. I guess John's lost his touch." Even though Michael sounded calm, he was now in a complete panic as he sped up, trying to get to his house faster. But it wasn't long before he heard a loud bang and screeching. Up became down and down became up as his car flipped from the road and crash down into the cement.
The doors of the cars following him opened up, and he saw four exited the vehicles and heard the click of guns being cocked. But only one walked towards Michael's car. It was a short, stubby man with a beard. "You shouldn't have stolen from me, Michael, you could have escaped this." the short stubby man said with a fake Russian accent. Michael knew this voice it belonged to one of Michael's use-to-be friends.
"Aww I missed you too Stubby Satan." Michael said, in a mocking yet joking tone calling John by the nick name Michael had given him back in highschool. "Y'know, you have the absolute worst timing ever?"
John just knelt down and looked at Michael, smiling. "Payday, huh? Oh well, can't let you walk away from this anywho." John said, as he got up and walked back towards his car. "Don't even leave ashes. I don't want to see him again."
Michael just watched as they got out enough C4 to make even a mountain vanish, and threw it on his car. Watching, Michael waited for them to turn their backs to get in the car, before crawling out of the other door and began running. As he ran, the shock-wave of the blast pushed him to the ground. He didn't stay down long cause he got up as quickly as he fell and started running.
It's only a few blocks from my house. I can make it before they realise more than just ashes remained! Michael's mind was racing with near death thoughts as his body was surging forward completely off adrenaline and fear. He got to a familiar road before he turned to his house and slammed open the door.
The house was small and dark, with only a simple loveseat and sofa chair in front of his T.V. Michael looked around for his handgun, as he rushed around the house, then found it. It was a carbon fibre .45 gap, gifted to him from Ezra. It wasn't long after before he heard a car screech to a stop in front of his house.
"With every end, there's a new beginning waiting..." Michael mumbled, before stepping out of his back door to round his house and find the intruders, only to be met with a bullet in his left calf and his right shoulder blade.
As Michael fell, he saw John slowly walk up to him, pick his gun, and as he aimed the gun at him, John let out a smile. "I don't see a scratch on you from the crash or the explosion, so I guess you don't pride yourself on your durability for naught." John said as continues, nerve splitting cracks of gunfire punctuated the night.
_______________
Ezra was already home, lumbered up to his house. It was clean, quiet, and empty. As he went in, he quickly closed the door behind him and walked to his shrine of pictures. Each photo showed the poignant image of a family member now lost. On the right, his father and two full-blooded brothers were in multiple frames. On the left, his mother and all four of his half siblings. And in the middle, his beloved wife and three precious children, who were never to reach adulthood.
Ezra picked up the picture frame of his children as his eye welled with tears, cursing fate for taking them from him. He gently set the photo down and clenched fists until his nails punctured his skin. A thin trickle of crimson blood ran down his knuckles, deciding to instead leave the shrine and go to bed. Or he was until he heard someone, multiple cars, pull up in the driveway.
Ezra looked out the window and immediately knew who it was. "John... what does he want?" Ezra mumbled and let out a sly chuckled at the nickname Michael had given John back in highschool bringing some joy into the somber night as he was walking towards the door.
"Hello comrade." John said jokingly with a fake Russian accent as Ezra went to see him. "I need to discuss with you the layout of all my problems with buyer."
"Stop selling, problem solved." Ezra replied, in a half joking, half mocking manner.
"You see, you know why I can't do that." Ezra just looked at John with tired eyes stained with tears. "Did I come at a bad time?" John dropped his joking demeanour and Russian accent, taking on a serious face.
Ezra nodded his head, fighting the urge to kill him. "It's my wife's birthday today."
You'd expect the world most wanted man not to care, but John was different in this manner. "Oh... well then, I guess this can wait for tomorrow." John said, now turning around and leaving, but he didn't get far. A loud bang rang through the night. John fell to the ground, his body now lifeless.
"That's for Michael." Ezra knew Michael was a customer and knew how John dealt with problem customers. All of John's crew sat there in shock, not knowing what to do. Ultimately, some decided to fight while others ran away.
Ezra just walked towards his house, doing a simple dodge and weave to John's goons. Until he reached the front door and heard the distinct sound of a round of ammunition loaded into its chamber in. He dashed to the right of his house to a neatly kept shed.
"I hope they know how to run." Ezra mumbled, grabbing his bow and arrows. As the goons walked towards the shed, they couldn't notice a figure in the forest behind it, drawing back a bowstring and releasing an arrow through someone's skull.
The goons panicked, looking around to find who released that arrow, only for another one of them to get hit. One by one, they fell. All until there was one person left. Ezra decided to spare the unlucky soul and shot his leg, then saying the following words, "Get out of here before I send you to hell with the rest of them." The goon tried to get a bead on him, but he soon heard the front door open.
As Ezra walked in his house, he contemplated many things. All of them were about how he was truly alone, no one in his family left alive, all his friends were gone or dead, and his own wife and children died through disease. He looked at the gun he shot John with, checked the chamber, then seriously considered putting the bullet through his head.
Gazing at the picture of his wife and children, he took it out of the frame, shed one last tear, and pulled the trigger.
_______________
Michael woke in a seemingly endless land of nothing. He looked around only to find a vast plain of black void, with no visible end or ground. He tried to move and get up, but his leg and shoulder ached as though the pain of the bullet had followed him into the ether. So he laid there longer. "This pain is like a Sunday morning drive." he said to himself, though no sound left his mouth.
He laid there for what felt like hours with his eyes closed, not doing anything, at some points wondering why the light of rebirth has yet to come for him. As he lay there floating through the void, he concluded that this was his punishment for his life of sin. When he had accepted this as truth, he tried to get up again, this time feeling no pain, but his feet landed on something solid. Instead, he felt unnaturally light, as though his body weighed nothing. Anyone who knew him wouldn't be surprised that the sudden loss of weight wasn't what fascinated him the most. Michael crouched down and tapped the floor.
"Your eyes always did light up with curiosity over the simplest of things." The voice drew Michael's attention from the unnaturally solid void. He turned around to the familiar voice to see Ezra sitting upon a crimson colored rock, staring at him. Lava flowed around him like a river and yet somehow ice crystals formed behind him, making him some sort of chair. Throne?
"I guess I've been in here too long already. I'm beginning to see things," Michael said in shock.
"I know you love black, but this place is bland even for me. Let's go someplace better?" With that, the surrounding area transformed into a giant garden with an odd tree in the middle. "How about the Garden of Eden?"
Michael tried to speak but still no sound exited his lips. He took a fruit from a bush and marvelled at its seemingly perfect shape and size before deciding to try it. Though it was different from regular fruit, he felt something inside him change.
"What the hell?" Michael's voice scratched out, finally able to speak once more. Ezra just smirked, reaching around himself to pluck a few strawberries and eat some himself. "What kind of fucking fruit is this?" Michael asks in pure astonishment.
Ezra just looked at him, shrugging. "Fruit, that's it. Your soul just needed to calm down from John killing you."
"Wait, one holy fucking minute. How the fuck do you know about that?" Despite it being a question, Michael demanded the answer instead of asking for it.
"Well, for one, John doesn't visit me out of the blue like you do." Ezra said, now walking towards the tree in the middle of the garden. "Second," He looked back, "Are you coming or not?" He watched as Michael quickly caught up with him, grabbing fruit as he went. "Second, God has something for us and so he told me a lot about your life."
"FUCKING GO-" Michael wasn't able to finish his sentence because Ezra had shoved one of the fruits from the forbidden tree into Michael's mouth.
"If you know what's good for you, do not eat that." Ezra said, his grey eyes seeing the confusion on Michael's face. "This is the tree of knowledge of good and evil"
Michael quickly spat out the apple. "THEN WHY SHOVE IT IN MY MOUTH AT ALL?" He asked, anger oozing from every word. He picked up the apple and decided to keep it. Then a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, how did you die?'
Ezra almost spat out his bite of a mango with that question. Coughing as he tried to calm down to answer Michael. "... um..." Another cough, "I uh, kinda committed... suicide."
"You had more people than I did to keep you from jumping off the edge. So why'd you do it?" Michael asked, now no longer with any expression of happiness, now with worry.
"He felt as though there was nothing left for him so, as he drowned in the depression he once swam in, he took his own life in hopes of meeting his family once more." Michael turned to the unknown voice, to see a person walk up to him in jeans and a white t-shirt.
"Um, who are you?" Michael asked, of the man he saw who seemed to have a perfect complexion and brown eyes that seemed to see through any lies.
"That depends. You're Norse Pegan, so to you, I'm the All Father," He said, pointing at Michael, then pointing at Ezra. "To you, I'm God, though we've already met."
Michael took time to think about this, then began to question it. "Wait, wait, wait, I thought that only one religion was the real one?" Michael asked, hoping that this man is not the only one.
The man laughed a little as he looked at Michael. "Son, through life and death, religions have been made and destroyed more times than I'd hope. But I also saw it coming ever since Adam and Eve. Tell me, Child, what's the difference between each and every religion?"
Michael thought, though in his mind it had been obvious, "The only reason I picked Norse Pegan was because it seemed to be the most fun."
The man looked at Michael, a smile still on his face. "Perspective. Each and Every God and Goddess was made in perspective. The Aztecs and the Greeks both had numerous gods, but their gods were no different than those of the Roman Gods, or even Celtic Gods. They prayed and wished for survival and they were gifted with crops and rain and sun. When Persephone was trapped in the underworld, the earth felt the northern winters, or maybe Ragnarok broke through and fell upon the humans. Or maybe it was just the daily cycle of the earth. It's all in perspective."
Michael didn't know what to say. He so badly wanted to correct him, but he spoke with a voice that put Odin's booming voice to shame, and the wisdom that put Mimir's mind to shame. Then he found a question he should've asked first. "What do you want with us?"
Instead of the man answering, though, Ezra replied. "If you were given a chance to be reborn into a world, would you take it, and where would you go?"