Chapter 1
In a mysterious white room, a lone soul drifted, glancing around in quiet confusion.
"Hello? Anybody here?"
Its voice echoed into nothingness, swallowed by an endless silence that stretched in all directions. There were no walls, no floor, no ceiling—just a blank, infinite expanse. Time itself felt… absent.
Then, suddenly, a brilliant light flared behind it.
"What the hell… what is that?"
The soul turned instinctively, shielding what should have been its eyes. The light grew brighter—intense enough to blind, yet strangely warm, almost comforting. It didn't hurt. If anything, it felt… welcoming.
Before it could react, something changed.
A sensation, unfamiliar yet undeniable, coursed through its being. It felt heavier, denser—like it was being pulled together, compressed into a shape. A form.
Limbs stretched into existence, fingers forming from nothing, skin knitting itself over muscle and bone.
Moments later, it stood there… human.
The newly formed body trembled slightly. It raised its hands, staring at them in disbelief, flexing its fingers as if expecting them to dissolve at any second.
"What the…?"
The weight of existence settled in. Breathing. Heartbeat. Gravity—though there was no ground beneath its feet, it somehow stood firm.
And then, it noticed the figure in front of it.
"…Is that… Morgan Freeman?"
The figure smiled faintly.
"No, I am not."
The voice was calm—too calm. It carried a quiet authority, like a still ocean hiding unimaginable depth. Though it bore the face and voice the human recognized, something about it felt… off. Not wrong—just beyond human understanding.
"This form," the figure continued, "is simply the one that most closely resembles a god, based on your own perception."
"…Huh."
Before the human could respond further, the surrounding light shifted. It bent and folded as if obeying an unseen will, shaping itself into something familiar—a simple wooden desk and two chairs. The figure sat down gracefully, gesturing toward the empty seat across from it.
"Please. Sit."
"…Right."
Still trying to process everything, the human hesitated for a moment before sitting down. The chair felt solid. Real. Too real for something that had just appeared out of nowhere.
"Woah… what was that?" he asked, glancing around.
"Nothing significant," the being replied casually. "Merely a minor manipulation of reality."
"…Minor," the human muttered under his breath.
The being leaned forward slightly, resting its hands on the desk.
"More importantly," it said, its tone unchanged, "you are dead."
The words landed harder than expected.
"…What?"
"You died," the being repeated, as if stating a simple fact. "Your physical body has ceased functioning. What remains before me is your soul, temporarily stabilized for this interaction."
The human blinked.
He opened his mouth to argue—to deny it—but no words came out. Instead, fragments surfaced. Flickers of memory. A street. Lights. The sound of something fast. A sharp, sudden impact—
—and then nothing.
"…Oh."
It wasn't dramatic. There was no scream, no breakdown. Just a quiet realization settling into place.
"…That sucks."
The being watched him carefully, a faint hint of amusement in its expression.
"Yes. It often does."
The human leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. His fingers tapped against the armrest as his mind raced to catch up.
"…So what happens now?"
"Now," the being said, "you will be reincarnated into a world of my choosing."
"…Of your choosing?"
"Correct."
The human narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Hold on. Before anything else—do I get to ask questions?"
"Of course."
"…And you'll answer honestly?"
The being gave a small nod.
"I have no reason to deceive you."
"…That's exactly what someone who would deceive me would say."
For a brief moment, silence lingered between them.
Then the being chuckled softly.
"A fair point. Nevertheless, you may ask."
The human sighed.
"…Okay. First question—what are you?"
The being leaned back slightly, as if considering how to answer.
"I am… what you would call a Random Omnipotent Being."
The human froze for a second.
"…You're kidding."
"I am not."
"…Like, actually? A ROB?"
"Yes. The same concept you've encountered in the webnovels you enjoy."
The human stared at it, then dragged a hand down his face.
"…Of course. Of course that's what this is."
"Does that trouble you?"
"…No," he admitted after a moment. "Honestly, it explains a lot."
The being smiled faintly.
"I'm glad you find comfort in familiarity."
"…Comfort is a strong word."
The human leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk.
"Alright. Next question—what kind of world are we talking about? Fantasy? Sci-fi? Something… worse?"
The being's eyes gleamed subtly.
"That," it said, "is part of the experience."
"…So you're not telling me."
"Correct."
"…Great."
He let out a small laugh, though there was no humor in it.
"Let me guess—I don't get a choice in the matter either?"
"You do not."
"…Figures."
For a moment, the human fell silent, staring at his hands again. They looked normal. Completely ordinary. And yet, just moments ago, they hadn't even existed.
"…Last question," he said quietly.
The being nodded.
"Ask."
"…Why me?"
For the first time, the being paused.
Not long—just a fraction of a second. But enough for the human to notice.
"Why not?" the being replied simply.
"…That's not an answer."
"It is the only one that matters."
The human held its gaze, searching for something—anything deeper. But all he found was that same calm, unreadable expression.
"…Right."
He leaned back again, letting out a slow breath.
"…Okay. I think I get it."
"Do you?"
"No," he admitted. "But I get that I'm not going to get it."
The being inclined its head slightly.
"A reasonable conclusion."
The human let out a quiet laugh.
"Man… I just died, met a god that looks like Morgan Freeman, and now I'm about to get isekai'd into some random world."
He shook his head.
"If this is a dream, it's way too detailed."
"It is not a dream."
"…Yeah. Didn't think so."
Silence settled again—but this time, it wasn't empty. It felt… final. Like standing at the edge of something irreversible.
The being straightened slightly.
"Now then," it said, its voice carrying a subtle weight this time, "we will proceed to the next step."
The air around them shifted.
The desk, the chairs—everything dissolved into light once more, leaving them standing in that endless white expanse.
Before them, something began to take shape.
A massive wheel.
Intricate patterns covered its surface, glowing faintly as it slowly turned. Symbols the human couldn't recognize flickered across its sections, each one radiating a different kind of energy.
"…No way."
The human took a step forward, eyes wide.
"That's—"
"The Wheel of Ability," the being confirmed.
"…You're serious."
"Always."
The wheel continued to spin, faster now, its glow intensifying.
"What happens if I get something… bad?" the human asked cautiously.
"You adapt."
"…That's not reassuring."
"It is not meant to be."
The human stared at the wheel, his reflection faintly visible in its glowing surface.
"…And whatever I get," he said slowly, "I keep it in the next world?"
"Yes."
"…No rerolls?"
"No."
"…No safety net?"
The being met his gaze.
"No."
A long pause followed.
Then, unexpectedly, the human smiled.
"…Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders slightly. "Guess that's just how it is."
He stepped closer to the wheel, the light washing over him.
"Any last words of wisdom?" he asked without looking back.
The being's voice came, calm as ever.
"Survive."
The human let out a small chuckle.
"…Yeah. I figured."
He placed his hand on the wheel.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then— a small panel of light appeared in front of him. At its center was a single, circular button, glowing faintly.
"…Of course there's a button," he muttered.
"Press it," the being said.
The human glanced back once, as if expecting this entire situation to suddenly fall apart. But the being simply stood there, calm and unmoving.
"…Alright. No turning back now."
He took a breath he didn't really need, then pressed the button.
The moment his finger made contact—
the wheel roared to life.
It spun violently, far faster than before. The glowing symbols blurred into streaks of light, each one flashing past too quickly to comprehend. The air itself seemed to vibrate, humming with an overwhelming pressure.
"Okay—yeah, that's not terrifying at all," he said, raising his voice over the noise.
The spinning didn't slow.
If anything, it accelerated.
The human took a step back, shielding his eyes as waves of energy pulsed outward from the wheel. Each pulse felt different—some cold, some burning, some heavy enough to make his chest tighten.
"…What are these?" he asked.
"Possibilities," the being replied simply.
"Yeah, that doesn't help!"
The wheel continued spinning, faster and faster until suddenly it began to slow.
The change was abrupt. The roaring faded into a low hum as the symbols became visible again, one by one. Each segment pulsed as it passed the top, as if waiting to be chosen.
The human leaned forward slightly, his eyes tracking the movement.
"Come on…" he muttered under his breath.
The wheel slowed further.
One segment passed.
Then another.
Each one lingered just long enough to build tension before moving on.
"…Don't give me something useless," he whispered.
The wheel clicked.
Mahoraga's Adaptation
Slower.
Another click.
Ice-Ice Fruit
Even slower.
Then it stopped.
Silence followed.
The glowing symbol at the top flared brightly, illuminating the space around them.
The human squinted at it.
"…Quincy… King?"
The words left his mouth uncertainly, like he wasn't sure if he read it correctly.
The being stepped forward slightly.
"Correct."
"…Wait."
The human blinked.
Then blinked again.
"…Wait."
His expression shifted—from confusion, to realization, to disbelief.
"Quincy… as in Bleach Quincy?"
"Yes."
"And King means—"
"You will possess the complete lineage, authority, and potential of the Quincy King."
The human stared at the being.
"…You're telling me…"
He pointed at the wheel.
"I just rolled Yhwach?"
The being tilted its head slightly.
"In essence, yes."
Silence.
Then—
"…No way."
A laugh escaped him, sharp and disbelieving.
"No—no way that just happened. That's… that's broken."
"It is a powerful outcome," the being admitted.
"Powerful? That's an understatement!"
He ran both hands through his hair, pacing slightly.
"That's—soul manipulation, future sight, timeline manifestation, power distribution, immortality hacks—what kind of gacha system is this?!"
The being simply watched, faint amusement returning to its expression.
Eventually, the human stopped pacing.
"…Okay. Okay. Calm down."
He took a deep breath.
"…So I'm basically becoming Yhwach."
"Not exactly," the being corrected. "You will become your own existence, but with the authority and potential equivalent to the Quincy King."
"…That's still insane."
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then, the human frowned slightly.
"…Wait."
The being remained silent.
"…You said a world of your choosing."
"I did."
"…So where am I going?"
The being's gaze shifted slightly, as if observing something far beyond the empty white space.
"You will be reincarnated," it said, "into the world you know as Marvel."
The human stilled.
"…Marvel?"
"Yes."
"…As in the MCU?"
"Correct."
For a moment, he didn't react. His expression didn't change much—no shock, no panic. Just a quiet pause as he processed the information.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"…I see."
The being raised an eyebrow, studying him.
"You are not surprised."
"I am," he replied calmly. "Just not overwhelmed."
He crossed his arms, his mind already moving, sorting through everything he knew.
"Marvel, huh…" he muttered. "Aliens, enhanced humans, gods, advanced tech, magic systems… multiple power hierarchies."
"I am aware," the being said.
"…And you're sending me there," he continued, "with the power of the Quincy King."
"Yes."
This time, the human nodded slightly, as if confirming something to himself.
"…Then it's manageable."
A brief silence followed.
The being tilted its head.
"Manageable?"
"Yeah," he said simply. "Dangerous, sure—but not unworkable."
He uncrossed his arms and looked up, his expression sharpening.
"Most threats in Marvel follow some kind of system—cosmic hierarchy, energy scaling, or narrative constraints. Even the strongest beings have limits, conditions, or blind spots."
The being watched him closely, saying nothing.
"With Yhwach-level authority," he continued, "I'm not entering at the bottom. I'll have time to grow, adapt, and understand how that world functions."
"…You assume you will survive long enough to do so."
"I don't assume," he replied. "I plan for it."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"And compared to some of the worlds out there? Marvel's actually… relatively structured."
The being remained silent for a moment.
"…You are confident."
"Not exactly," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Just realistic."
He glanced back at the being.
"If I panic, I die faster. If I think, I at least have a chance."
Another pause.
Then he added—
"…Besides, with that kind of power?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, not with arrogance—but with intent.
"I'm not the prey in that world."
Silence lingered.
Then the being gave a small, approving nod.
"Both can be true," it said.
The human let out a quiet breath.
"…Fair enough."
But then, something clicked in his mind.
"…Hold on."
The being looked at him.
"You said I'm getting this ability," he said slowly. "But… why does it feel like there's more to it?"
For the first time since the wheel stopped, the being's expression shifted—just slightly.
"Because," it said, "you are not the first."
Silence.
"…What?"
"There was another," the being continued. "Another reincarnated soul placed into that world before you."
The human's eyes narrowed.
"…Don't tell me—"
"They, too, received the power of the Quincy King."
"…You're joking."
"I am not."
The human let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"So there's already a Yhwach running around in Marvel?"
"There was."
"…Was?"
The being's gaze returned to him fully.
"That individual is dead."
The words hung in the air.
"…Dead?" the human repeated.
"Yes."
"…Someone with Yhwach-level power died?"
"Correct."
A chill ran down his spine.
"…Okay, that's actually terrifying."
"It should be."
The human looked down at his hands again, clenching them slightly.
"…So what does that mean for me?"
The being stepped closer.
"It means," it said calmly, "that you will take their place."
"…You mean—"
"You will inherit the role they failed to fulfill," the being finished. "The position of the Quincy King in that world will now be yours."
The human went silent.
This time, the weight of the situation truly settled in.
Marvel.
Yhwach-level power.
And someone who already had it… died.
"…Do I at least get to know how they died?" he asked quietly.
"No."
"…Of course not."
He let out a slow breath.
"…So I'm walking into a world where someone like me already got killed."
"Yes."
"…And you expect me to just survive?"
The being met his gaze.
"I expect you to try."
Silence.
Then—
the human smiled.
Not nervously.
Not arrogantly.
But with a quiet, dangerous kind of excitement.
"…Yeah," he said softly. "I can work with that."
The being nodded.
"Good."
The white space around them began to fracture, cracks of light spreading outward like shattered glass.
"Your reincarnation will now begin," the being said.
"…Hey," the human called out.
The being paused.
"…What's my name going to be?"
For the first time the being smiled.
"That," it said, "is for you to decide."
The light consumed everything.
And then there was nothing.
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