The beeping of the heart monitor was steady, rhythm almost mocking. The cold hospital room smelled of disinfectant and death, and Asher Damien could feel his body rotting from the inside. He lay motionless on the stiff mattress, staring at the ceiling, his once-mighty frame reduced to a frail, skeletal form.
He had been called many things in his life. A hero. A shadow. A ghost. A perfect soldier. None of it mattered now.
A group of men in military uniforms stood in silent respect near the doorway. Some saluted. Some clenched their fists. Others turned away, unable to watch the greatest warrior they had ever known waste away like an old dog waiting to die.
"Asher…" The General stepped forward, his voice heavy. "There's nothing we can do."
Asher let out a weak chuckle, his lips barely able to curve upward. "No shit, old man."
The General clenched his jaw. "You deserve better than this."
"Deserve?" Asher's voice was hoarse. "I deserved a bullet. A blade. A battlefield. Not this slow decay."
No one spoke.
Four months ago, he had been the strongest man alive. He had won wars, led impossible missions, and crushed enemies with ruthless efficiency. But brain cancer didn't care about skill. It didn't care about honor. It simply ate away at him, leaving nothing behind but regret.
"Tell me," Asher whispered, closing his eyes. "Did I… do anything meaningful?"
The silence was deafening.
The answer was obvious. He had been a weapon, a killing machine. He had no family, no love, no legacy.
"Sir," one of his soldiers whispered, voice breaking. "You were our legend."
Asher exhaled. "A legend, huh?"
The beeping of the heart monitor slowed.
One of his comrades wiped his eyes. Another gave a trembling salute.
The General stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Rest easy, Ash."
Asher Damien closed his eyes.
And died.
There was no light. No sound.
Only pain.
Asher had always believed that death would be peaceful. That there would be nothing but oblivion after the suffering ended.
But something was wrong.
A sharp, unbearable pain struck through his skull, like a thousand blades slicing through his mind at once. He wanted to scream, but he had no body, no voice.
Memories flooded him. Memories that weren't his.
A different childhood. A different life. A weak body, a bullied existence. A sister.
He saw faces he had never seen before, places he had never been.
But one thing remained the same.
His name.
Asher Damien.
His eyes snapped open.
And the world had changed.
The room was small, cluttered with books, wires, and broken electronics. The scent of dust filled the air. The walls were lined with old posters of long-forgotten games and movies.
Asher sat up, gasping for breath. His hands trembled as he touched his face. The once-chiseled jaw was gone. His muscles, his scars, everything that defined him gone.
He stumbled out of bed, rushing toward the small mirror on the wall.
A stranger stared back at him.
Thin. Pale. Weak.
His heart pounded. This isn't me.
His fingers dug into his face, trying to peel away the illusion, but nothing changed.
Then, the memories returned.
This body belonged to Asher Damien. But not the same Asher Damien.
A bullied nerd. A boy with no friends. A genius with an IQ of 300, yet treated like trash.
And he had a sister.
A sister.
Asher's breath hitched as her face appeared in his mind. Warm brown eyes. A gentle smile. A small hand patting his head after every insult, every humiliation.
For the first time in two lifetimes, he had family.
And for the first time, he was afraid.
Two months passed.
Asher adapted quickly. His instincts, his intelligence they all remained.
He trained in secret, strengthening his body, sharpening his mind. The world was peaceful, but something felt wrong.
Then, on a normal afternoon, the sky split open.
A deafening roar echoed through the city as a portal tore through the sky. The clouds twisted, turning black as monstrous figures began to descend.
The first to fall was a goblin. Small, green, snarling a creature he had only seen in fiction.
People screamed. Cars crashed. The military scrambled to respond.
Asher did not hesitate.
He moved like a ghost, his body reacting on pure instinct.
The goblin lunged at a screaming child.
Asher grabbed a metal pipe from the ground and swung.
The impact shattered the goblin's skull, sending blood splattering across the pavement.
Silence followed.
Then, chaos erupted.
More monsters poured out from the portal, slaughtering everything in sight.
And all Asher could think about was his sister.
Asher ran.
His feet pounded against the pavement, his breaths coming in sharp gasps. The school his sister's school was only a few blocks away.
The closer he got, the worse it became.
Corpses littered the streets. Blood painted the walls. Children, teachers, parents all torn apart.
He reached the entrance, shoving past the bodies.
His sister's classroom was at the end of the hall.
He turned the corner and stopped.
A monster stood over her small body, its claws buried in her stomach.
Blood dripped onto the floor. Her brown eyes, once filled with warmth, looked at him one last time.
She tried to speak, but nothing came out.
And then she was gone.
Asher dropped to his knees, hands trembling.
His vision turned red.
He screamed.
The monster lunged.
And Asher killed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until there was nothing left but corpses and his sister's lifeless body in his arms.
His hands trembled as he whispered, "I'm sorry…"
But she would never hear him.
And he would never forgive himself.