Pilot Chapter: Reborn

Thane stood over the defeated form of his most recent chapter, the man nearly ten years his elder hobbled away with a bloody nose and several fractured ribs. Though the fight had only lasted a few minutes, he had utterly dominated his opponent.

Sighing, Thane picked up the wooden bucket at his feet and returned to tending his farm. Ever since he could remember, Thane had a love for martial arts. That love turned into a profession traveling across the world to fight in tournaments and develop his skills.

The reason behind Thane's success was his memory. Thane memorized everything that his eyes took in perfectly. This ability allowed him to relive fights and learn his opponent's moves. This gift soon became a curse as no one could come close to defeating Thane as he had a counter for any attack an opponent could throw at him.

Kneeling in his garden, Thane began to pull out carrots he had grown over the years. Kneeling in his garden, Thane started to dig through the dirt, creating small holes to plant his seeds. Living the life of a sage, he had little interaction besides the occasional fighter who had tracked him down in hopes of defeating Him.

It had become a chore, and Thane was growing bored of life on earth. His sole drive was a moot point as no one could come close to challenge him. At the end of the day, Thane sat on the porch of his house, looking at the setting sun.

Taking off his shirt, Thane grabbed the short blade with both hands and pressed the knife into his stomach. 'The way of the Samurai is found in death.' Repeating the mantra over and over again, Thane stabbed himself in a single thrust.

Standing firm as a mountain, Thane let out his last breath dying as the last rays of sunlight kissed the earth.

Opening his eyes, Thane was shocked to find himself in an open field with bright green grass. "Killing yourself out of boredom, you ask me for a life in peace, and this is how you repay me?"

Spinning around, Thane turned his hands up, preparing for an attack. But no attack came, and he lowered his guard to see who had spoken. A woman with pitch-black hair, red ruby lips, and alabaster skin sauntered closer to Thane, stopping only a few feet away.

"Who are you?" Thane asked with a steady voice, not taking his eyes off the mysterious figure. Smiling, the woman took a step closer to Thane, and he stepped back, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. After all, you're one of my favorites."

The way she said the word favorite sent a chill down Thane's spine. While he had been in life and death battles before, Thane had never felt closer to death. "I'll ask again, who are you?"

"I go by many names, but you can call me Lady Death." For some reason, Thane believed the woman and lowered his guard, "You talk as if you know me? But I have no memory of meeting you before."

Humming Death danced closer until she was right in front of Thane, "Of course you wouldn't. After all, I erased your memories." Standing his ground, Thane looked down at the goddess, "Why would you do a thing like that."

Laughing, Lady Death reached up and touched the side of Thane's cheek, "Because you asked me to, my dear warrior. But you can not deny who you are, a king, a reaper, and above all, you are mine."

Death pounced, kissing Thane deeply and forced her tongue into his mouth. Almost on their Own, Thane's arms found their way around Death's waist, and he pulled her closer. Thane didn't know why but it felt right, and something he had done thousands of times before.

Pulling back, Death smiled, "There you are, my Reaper." Thane's eyes flashed with a purple glow, and he could remember the countless times he had reincarnated, each time dying in battle or combat. But it had taken a toll on Thane, so he asked Death for a life of peace where he could be something other than a killer.

"I can recall it now, but I still can't remember my previous lives. I should be able too." Death trailed her hand across Thane's pec, "Because while you might not understand, it broke you, my love. The generations of killing left a mark on your soul. So I had to cleanse it, which included your mind."

"So what comes next? I return to filling your halls with my victims?" Thane asked with a scowl. Death shook her head, "Your journey is coming close to an end, but there is one last final step."

Before Thane could ask what his journey was, he stiffened as Death pierced his chest and wrapped her cold hand around Thane's heart.

"To become a god of death, so we may finally be together. But to do so, you need to submerge yourself in the souls of the damned. If you fail, I will have to send your soul to wander my halls. And I would hate to do that. So I'm sending you to a world filled with war and violence."

As Death talked, Thane felt a cold energy seep into his body and soul, "Don't worry, my love, as you ascend to godhood, you will carry a piece of me. After you have mastered control over death, we will finally be reunited."

Looking down at the hand in his chest, Thane smiled, his lips soaked with his blood, "I was wondering when you were going to propose. But this isn't how I pictured it." Tilting her head up, Thane kissed Death one last time before his soul moved on, moving through time and space to find a body.

-------------------

Gasping, Thane looked around widely, his heart racing. He was in a tank filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Air was being fed to him through a tube, and Thane had to adjust to the feeling. But not for long as the liquid started to drain slowly, loweThaneg Thane to the floor.

Ripping out the tube, Thane coughed and fell out of the vat as the lid opened, spilling him out onto the floor. Naked and cold, Thane was disoriented when a voice came over an intercom, "Rise in shine subject #666, as your mind recovers from the anesthetic focus on my voice."

The person speaking was male and had a slight accent Thane had never heard before, "You are part of a secret program to test the limits of genetically designed Slayers, which you are the first successful product of."

The man's voice sounded as if he was talking through several layers of glass, "Your purpose is to be a tool for your betters. We will train you to be a weapon. Your code name is Warlock. The guards are now coming in to escort you. Do not move, or they will use excessive force."

Thane was barely standing when three military personnel in high-tech riot gear surrounded him. Before he could do anything, a pair of metal cuffs locked around Thane's wrists. The guards then forced Thane to his feet.

That's when he realized that everyone towered over him. Thane had regressed in age no older than seven years old. Thane felt his feet drag against the floor in a daze as the guards marched to a steel door that opened to a clean cell room with a bed, sink, and toilet.

They tossed him into the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Thane to recover from the numbing agent. Thane found a stack of neatly folded clothes, a book, and a letter on the bed when he regained control over his extremities.

Putting on the clothes first, Thane then opened the letter.

[Hello there, my love. Sorry to throw you into the deep end like this, but I felt the other gods start peeping in on our private conversation. Like I said before, this is your last life as a mortal, whether you die and descend into hell or collect enough souls to become my equal or maybe more.

When I stab you in the heart, I gave you a fraction of my power. How you utilize, it is up to you. But your main goal is to collect souls, but there are some rules to consider. The more corrupt the person is, the more SP or soul points you'll receive. You can use SP to increase your power and earn new abilities by purchasing them with the grimoire next to you.

I took the idea from some of those web novels you used to read(our little secret). There's more to it, but I'll leave that up to you to discover. Oh, and to shed some light on the situation, the world you in is a parallel universe of Earth where there are monsters and magic.]

As he finished reading the letter, the paper burst into purple flames that drifted out of Thane's hand and landed on the book, which started to glow the same color. Opening to the first page, Thane watched a text write on the page with a list of spells with their descriptions and costs.

[Grimoire of Death]

Current SP: 0

[Spell: Curse of Weakness]

Type: Active

Cost:10(SP)

Casting this spell on a target increases the amount of damage they receive by 3% for three minutes.

[Spell: Soul Trap]

Type: Active

Cost:15(SP)

Cast this spell on a target a minute before death to increase the amount of SP gained by 5%

[Spell: Eldritch Blast]

Type: Active

Cost:25(SP)

Drawing upon the eldritch realm, you summon a blast of energy in a five-foot cone in front of you, with a 5% chance to inflict a stunning effect.

----

Thane dismissed the grimoire just in time as the bolt clicked and the door opened. Two guards stepped to either side of the door, creating a path for a rather portly man with brown short-cropped hair and glasses.

"Hello, Warlock. I am your handler. I will oversee your training, which starts now." The handler snapped his fingers, and the guards grabbed Thane, forcing him out of his cell and back into the hallway.

As they walked, Thane counted the steps before each turn. He might need to escape one day, so memorizing any detail could be the difference between success or failure. Coming to a stop in front of a blast door, the Handler pressed his hand against the scanner, which flashed green, opening the door.

Thane stepped into the room, where a large machine with several robotic arms dominated the room. Before he could do anything, the guards hauled him to the device and started to strap him into the operating table.

Thane could have broken out of the leather restraints in his past life but stuck in a child's body. The buckles might as well have been unbreakable.

"Resistance is futile, Warlock. This is only a minor procedure. It will only make sure you stay in line." The Handler mocked before strapping a gas mask to Thane's face. Trying to hold his breath, but the anesthetic had already worked its way into Thane's lungs.

Thane saw the machine's blades start to spin before he passed out, his mind retreating to the darkest parts of his subconsciousness.

Waking up in his cell again, Thane felt a sore spot on the back of his head. Touching the painful area, Thane could feel the stitches holding the wound together.

'What the hell did they put in me.' Thane realized without a way to disable the thing inside his head. Thane suddenly felt dizzy, and he leaned against the wall for support. Whatever they had used on him was strong.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thane tried to clear his head. "Son of a bitch, my head feels like it's birth." The pain only increased, though, until Thane was on the floor writhing.

The door opened again, and the Handler kneeled in front of Thane holding a small controller, "I'm glad to see that the augment worked correctly. This is only the beginning, my dear Warlock."