Death—no one knows how it feels. Even now, I'm feeling as if I'm skydiving, minus the air rushing at me. I'm drifting aimlessly in a void, or whatever this black space is.
"When will this end?" The question lingers in me, maybe causing some pause. Yes, wondering—if I'm not scared now, well… after half an hour or so of senseless fear for help, I've given up. And now I'm just wondering when it will end.
And after an unknown amount of time, finally I saw a light—and then I was in that light.
"Ash..."
"Ash!!"
I heard someone speaking, asking while shouting my name. "Am I famous in the afterlife too?" A nervous, stupid question—but at least it put one at ease. Being funny at any time, even at death's door.
I opened my eyes as the sun's rays landed on them. "You are alive!" someone shouted as they hugged me. It was a girl—a beautiful one, with electric violet hair and violet eyes, making me wonder if I was dreaming.
"Who are you?" I asked as she held me with teary eyes. "You don't know me?" she asked, and I nodded, not knowing how else to respond.
"Oh my God!" she gasped, pulling me closer, then suddenly rushed away, shouting, "Mom! Dad!"
"Now, where the hell am I?" I asked, finding myself looking at a big garden filled with many beautiful flowers. Though I'm no florist, I could swear these plants were entirely new—definitely not from Earth.
"Where is this place?" I wondered as I took in the surroundings. Then, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
Resting in front of me was a massive lion—but not just any lion. It was a blue-furred, flaming-maned beast, its tail tipped with fire, and on its forehead sat a gleaming gem.
"Am I in Pokémon World?" I asked, then shook my head. There was no such Pokémon—this lion.
"So… I've reincarnated?" I mumbled. "No, I just died." I thought. "Unless these beasts are straight out of an isekai book where MCs travel to another world…"
And now, if you are real and not illusion—then I'm dead in another world.
Just as I finished speaking, the violet-haired girl returned, this time with two more people—a couple. The man had black hair and green eyes, while the woman looked like an older, even more beautiful version of the girl.
"Ash!?" The man gasped as he gripped my shoulders, staring into my eyes. After a tense silence, he suddenly froze. "Rebecca," he said slowly, voice trembling, "when did our son have eyes like this?"
Then he turned sharply to the girl—Rebecca, I learned—who still clung to me. "My son, why are you—?" she began, but my vision blurred as doubt crashed over me.
Am I really her son?
Or is she just seeing what she saying this?
"Michel, what did you do this time?" the lady—my mother—said sharply to the violet-haired girl.
Michel froze. "I didn't do anything! I just pranked him with the hallucination flowers, but this isn't supposed to happen!" Her voice trembled as all eyes turned to me. "And then he fell unconscious..."
The girl bit her lip under her parents' piercing gazes.
The father sighed. "Michel, how many times must I tell you? No more tricks like this. Look what you've done—he doesn't even recognize us now." His stern tone made Michel's eyes well up.
"Mom!" she wailed.
"No, this isn't funny, Michel. Your pranks have gone too far," Mother said, her glare sharp. Michel's face crumpled as she turned and ran. "I hate you all!"
What a spoiled brat, I thought, keeping my expression neutral.
"Ash, let's go. Maybe the doctor can find a cure for you," Mother said softly, offering a smile.
Who even are you? I wanted to ask, but the pain in her eyes stopped me. Something ached in my chest—a ghost of a memory, maybe. What's the connection?
Before I could speak, my father stepped forward. "We are your parents, and you are our dear son," he said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he guided me away.
"Why don't I remember anything?" I asked as we walked.
"The flower Dreams is a special flower," he explained. "Some dream their favorite fantasies, but if someone eats a Dream Flower—which you might did while sniffing it—they can live an entire life within that dream."
"But it's also said," he continued, "that those who wake from it gain immense power. That's why the Flower of Dreams is also called... The Flower of Dream Enlightment."
"...Why do we have this dangerous flower planted, then?" I couldn't help but ask. Keeping such deadly flowers where kids live—these guys really need parenting classes.
"Because it's not deadly at all," Father explained. "Only the Dream Flowers that produce a fruit can send someone into an endless dream."
"And they're extremely rare—like one in a million," he added with a shrug. "I wanted to find a fruit, so we cultivated them. At best, they just make you drowsy for a few seconds. So we planted them around, and I'd check every now and then to see if any bore fruit... and the one that did was eaten by you." He glanced at me, then muttered, "Maybe it was fate."
Mother shook her head. "Fate or not, let's get him checked first—or you can forget about sleeping on the bed tonight."
With that, she scooped me up in her arms.
Well, what can I say?
I'm in the body of a five- or six-year-old, after all.
"And then, for the next few years, I had to go through a series of tests—none of which gave me back my memories.
By that time, I had accepted it: I had time traveled in a different body. Now, I am Ash Ryder—same name, even the same surname from my Earth life.
After many years, it's now my 16th birthday, and on this special day in this world of Monster Integration, I've realized something: I've read about this place before.
It was all in a book.
And now, I'm inside it.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Though, one good thing—I also have a system as my cheat too.