Chapter 1: Transmigration
Isaac was nothing special. A humdrum life, a well-oiled routine: work, screen, sleep. And the next day, the same thing all over again. Sometimes he wondered if that was really what living was all about.
If there was one thing he was passionate about, it was samurai stories. Not to the point of obsession, but he loved their discipline, their code of honour, the way they faced death without flinching. It fascinated him. Sometimes he found himself imitating their movements with a wooden bokken he'd bought on a whim. Just for fun.
That night, he was walking in the rain, his hands deep in his pockets. He was humming a tune from an old samurai film. A scene stuck in his mind: a wounded warrior advancing towards his last battle, without fear or regret.
That's what a true warrior is, he thought. He doesn't back down. He accepts his fate.
A thud. A screech.
Isaac looked up. Too late. The headlights of a lorry blinded him. A brutal shock. A searing pain. Then... nothing.
A start. A gulp of air.
Isaac suddenly opened his eyes. A cracked ceiling. A musty smell. A rough blanket against his skin. His heart was pounding.
- What the...?
He put a trembling hand to his chest. He was supposed to be dead. Yet here he was.
His gaze drifted to a cracked mirror against the wall. What he saw took his breath away.