Squelch—shhlk—splrch.
Inside a dense forest, at the foot of a giant oak tree, a gruesome and graphic scene took place.
White, clean bones were forming from the feet as muscles and viscera followed.
From what was happening, it should be evident to any suspecting individual that a person was being manifested.
Soon, the neck bones formed, followed by the lower jaws, the cranium with the brain spawning as the flesh wraps around its sprouting hair.
What was left of the whole ordeal was a male—relatively handsome young man.
Aproximately 6 feet 2 inches, with waist length silver hair, thin waist and broad shoulders for damsels to cry on—this male is quite the specimen.
"Khhhaaaa…"
As if holding his breath underwater for too long, the male sat up quickly and breathed heavily.
"Cough, cough…"
He coughed repeatedly as he leaned on the large root of the tree.
As he calmed down a few seconds later, he finally had the time to survey his surroundings.
"Where…am I?" He wondered.
The unfamiliar surroundings confused him immensely.
Wasn't I at a restaurant? How did I end up in a fo—ugh!
"Aaaarggh!"
As soon as his mind cleared enough to form thoughts, a mind splitting migraine interrupted as a series of images played behind his eyes.
First, him sitting on his couch, his budget headphones on, pressing buttons in some late-night game session.
Energy drinks on the table, half-eaten two days old takeout.
Then… the restaurant.
The silence, the smell of food. And finally… the truck.
Yeah. That part must've hit hard. He was looking straight at it, through the glass, frozen in place. The truck smashed through. Metal, glass, but no pain.
Everything went white then the forest.
He groaned, covering his face in shame.
"So… that's it, huh?" He laughed bitterly. "I died… and for the first time I ever planned to eat out too. Just my luck"
He glanced down at himself. Fingers worked. Arms worked. Chest worked. Everything works. Somehow, even though he should be… not working.
"Okay… so this is the afterlife then," he surmised. "I wasn't a Christian or religious and this place doesn't give me the feels of 'Hell.'"
He ran his hands over his body. It's definitely not what he had before. Must be a gift by the afterlife.
Broad shoulders, thin waist… not that he cared much. What do matter though—
He glanced down between his legs.
"Sweet… but then again, I wonder if you'll be used."
Still, he had to admit, he looked great.
"Silver hair, huh? Guess it's fancy enough. Totally my style," he said, tugging at a strand.
Before he could continue admiring his body further, a monotone voice resounded inside his head:
[BODY CREATION AND SOUL-MIND ASSIMILATION COMPLETE]
"Huh!?"
Then, a window resembling a game interface appeared in front of him displaying his status.
[Name: Seth Donovan
Age: 21(memories)
Gender: default male
Race: Blacklight virus
Power: Blacklight physiology.]
Seth blinked, leaning back against the massive tree root.
"Sooo… I'm like… a game character now? I'm liking this afterlife more and more," he smiled. "It's almost as if in an anime or something…!?"
Now that he thought about it… how can he be sure he's in the afterlife?
His whole experience up until now went exactly like those isekai protagonists.
From the introvert going out and the truck going off lane… But that should only be a Japanese trope, right? We Americans have our own.
"Hey. I'm in the afterlife, right?" He carefully asked the window.
Although he was not against the idea of going to another world… he'd just prefer not to.
"I mean, think about it. Another world usually meant monsters, fighting, running—possibly dying again."
You know, that whole "chosen hero" stress package.
The afterlife, though? That sounded a million times better. Free food when I want. Maybe instant wish-granting. No taxes. I don't have to worry about tuition or student loans. No 8 a.m. classes.
"Look," He sighed as he folded his arms.
"If this is the afterlife, I'm cool with it. Honestly? I'd prefer it. I can just chill. Get whatever I want. No grinding. No trauma. Just vibes."
The screen flickered once.
The monotone voice from before returned, though less loud than before.
[Negative.]
[Current location: Alternative dimension.]
Seth listened. "…You're kidding."
[Statement: Factual.]
He sighed loudly.
"Man… I would've preferred clouds and free Wi-Fi."
Another interface pulled up underneath his status.
[Multiverse index.]
A list began scrolling vertically in glowing text.
Naruto, Bleach, Attack on Titan, Fullmetal Alchemist, Tokyo Ghoul, Claymore, Demon Slayer, One Piece, Jujutsu Kaisen… and more.
Seth's mouth slowly opened.
"…Wait."
He leaned closer, his lips puckered in concentration.
"No way."
He squinted at the list like he was hallucinating.
"Aren't these… anime?"
He pointed at the screen.
"Although I don't watch much anime, I've been on the internet long enough to see clips of each of them and you're telling me those are real places?"
The voice responded.
[Clarification: They are and they are not.]
"Hmm. How informative, I'm satisfied."
As if it had sensed the true meaning of his sarcastic comment, it began elaborating.
[Fictional stories are interpretations.]
[Each story possesses probability of existence.]
[Even if the probability is 0.000000…1%]
[In the Infinitum of creation, that probability has been magnified to certainty.]
Seth felt a headache coming on.
"…So you're saying that every fictional story ever written has a chance of being real somewhere?"
[Affirmative.]
He stared at the scrolling list again.
Infinite worlds.
Infinite realities.
Every anime. Every random web novel slop someone thought of and wrote at 3 a.m.
Are all real.
"…That's insane," he muttered. I wonder which world I'm in though…
A list disappeared and a new text appeared in its place.
[Current world: Claymore.]
"…Claymore?"
A view of pieces of images and short videos resurfaced.
He didn't watch it, but he definitely knew the name.
Chicks with swords, huh… Monsters too. Dark medieval vibes.
He remembered enough internet clips to know one thing about that world.
It was not peaceful.
It was not friendly.
And it definitely wasn't cloud-afterlife material.
He rubbed his temples.
"Okay. Hypothetically. Let's say I believe this. These are real worlds. Infinite creation. Probability nonsense. Fine."
He paused.
"Does that mean… stories I made up as a kid are real too?"
The system answered instantly.
[Affirmative.]
"…What."
[Any narrative construct holds existential possibility.]
[Imagined realities included.]
"You're telling me… that dumb stick-figure universe I made in third grade… where everyone shot laser beams out of their eyes…"
[Exists.]
"…The one where I tortured someone because I was sad over TikTok music?"
[Exists.]
"…The edgy one where the sun was purple and everyone had shadow powers?"
[Exists.]
Silence.
Only the sound of wind rustled through the trees.
Seth stared into nothing for a solid five seconds.
Then—
"…So somewhere out there… is an eight-year-old's power fantasy running as an actual universe."
[Accurate.]
He let out a slow breath.
"That is… horrifying to say the least."
He gave a prayer for the main characters of his dark stories.
He leaned back against the tree again, staring up through the canopy.
Anime worlds.
Childhood fantasies.
All real somewhere.
And he just happened to land in one filled with shape-shifting monsters that eat people.
He glanced at his status window again.
Race: Blacklight Virus
Power: Blacklight Physiology
His eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
"…No way."
He leaned forward, staring at the words like they might disappear if he blinked too hard.
"…Prototype!"
There was no way he didn't know that one. Gamer through and through. Late nights.
"If this is what I think it is…" he muttered slowly.
Blacklight Virus. Living biomass. Adaptation. Shapeshifting. Consumption. Regeneration.
He swallowed.
"Hold on," he said, raising a finger at the screen like he was about to argue with customer service.
"This Blacklight Virus. We're talking full package, right? Like the game?"
The system responded immediately.
[Complete baseline implementation along with some modifications.]
His grin widened.
"Baseline implementation?" he repeated. "So I can evolve?"
[Adaption capabilities : unlimited with biomass acquisition.]
He had to physically stop himself from laughing like a villain.
"Okay. Okay. Calm down."
Claymore world.
Dark medieval setting.
Monsters called Yoma that eat humans.
Brutal survival rate.
He looked down at his hands again.
If this was truly the Blacklight Virus from Prototype, then he wasn't just some random isekai extra.
He was a walking extinction event.
Now he's looking forward to his stay in this world.
Chapter 1 end.