No. 18.
That was the only name the world ever bothered to give me.
A number—efficient, unremarkable, disposable.
Once, I believed an assassin should never think about life or death; we were instruments, not dreamers. Yet after sixty years in the shadows, I learned even instruments rust.
While children scribbled with pencils, I learned to kill with them.
While people celebrated birthdays, I stitched wounds with shaking hands and whispered to corpses for silence.
I lived long enough to call myself fortunate—if survival alone counts as fortune.
The last job proved otherwise. Three presidents, three bullets, three heartbeats, then betrayal from the boy who inherited the syndicate after murdering his own father. The lesson of my career: even the capable die cheap when convenience demands it.
As the shot cracked behind me, I wondered—not about God or redemption—but about warmth.
What it felt like.
I never knew.
Then everything ceased.
---
The Void
There was no light, no direction, only a vast weightless silence.
If oblivion had texture, it would feel like this—soft, endless, and suffocating.
> Was this all there ever was?
A life of motion without meaning?
Something answered. A whisper threaded through the dark, calm and mechanical.
[Rebirth Protocol – Initializing 0.3%]
The words split the void. A surge of light poured through me like molten glass. Breath returned—cold, sharp, alive.
---
The Palace of Glass and Shadow
When vision steadied, I sat upon a throne of black crystal that pulsed faintly like a living heart.
Silver-white fire burned along obsidian pillars, painting the hall in shifting halos of gray and blue.
Every step I took sent ripples through the marble—as though the room itself recognized its master.
I raised my hand. Pale light flickered beneath the skin, gold lines tracing my veins.
> These aren't my hands.
They're too steady… too perfect.
The reflection staring back from the mirrored floor was younger, sharper, more regal—hair black as spilled ink, eyes red at the edges of violet. A stranger wearing my regrets like a crown.
Then came the sound: clank… clank… clank.
---
Alfred
From the far doors entered a tall man in a black coat. One arm shone with mechanical plating; faint pistons hummed beneath the sleeve.
He knelt with practiced grace, voice even and formal.
" You've awakened, my Lord. I've been waiting."
A blue projection shimmered before me.
[Companion Unit Registered – ALFRED]
[Origin: Human Soul (Deceased, Bus Accident)]
[Loyalty: 100%]
"Alfred," I repeated, testing the name. "You sound… too human for machinery."
He smiled faintly. "Because I was one. Ten years old when a bus ended my life. The System rebuilt me. Child's mind, middle-aged body. I try to keep up."
A hollow laugh escaped me. "A boy reborn as a machine serving a dead assassin. Fitting symmetry."
His mechanical iris rotated once. "Then symmetry is destiny, my Lord."
The air trembled. Lines of blue fire crawled across the throne and converged above us.
---
Initialization
[System Initialization Complete]
[Designation Confirmed: Nex Von Ashford]
[Authority: Head of the Grim Reaper Clan]
The words struck like thunder through bone and marble.
The hall reshaped itself—walls expanding outward, ceiling unfolding into constellations.
Through towering windows stretched an ocean of galaxies, each turning like a dying ember.
I understood then: this was no palace built by mortals.
This was The Ashen Citadel, a fortress suspended between existence and nothing.
---
The Eleven Maids
Alfred led me down a corridor bright with lunar glow.
At its end waited eleven figures—elf maids, identical as mirrors: silver hair, porcelain skin, emerald eyes that caught starlight.
They bowed in perfect unison.
" Welcome home, Master Nex."
Home.
A word I had never owned. The sound of it scraped something raw inside me.
> So this is what belonging feels like… manufactured, yet still real.
" Thank you," I murmured—soft enough that only Alfred heard.
He said nothing, but the corner of his mechanical mouth lifted.
---
The Citadel Breathes
In the dining hall, the air thrummed with unseen energy. Each breath carried whispers of laws older than creation.
I felt them thread through my blood—concepts of death, rebirth, order.
[Core Ability Unlocked: Soul Extraction]
[Secondary Ability: Dimensional Severance]
[Immortal State – Permanent]
A faint smile curved my lips.
"The assassin who severed lives now governs their passing," I said.
Alfred tilted his head. "Poetic justice, my Lord."
"Or cosmic irony," I answered. "Perhaps the same thing."
---
Directive One
From the air blossomed a sphere of azure light. It fractured into nineteen smaller worlds, each trembling on the edge of collapse.
[Mission Protocol Activated]
[Objective: Rescue 19 Destined Souls]
[Status: World Collapse Imminent]
[Reward: Immortal Binding]
I frowned. "Destined souls?"
Alfred translated the silence. "Nineteen wives, my Lord. Each from a dying realm."
I almost laughed. "Wives? I've barely spoken to a woman in forty years."
"Then," he said dryly, "the Reaper shall finally learn diplomacy."
---
Masks of Dominion
Another cascade of panels spun into view.
[Disguise Protocols Unlocked]
1. Professor Nex Grey – Modern Civilizations
2. Xue Nex – Cultivation Realms
3. Nex Lucifer – Cyber Empires
4. Nekks Nanahoshi – Eastern Spiritual Spheres
[Duration Limit: 24 Hours Post-Entry]
I watched the names drift like feathers of light.
"Masks change," I said, "but the face beneath remains constant."
Alfred inclined his head. "As it should, my Lord. Authority wears many shapes."
---
Reflection
Hours bled into quiet. The Citadel hummed around me like a living organ.
For the first time, I allowed stillness to linger.
> Warmth… perhaps it isn't given. Perhaps it's taken—from worlds that still know how to feel.
If saving them grants me even a spark, it will be enough.
The thought didn't comfort me, yet it anchored something close to purpose.
---
The First Summons
The silence broke with another chime.
[Mission #1 – World of Eastern Blossoms]
[Target Soul: Elara Valefort – Duke's Daughter]
[Disguise Mode: Professor Nex Grey]
[Weapons Issued: Dual Katanas / Sidearm Ω]
[Travel Portal: Ready]
Alfred appeared beside the throne, sword balanced across metal palms.
He knelt, head bowed. "Orders, my Lord?"
I rose. The Citadel's torches bent their flame toward me as a portal of fractured gold opened before the dais.
Wind from another realm swept through the hall, carrying the scent of distant rain.
I looked once at the galaxies beyond the window—worlds already breaking apart—and smiled, faint and cold.
"Then let us begin this life," I said, "or perhaps the death of immortality."
Alfred's mechanical eye gleamed. "Yes, my Lord. A new game begins."
We stepped into the light.
---
The Ashen Citadel folded behind us, its heart dimming to silence.
[Transfer In Progress – World #1 Engaged]
Far away, beneath a crimson moon, a woman of noble blood looked up at a sky beginning to crack—unaware that salvation had already started walking her way.
---
End of Chapter 1
This was just an introductory chapter,don't think this will be all there is to it ,bro will be so overpowered you'll have to packup popcorn for reading