"Hmm… since I'm dead, that means I can't get tired. Perfect. Time to run freely."
Henry spoke aloud, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He stopped, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, stretching, psyching himself up. Every hop, every twist of his limbs was preparation—for what? For everything.
The human body has limits, innate safeguards to prevent self-destruction. He had lived almost twenty-five years in such a cage. But here? Here, in this place beyond reality, those chains no longer applied.
He began with a light jog, testing the golden-brown fur beneath his feet. Smooth. Solid. Perfect. No slipping. No compromise. It was like running on the finest track, with shoes crafted by the gods themselves.
He picked up speed. The field began to blur. The horizon melted. Air—wind—breathing? Not necessary. Yet instinct had him gulp deeply, chest pumping, muscles singing with energy.
Then it happened. A tingle in his chest, spreading warmth through every fiber of his being. Yes… I can go further.
He tapped into it. The well of power inside him surged to life. And suddenly, everything accelerated. The fur beneath his feet vanished into streaks of gold. The landscape blurred. The air itself screamed past his ears.
He laughed. A deep, primal laugh that shook his chest. The heartbeat in his ears drummed like war drums. Power thrummed in his veins. Strength, speed, raw ferocity—it all belonged to him.
ROOARRR!
An inhuman bellow tore from his throat, wild and untamed. He felt it reverberate through his body, through the field, through the very air around him. He was a beast. He was the storm. He was free.
The adrenaline surged. His perception soared. The field, the fur, the wind—they all bent to his presence. His heartbeat became the tempo of the world itself, announcing a force no mortal could contain.
He looked at his hands—and froze. Golden fur covered them, sleek and alive. Black claws gleamed at the tips of his fingers. His face elongated, whiskers brushing against sharp teeth that glinted like metal in the sunlight.
"What… am I?" His voice, guttural and powerful, rumbled through his chest.
He stared at his body, impossibly muscular, sculpted beyond human limits. Eight-pack abs, thick legs brimming with explosive power, a tail swishing behind him, golden-brown fur covering every inch. Black tufts of hair framed his head like a mane, soft and luxurious. His hands, feet, claws, teeth—they all screamed one truth: predator. Apex. Beast.
"I… am a werelion?" he breathed, awe and exhilaration lacing every word.
And he felt it—the hidden power that still waited, deep within. Not obeying like the first surge, but calling to him, testing him.
"Come on. It's mine," he growled, stepping into the darkness of his inner mind. "Whatever you are, whatever you want… I will take you!"
Chains snapped. Light exploded. Energy surged into him from every angle. The field of golden fur trembled, then rose, twisting and condensing into a single gargantuan form.
A colossal lion—towering hundreds of meters, mane blazing like liquid sunlight, claws sharp as blades, muscles sculpted from pure power—emerged. Its roar shook the sky, the land, and his very soul.
"HAHAHA!" Henry laughed, arms wide, embracing it. This is me. This is my power.
The lion lowered its massive head. Blue eyes, bright and star-like, pierced him, yet radiated trust and recognition. Henry reached out, touching the muzzle of his own awakened might.
Light engulfed him. Energy poured into him. Every sinew, every fiber, every spark of potential—the lion, the field, the power—it all became his.
And then… darkness.
Snapping his eyes open, Henry blinked up at the familiar ceiling above him. For a heartbeat, he almost believed it had all been a dream. The golden plains, the lion, the surge of power—it all felt too unreal.
But then he felt it.A warmth pulsing from deep within his chest, flowing like sunlight through his veins. Two powerful presences stirred in his heart—quiet, patient, but alive. Ready to be called.
He sat up slowly, the morning light slipping through the curtains in soft beams. Everything seemed normal... until—
"Aghhh! The hell—?!"Henry gagged, reeling back as a foul stench slammed into his nose like a physical blow. It was putrid—rotten, acidic, something that could make paint peel off the walls.
The worst part? It was coming from him.
"Ugh! Okay—okay, no questions, just—bath. Now!"
He leapt out of bed and dashed for the shower, leaving a trail of foul air behind him.
It took nearly an hour. One full hour of scrubbing, rinsing, and muttering curses under his breath before the last traces of that black, oily grime were gone.
When the water finally ran clear, he stared at the mess circling the drain—blood, hair, and flakes of dead skin.It was as if he had... molted.
Stepping out of the steam, a towel around his waist, Henry faced the mirror. And what stared back made him blink in disbelief.
Golden-yellow eyes, soft yet radiant, gazed at him with a calm warmth. They glowed faintly, like the first rays of dawn after a long, cold night. His hair—still black, but now rich and lustrous, a midnight shade that shimmered under the light—framed his face in smooth, slightly longer strands.
And that face..."Damn," he whispered, tilting his head. "I look like... Ohma Tokita's cousin—if he got a divine blessing."
Every line of his body had changed—each muscle cut and defined, athletic yet effortless, power humming beneath the skin. When he clenched his fists, his veins thrummed with energy. The world itself looked sharper—brighter.
He could see motes of dust floating in sunlight, hear birds fluttering three streets away. His senses weren't just enhanced—they were reborn.By his own guess, he was easily three times stronger than before.
"Okay, Henry," he said to his reflection, flashing a grin. "New world, new you. Step one—get dressed. Step two—don't stink up your own house again."
He marched back into his room… and immediately gagged again.
"Right. Step one—clean up the disaster zone."
He tore the sheets off his bed, dumped them straight into the washing machine along with the cursed clothes from last night, and ran the cycle on maximum. His new strength made every motion swift, precise, and efficient.
The cleaning frenzy took him over. Within the hour, the house sparkled like new. He felt oddly satisfied—focused. But as he moved, his mind replayed the events from the night before.
Why him? Why the power? There was always a reason. A price. A purpose.And yet… he didn't regret it. Not even a little.
When the last batch of laundry finished, he stepped out into the backyard to hang it up—only to freeze mid-step.
"Wait a sec..."
A forest.Dense, green, and stretching far into the horizon, swayed behind his house.
"That... wasn't there yesterday."
The air was crisp, sweet. The kind that tasted alive. Birds chirped softly, and distant sounds—cars, laughter, voices—reached him faintly through the wind.
He exhaled slowly. So that's it."I'm... not in my world anymore."
The thought didn't frighten him—it thrilled him.
"Well, laundry's done. Time for breakfast... and then, adventure."
Inside, his kitchen gleamed with polished counters and quiet modern luxury. As he cooked, the rich scent of bacon and pancakes filled the air. He devoured twice his usual portion, with the refined grace of a king—and the hunger of a beast. Not a single crumb escaped him.
Wiping his mouth, he leaned back with a satisfied sigh."Perfect. Now let's see what this world has to offer."
He grabbed his jacket, but something slipped from the pocket—only to disappear mid-air and reappear in his hand.
"Huh. Auto-grab reflex. Nice."
It was an envelope. Cream-white, crisp, sealed neatly. His instincts told him it wasn't dangerous—just... strange.
Breaking the seal, he unfolded the letter.
'Dear Mr. Helving,We are pleased to inform you that you have been successfully accepted to our school for this scholastic year...'
As his eyes traced the name at the bottom—Principal Celestia—his breath caught.
"Wait—Celestia? Canterlot High?"
A quiet laugh escaped him."So... that's where I ended up. This world really is something else."
He looked out the window at the distant sunrise.And for the first time, he smiled—not as the man who died, but as the reborn one.
"Alright then... Let's see what destiny's got planned for me this time."