Max's consciousness drifted through a void, the remnants of his encounter with the glitchy figure lingering like a bad dream. The harsh words, the stripping of his power, the challenge to prove his worth—it all felt distant, like echoes from another life. But as his awareness returned, he was met with a strange sensation, one that was both foreign and unsettling.
His body felt… different. Heavy. Weak. It was as if he was trying to move through water, every muscle sluggish and unresponsive. Panic began to bubble up inside him as he tried to lift an arm, a leg—anything—but his body refused to obey.
Max's vision slowly focused, revealing a dimly lit room. The ceiling was cracked and yellowed, and the air smelled faintly of antiseptic. He realized he was lying in a bed, his body swaddled in thin, worn sheets. A weak light filtered in through a small, grimy window, casting long shadows across the room.
Where am I? Max thought, his heart pounding in his chest. He attempted to speak, to cry out, but his lips barely parted. His voice was no more than a dry rasp, barely audible.
His fingers twitched, the only movement he could manage. Max struggled against the overwhelming lethargy that gripped him, forcing himself to take in his surroundings. Beside the bed, a small, battered nightstand held a few items—a half-empty bottle of water, some faded family photographs, and a cheap, worn-out alarm clock that ticked quietly in the background.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman entered the room. Her face was lined with exhaustion, her clothes threadbare and patched. She carried a tray with a bowl of thin soup and a piece of stale bread. Her eyes, though weary, softened as she approached the bed.
"Sobbery…" she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and hope. She set the tray down on the nightstand and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Max's—no, Sobbery's—forehead.
Max's heart skipped a beat. Sobbery? The name echoed in his mind, unfamiliar yet strangely fitting. He had no idea who Sobbery was, but the woman's tender touch and the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. This was his mother—or rather, Sobbery's mother.
Memories that weren't his own began to flood his mind, disjointed and painful. He saw flashes of a young boy—Sobbery—being tormented by his classmates, their taunts ringing in his ears. He felt the sickening lurch of falling, the cold, hard impact, and then… nothing. Sobbery had been thrown from the top of a school building, left to die. But he hadn't died. He had been left in a vegetative state, his body a prison, his mind trapped in darkness.
Max's breath quickened, his pulse racing. This can't be happening… But the reality of the situation was undeniable. He had been reincarnated, just as the god had promised—but in a way he had never expected. He was in Sobbery's body, a body that had been broken and discarded.
The woman—his mother—began to feed him, spooning the thin soup into his mouth with careful, practiced movements. As the warm liquid slid down his throat, Max could feel the desperation in her actions, the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, today would be different.
And then it happened.
Max's hand, the one that had barely managed a twitch before, moved. It wasn't much, just a slight clenching of his fingers, but it was enough. His mother gasped, the spoon clattering to the floor as she stared at him in shock.
"Sobbery…?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you…?"
Max's eyes met hers, and for the first time, he managed to nod, just barely. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Tears welled up in his mother's eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she covered her mouth with her hands, unable to believe what she was seeing.
"Sobbery… my boy… you're awake… you're awake!"
Her cry echoed through the small house, and soon, other family members appeared at the door—an elderly man with a cane, a young girl with a dirty apron, a teenage boy with a weary expression. They all crowded into the room, their eyes wide with disbelief and joy.
Max's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. He didn't know how this had happened, how he had ended up in this fragile, broken body. But as he looked into the tear-filled eyes of Sobbery's family, he felt something stir within him. A sense of purpose, of resolve. He had been given a second chance—no, a challenge. And he wasn't about to waste it.
The god's words echoed in his mind: Prove yourself, Max. Prove that you are more than just brute force.
Max clenched his hand again, feeling the muscles tremble with effort. He had a long road ahead of him, one filled with pain and struggle. But as he looked at the faces of those around him, he knew he couldn't give up.
Not this time.
The days that followed Sobbery's miraculous awakening were a whirlwind of emotions. His family rejoiced, celebrating what they called a miracle, while Max—trapped within this fragile body—struggled to make sense of his new reality. The once powerful Max, now Sobbery, found himself facing a life that was not his own, burdened with the memories and traumas of a boy who had known nothing but pain and humiliation.
The whispers began as soon as Sobbery returned to school, rumors spreading like wildfire. The boy who had been in a coma for months had suddenly awakened, and though his body was weak, the scars of his past were fresh and raw. Every hallway, every classroom was a reminder of what had been done to him—the sneers, the taunts, the cruel laughter. The other students watched him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, their eyes lingering too long, their words cutting too deep.
Max seethed beneath the surface, his frustration growing with each passing day. He could feel Sobbery's memories melding with his own, the pain and humiliation intertwining with his anger. It was like a fire that refused to die, burning hotter and hotter, threatening to consume him.
In the classroom, the teacher droned on, but Max wasn't listening. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in a cycle of rage and bitterness. The students around him snickered, their voices a dull hum in the background. They had no idea what he was capable of—what he used to be capable of. But now, in this pathetic body, he was powerless. Helpless.
His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles white. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them all pay. The bullies who had pushed Sobbery to the edge, the teachers who had turned a blind eye, the students who had watched and done nothing—they all deserved to suffer.
And then, as if on cue, they appeared.
The same group of boys who had tormented Sobbery before. Their leader, a tall, broad-shouldered boy with a cruel smirk, sauntered over to Max's desk. He leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid. "Look who's back from the dead," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "How's the view from up there, huh? Did you like flying, Sobbery?"
Max's blood boiled, his fists clenching so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. He could hear the other students laughing, their cruel jabs echoing in his mind. It took everything he had not to lash out, not to unleash the anger that simmered just beneath the surface.
But he was powerless. And that realization only fueled his rage.
The bully continued, his words like poison. "You're still the same pathetic loser, aren't you? What, you think waking up is gonna change anything? A little bit courage in the brink of death and you thought yourself as a hero?HAh...you think world will go around you ? You're still nothing. Just a piece of trash that should've stayed in that hospital bed."
Max couldn't take it anymore. The rage, the humiliation—it was too much. His vision blurred, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He could feel something inside him snap, like a dam breaking, releasing all the pent-up fury he had kept at bay.
And then time seemed to slow.
The voices around him faded, the laughter and taunts becoming distant echoes. The bully's smirk froze on his face, his hand still outstretched as if to shove Max again. Everything around Max moved in slow motion, like the world had suddenly become submerged in thick, heavy syrup.
A figure materialized in front of him, appearing as if out of thin air. It was the same glitchy presence from before, but this time it was more solid, more real. The figure's form still flickered at the edges, as if it was caught between realities, but its eyes—glowing with an otherworldly light—were locked onto Max.
"You're angry, aren't you?" The god's voice was calm, almost soothing, but there was an undercurrent of something darker—something dangerous. "You want to make them suffer. You want to show them what it means to cross you."
Max stared at the god, his chest heaving with suppressed rage. "They deserve it," he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "They deserve everything that's coming to them."
The god tilted its head, its eyes narrowing. "Perhaps they do. But what about you, Max? What do you deserve?"
Max's breath hitched. "What are you talking about? I—"
"Do you want power?" the god interrupted, its voice growing colder, more intense.
"Do you want the strength to make them pay? To crush them beneath your heel like the insects they are?"
Max's heart pounded in his chest. The god's words were like a drug, intoxicating, tempting. The thought of having his power back, of being able to exact his revenge—it was almost too much to resist.
"Yes," Max whispered, his voice barely audible. "I want it back. I want my power."
The god's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Very well. But know this, Max—this power comes with a price. You cannot kill. Not a single life may be taken by your hand. If you do, the power will be stripped from you once more, and you will be cast down even lower than before."
Max's heart raced, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The thought of having his power back, of being able to make them all suffer—it was too tempting. But the god's warning hung in the air, a dark cloud over his thoughts.
"Can you do that, Max?" the god asked, its voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very air around him. "Can you wield this power without crossing that line ,a line that separates between them and you?"
Max hesitated, his mind torn between the overwhelming desire for revenge and the fear of losing everything again. He wanted to say yes, to accept the power without hesitation. But deep down, he knew that the rage inside him was uncontrollable, a beast that wouldn't be easily tamed.
The god seemed to sense his hesitation, its eyes narrowing. "Remember, Max—this power is a double-edged sword. It can either save you or destroy you. The choice is yours."
Max gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He could feel the power thrumming just beneath the surface, waiting for him to reach out and claim it. But the god's warning echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the consequences.
Finally, Max nodded, his voice strained. "I'll do it. I'll take the power. But I won't kill."
The god's smile widened, a cruel, knowing grin. "Good. Then let's see what you can do, Max. Show me whether you're worthy of this power—or whether you'll fall once again."
And with that, the god vanished, leaving Max alone in the frozen moment. Time resumed its normal pace, and the bully's hand finally connected with Max's chest, shoving him backward.
But this time, Max didn't stumble. He didn't fall. He stood tall, his eyes burning with a new intensity, a newfound strength surging through his veins.
The bully's smirk faltered as he noticed the change in Max's demeanor. "What's wrong, Sobbery? You finally gonna fight back?"
Max didn't respond. He didn't need to. The power thrummed beneath his skin, waiting—begging—to be unleashed. But he held it back, just barely, remembering the god's warning.
The bully swung at him again, but this time, Max caught his fist mid-air, his grip like iron. The bully's eyes widened in shock, fear flickering across his face for the first time.
Max leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."
With a flick of his wrist, Max sent the bully crashing to the ground, the other students gasping in shock. The tables had turned, and for the first time, it was they who were afraid.
But as Max stood over the fallen bully, the god's warning echoed in his mind. No killing. He had to be careful, had to control the rage that burned so fiercely within him.
This was his second chance. And he wasn't about to waste it.
The day at school had been a turning point. For the first time, Sobbery had fought back, repelling the bully and his cronies with a strength he hadn't realized he possessed. The shock on their faces, the fear that had flickered in their eyes—it had been exhilarating. Max, still trapped within Sobbery's body, felt a grim satisfaction at the shift in power. But the god's warning echoed in his mind, tempering his victory with a sense of unease. He had tasted power again, but it came with a heavy price—one he was determined not to pay.
As the school day ended, Sobbery made his way home, the memory of the bully's sneer still fresh in his mind. The adrenaline from the confrontation had left him jittery, his nerves on edge. He was no longer the weak, helpless boy everyone had known, but with that strength came a dark, simmering anger that he struggled to keep under control.
When he arrived at his small, run-down home, the first thing Sobbery noticed was the eerie silence. The usual sounds of his family going about their evening routine were absent, replaced by a stillness that set his teeth on edge. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he stepped through the doorway, his heart pounding in his chest.
And then he saw him—the bully, standing in the middle of the living room, a cruel smile playing on his lips. But it wasn't just the bully's presence that made Sobbery's blood run cold. It was the scene behind him.
On the altar, where the family's simple offerings to their ancestors usually rested, were the severed heads of .........Sobbery's family.
Their lifeless eyes stared blankly into nothingness, their expressions frozen in a grotesque mix of terror and pain. The sight was so horrific, so unfathomable, that it took Sobbery several moments to fully comprehend what he was seeing.
The bully's voice cut through the silence like a knife, dripping with venom. "Ahh Sobbery, how dare you beat my men when I was away? You think you're some hero? That was just luck. Now, become my sacrifice,you will be same as your family in heaven,And i will live a life full of riches,and dont bother to call police,my brother is the police cheif,my father is president of this countey,and i have more people under me,i am a prince of the world."
The bully's words barely registered in Sobbery's mind. All he could see were the faces of his mother, father, and younger sister—mangled, lifeless, destroyed. The rage that had simmered within him all day now erupted, a violent, uncontrollable force that consumed him entirely.
Sobbery—no, Max—struck out with all the power he had, his vision blurred with tears and fury. There was no hesitation, no second thought. His fist connected with the bully's chest, and the force of the blow was catastrophic. The bully didn't even have time to scream before his body disintegrated into nothingness, reduced to mere particles by the sheer magnitude of Max's unleashed power.
But it didn't end there. The power surged out of him in uncontrollable waves, shattering the walls of the house, obliterating everything in its path. The entire planet trembled under the force, unable to withstand the intensity of Max's rage. In an instant, it was decimated—reduced to rubble and ash, leaving only a vast, empty void where life once thrived.
In a distant corner of the universe, a family gathered to celebrate their daughter's fifth birthday. Laughter filled the room as the little girl, excited and full of joy, leaned over her cake, ready to blow out the candles.
"Look, Father! The star is giving me wishes!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she noticed a blinding light expanding in the sky.
Her father, beaming with happiness, lifted her up, his heart swelling with pride. "Quick, my dear, make your wishes."
The little girl closed her eyes, her face lit with excitement. "For my next birthday, I want the new Noy Choco Bar that came out this Sunday!" she wished with all her heart.
But just as the words left her lips, the expanding light engulfed them. The room, the cake, the laughter—all vanished in an instant. The family, the joy, the life they had known—wiped out in the blink of an eye. Nothing remained but a void, cold and silent, as if the planet had never existed.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything slowed.
Max stood amidst the ruins, the weight of his actions pressing down on him with crushing force. The god's presence was suffocating, its glitchy form now more solid, more imposing. The world around them was distorted, time itself seeming to bend under the sheer power of the divine being before him. But there was no sympathy in the god's eyes—only cold, unyielding judgment.
"You think you can just unleash your rage and walk away unscathed?" the god's voice was sharp, like a blade cutting through the silence. "Did you truly believe you could wield such power without consequence? Look around you, Max. Look at the devastation you've caused."
Max's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he stared at the destruction around him. The homes, the people—all gone in an instant because of him. He had wanted revenge, wanted to make those who wronged him suffer, but he had lost control. And now, he was left with nothing but the ashes of his rage.
"I warned you," the god continued, its tone growing colder, more ruthless. "I gave you a chance to prove yourself, to show that you were worthy of the power you once held. But you failed. You allowed your anger to consume you, to dictate your actions. And for that, you must pay the price."
Max opened his mouth to plead, to beg for another chance, but the god's expression silenced him. There would be no mercy, no forgiveness. The god had seen enough.
"You have proven yourself unworthy," the god spat, its voice laced with contempt. "And now, you will face the consequences of your actions."
With a swift motion, the god raised its hand, and Max felt an unbearable pain erupt within him. It was as if his very soul was being torn apart, shattered into a million pieces. He screamed, the sound echoing through the desolate landscape, but there was no one to hear him. No one to save him.
The god watched, unflinching, as Max's soul was ripped from his body, fragmented, and then cast into a swirling vortex of darkness. The pain was excruciating, beyond anything Max had ever imagined. It felt like an eternity, each second stretching out into an infinite expanse of suffering.
But the god was not done. As Max's shattered soul hovered on the brink of oblivion, the god reached out, seizing it and hurling it into a pool of swirling, dark energy. The pool churned and bubbled, filled with the cries of countless souls who had met the same fate.
"You will be reincarnated," the god said, its voice echoing ominously in the void. "But not as the powerful being you once were. You will be reborn as a mortal, in a world far more ruthless than you could ever imagine. A world where strength alone will not save you."
Max's fragmented soul trembled as it was pulled deeper into the pool, the god's words ringing in his ears.
"You will have nothing but your strength," the god continued, its tone dark and foreboding. "No power, no divine gifts—just the raw, uncontrollable force you carry within you. You will be cast into a world on the brink of destruction, and you will be tasked with saving it and I know you will save the world because you are weak minded max.see life as ants crush them or cherish them emotional attachment is useless,if you want power become someone that can handle it. Not because you are a hero, but because it is the only way you can atone for your sins."
The god's voice grew darker, a malevolent edge creeping into its tone. "Try to control it this time, Max. You have much to see, much to suffer through. . Let's see if you can survive, if you can control the darkness within you. Or if you will become the very thing you sought to destroy."
The god's laughter, cold and merciless, echoed as Max's soul was pulled deeper into the pool. The darkness consumed him, the god's final words seared into what remained of his consciousness.
"Welcome to your new life, Max. Try not to die too quickly."