I died today.

Or was it yesterday?

I can't recall…

In the boundless void of nothingness, Luke's soul drifted aimlessly.

An unknown amount of time had passed since he had died, yet miraculously he found himself able to think independently—something he hadn't realized yet.

He, or rather his soul, sighed to himself in regret, Such a short life it was.

I wish… I could have gotten to live a little longer.

Stripped to a wheelchair for as far as I could remember, I couldn't even use the bathroom without help.

But… it had its good moments too, didn't it? I got to spend time with such lovely people at the orphanage. Yeah… they were pretty nice to me.

Luke's thoughts suddenly paused when he thought of the orphanage. It was a place he called home.

Or used to, anyway.

What will become of my friends back home? And the little ones… I wonder if they'll miss me?

At the very least, the life insurance payout from my death should take care of them. That's the only silver lining in all of this, I suppose.

As his thoughts started to become clearer, he recalled the cause of his death.

Spinal Muscular Atrophy… Those last few months were truly excruciating.

Thank God for granting me peace.

Oh, and thank you, Marcus Aurelius!

Wait a minute… I can think?

At last, realization dawned on him.

I can think!

Is this how it usually goes for everyone?

Uh, so what now? Do I just wait? Or… Hmm, come to think of it, I can't feel my body.

Oh, that's right! It must have been already buried deep underground by now.

But it's strange that I'm able to think, though…

Suddenly, he could sense 'his' body. It was faint, but the feeling was undoubtedly there. A cold sensation of pain and numbness slowly washed over him, starting from his head.

Ugh! What… What is happening? This pain… It hurts!

Along with the pain came the return of sound. It was inaudible at first, but soon the noises became clearer. Still, he wasn't able to understand any of it.

"Bloody hell, I think we've done him in! Damn it, did we go too far?"

"We're in deep trouble now! If the coppers find out, we're done for!"

"Shut your gob! Let me think… Aye! We'll toss him in the canal. Let the river keep our secret!"

Luke couldn't understand a word they were saying. All he could think of at the moment was the excruciating pain in his head. It was agonizing.

"Ughh!" A groan finally escaped his lips after what felt like forever.

"Oi, you hear that?! He's breathin'! Thank the Lord he ain't dead!"

"I thought we'd be thrown in jail, mate!

"Quick now, pull your scarves up. We can't be spotted!"

After regaining his senses, Luke slowly opened his eyes. His vision was initially blurry, but soon everything came into view.

The first thing he noticed was the group of thugs that stood over him, surrounding him. There were three of them. But he couldn't see their faces properly.

Their outfits seemed quite out of place for someone like Luke who was from the 21st century.

He didn't have the pleasure to comment on their clothes, however. His hand subconsciously reached out for the wound on his head, when suddenly, he froze.

I… can move my hand? He thought in disbelief.

His shock didn't last for long, however. One of the thugs grabbed him by the collar and threatened him by waving a pocket knife to his face.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, lad. Take this as your first and final warnin'. Go sniffin' around Miss Dawson again, and we'll put you in the ground, proper-like!

"You hear me? Next time you won't be breathin'!"

With that said, the bunch of thugs scurried away from the alley, leaving behind Luke with a shocked look on his face.

Apart from the shock of knowing that he could now move his hand, he was astonished to learn that he was actually still alive.

He looked around in a daze and discovered that he was in a narrow alley. It was carved between the backs of old and leaning buildings.

The cobblestones beneath were covered in filth and rain. Crates and broken barrels were stacked haphazardly against the walls, and tattered laundry hung from above.

"Am I tripping?" As soon as those words escaped his lips, he realized that his voice was not his own.

He took support from the wall behind him and slowly sat up. He looked at his unfamiliar hands and muttered in disbelief, "What's happening? I… I can move my hands? No, wait, whose hands are these?"

A wild thought took hold of him suddenly. If I can move my hands, then can I…

His gaze was drawn to his legs. With bated breath, he folded his legs and slowly got to his feet with great difficulty.

"Ha… Haha… No way!" He took a shaky step forward, and then another, and another.

"I can walk!" He muttered in disbelief, momentarily forgetting all about the searing pain in his head.

He couldn't even remember the last time he was able to freely move his limbs. For as long as he could remember, his life had been glued to the wheelchair and he always needed a person to take care of his daily needs.

His shock and happiness were so profound that he even ignored thinking about the fact that he was miraculously alive after having already died in his past life.

But his happiness was short-lived. He was suddenly overcome by intense fatigue, and the searing pain in his head also returned.

"Ugh!" He tumbled to his knees. He reached out for the wound to the side of his forehead. When his hand touched the bloody wound, he sucked in a breath of cold air.

It hurts!

He looked at his hand. It was covered in blood. He couldn't help but nervously gulp at the sight of it. He'd never seen so much blood in his life.

Then he reached toward the back of his head. More blood.

Luke's breathing turned ragged and he couldn't recall what had happened to him, or rather what had happened to the body he now inhabited for it to be in such a state.

"Those thugs," he mumbled weakly. "They really did a number on me, uh, this body… But… why?"

He slowly rose to his feet again and stumbled towards the mouth of the dark alley.

I don't know what's happening to me… But I need to find someplace safe. Right, I need to get home, he thought to himself in a panic.

He feared that if he remained in the alley, he might bleed to death.

But then a very important question surfaced in his mind—one that made his heart sink.

Where… is home?

As he slowly made his way out of the alley, his heart was gripped by fear and anxiousness.

He had died in his previous life, only to awaken in this strange world, inhabiting an unfamiliar body.

Yet, judging by his wounds, Luke feared that if he didn't tend to them soon, he might not even survive this second chance.

No, I cannot die—I will not die! Not again!

Suddenly, he felt something warm on his right thigh. It grew steadily hotter, drawing his attention to his pants pocket.

He reached inside and found a strange coin that was rapidly heating up in his grasp.

As soon as his hand touched the surface of the coin, an eerie voice echoed directly inside his mind. It spoke in a language he could not understand.

"thē ໓ē๖t iŞ pคi໓"

Overcome by terror, he instinctively threw the coin as far as he could. He couldn't help but wonder, What the hell was that?!

Without any hesitation, he staggered out of the alley, desperate to survive.

Yet, the mysterious voice in his head echoed relentlessly.

"ɬɧɛ ɖɛცɬ ıʂ ℘ąıɖ!"