Charlotte Sprigs was never one to take things too seriously. Life had a funny way of surprising her, whether through the randomness of her own adventures or through the quiet moments she shared with her boyfriend, Dean Wolfenstein. She had met him during one of those unexpected days, the kind you never plan for but that end up changing everything. It was a rainy afternoon by the beach, and despite the downpour, she had insisted on taking a walk, needing space to clear her head. That's when she'd seen him—sitting under the awning of a small café, staring out at the waves with a quiet intensity that piqued her curiosity.
Their conversation had started with something trivial, a remark about the weather, perhaps, but it had quickly evolved into something more. They had connected, two souls who seemed to be waiting for each other, and from that day on, Charlotte's life had been brighter.
Now, three years later, she sat in the passenger seat of Dean's little Nissan Colt, staring out at the setting sun as the city sped past her window. The golden light bathed the skyline in a soft, warm glow, making everything seem just a little more magical. Charlotte leaned her head against the glass, her wild, curly hair spilling over her shoulders in a brown tangle of soft waves. She absently traced patterns on the window with her fingers, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Dean drove quietly beside her, his eyes focused on the road ahead, though he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He had always loved how effortlessly beautiful she was, how her tan skin seemed to catch the light in a way that made her glow. Even now, in the car, doing nothing in particular, she looked radiant.
"You're quiet today," Dean said, his voice low but warm. It was more of an observation than a question. He knew her well enough to sense when something was on her mind.
Charlotte turned her gaze from the window and looked at him, her brown eyes sparkling with affection. "Just thinking," she said softly. "It's a perfect evening, isn't it?"
Dean smiled at her, that familiar, comforting smile that always made her feel safe. "Yeah," he agreed, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "It is."
But there was something in his voice—an edge of nervousness that Charlotte hadn't heard before. She studied him for a moment, noticing how he kept checking his pocket, the way his fingers drummed anxiously on the leather steering wheel. He was planning something. She could feel it.
Charlotte didn't press him, though. She had an idea of what it was, but she didn't want to spoil the surprise. Dean wasn't exactly subtle when he was nervous, and she had seen him acting this way for the past few days. They had been planning this beach date for weeks, and she knew Dean well enough to guess that this evening was about more than just a nice night out. He was going to propose.
Her heart fluttered at the thought. She could almost picture it now—the two of them standing by the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing in the background, the stars beginning to twinkle overhead. He would take her hand, drop to one knee, and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. It was romantic, and perfectly Dean.
Charlotte sighed contentedly, her smile widening as she imagined the moment. She had loved him for so long now, it felt like they were already connected in some deeper way. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but from the moment they met, she had felt as though they had known each other forever. It was as if their souls had been linked long before they had ever exchanged words.
As the car neared the intersection, the traffic lights blinked from green to yellow, and Dean slowed down, preparing to stop. The road ahead was clear, and for a moment, everything seemed peaceful. The radio played softly in the background, a familiar song that Charlotte recognized but couldn't quite name. She leaned back in her seat, letting the warm, cozy feeling of the evening wrap around her like a blanket.
But then, it happened.
Out of nowhere, a blaring horn shattered the calm. Charlotte's eyes snapped open, and before she could register what was happening, a bright flash of headlights filled the car. Dean's hands jerked the steering wheel, but it was too late. The world tilted violently as the car was hit from the side, the force of the impact sending them spinning into a terrifying spiral.
The sound of screeching tires, shattering glass, and crushing metal filled Charlotte's ears. Her body was thrown against the seatbelt, the air knocked from her lungs as the car flipped over once, twice, before finally coming to a stop. Everything was upside down. Distantly, she heard Dean shout her name, but the sound seems muffled, far away.
Charlotte tried to move, but her body wouldn't respond. Her head throbbed painfully, her vision swimming as the world around her blurred. She could feel the blood trickling down the side of her face, but her mind was too foggy to make sense of anything. All she could focus on was the fact that Dean was still calling her name, his voice strained and panicked.
"Charlotte!" Dean's voice was desperate now, choked with fear. He reached for her, his own body battered and broken from the crash, but his only thought was of her. He needed to know she was okay. He needed to protect her.
But Charlotte didn't respond.
Her eyes fluttered shut, the pain becoming too much, and slowly, she slipped away into the darkness.
—-—————————————————————————
Dean gasped, his eyes snapping open to find himself not in the wreckage of the car, but standing in a vast, empty space. His heart pounded in his chest, his body still aching from the crash, but the world around him was eerily calm. There was no sound, no movement—just an endless void stretching out in all directions.
"Where...where am I?" he muttered, his voice sounding strangely hollow in the emptiness.
As if in response, the space around him shifted, the darkness parting to reveal six figures standing in a circle. Each one of them radiated an otherworldly energy, their forms glowing with an ethereal light that made it difficult for Dean to look directly at them.
"You stand before the Sacred Six, Keepers of Worlds and Protectors of Realms," a deep, resonant voice boomed. The figure who had spoken stepped forward, revealing himself to be an older man dressed in a Victorian-era suit. His slicked-back black hair and sharp black eyes gave him a stern, almost grim appearance. He smelled faintly of cigars and whiskey, and in his hand, he held a cane. His eyes had dark circles, speaking of a being who never rest.
Dean's breath caught in his throat when he realised who he was standing in front of.
Death.
Next to Death stood a middle-aged black woman with waist-length locs and a warm, nurturing presence. She wore a flowing white dress, her dark green eyes filled with kindness, but there was an undeniable strength beneath her motherly exterior. She gave Dean a small smile, though her expression was somber.
"We are the ones who maintain the balance of this world," Life said, her voice soft but powerful. "And you, Dean Wolfenstein, have defied that balance."
Dean's mind raced. He didn't understand what was happening. One moment, he had been in the car with Charlotte, and the next, he was here, standing before these beings. "I don't...I don't understand," he stammered. "Where is Charlotte? Is she okay?"
A low chuckle echoed from one of the figures, a young girl dressed in Harajuku-style clothing, her hair tied up in wild pigtails. "Oh, she's definitely not okay," the girl said, her tone mocking. "You crashed your car, remember? She's dead. You both are."
Dean's blood ran cold. Dead? No, that couldn't be right. They had just been going to the beach. He had planned to propose. How could everything have gone so wrong?
"I need to see her," Dean said, his voice shaking. "Please, let me see her."
"We are not in the business of granting requests," the boy next to the girl said sternly. He was dressed in feudal Japanese armor, his red-and-gold eyes narrowing at Dean. "But we will listen to your plea."
Dean's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground before them. "I'll do anything," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just let me be with her again. I can't lose her. Not like this."
The six were silent for a long moment, their eyes studying Dean as he knelt before them, his heart laid bare. Finally, Life stepped forward, her expression softening. "Your love for her is pure," she said quietly. "But love alone is not enough."
Death sneered, his black eyes cold and unfeeling. "He doesn't deserve a second chance," he muttered. "His time was up."
"Perhaps," Life said, turning to face him. "But perhaps there is more to his story. He defied the natural order, he defied us all for her. She must've been one hell of a woman."
Destiny, a tall, mysterious woman with two faces that shifted like masks, stepped forward. Her voice was monotone, devoid of emotion, as she addressed Dean. "We will give you one chance," she said. "One chance to be with her again."
Dean's heart leapt. "Anything," he breathed. "I'll do anything."
"You will be reincarnated into another world," Destiny continued, her faces shifting as she spoke. "But you will face trials, challenges that will test the strength of your love and your will. If you succeed, you will find her again. But if you fail..."
Dean swallowed hard. "I won't fail," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'll find her. I'll always find her."
The sacred six nodded in unison, and the world around Dean began to dissolve into light. The last thing he heard before everything went dark was Life's gentle voice, echoing in the void.
"Remember, Dean Wolfenstein—love is the greatest power of all. Use it wisely."