Liliana wasn't the type of girl who expected much.
She didn't expect to change the world. She didn't expect to be loved by millions. Hell, she didn't even expect to pass calculus.
She just wanted… something.
Something different. Something real. Something that didn't feel like hitting "snooze" on life every morning and hoping the next day would magically fix everything.
Her daily routine was a cycle of quiet disappointments. Wake up. Exist. Pretend things were fine. Rinse, repeat.
She had a handful of online friends she never met, a playlist full of sad songs with bass drops, and a long, secret folder of fantasy novel drafts she never had the nerve to share. Her parents were vaguely supportive in the way plants are vaguely alive if you forget to water them. Teachers said she had "potential" but never followed that with anything useful.
Life wasn't bad.
It was just gray.
And apparently, energy drinks don't mix well with burnout and emotional suppression, because one minute she was staring at a rejected scholarship email with shaking hands, and the next—
Darkness.
No pain. No sound. No air.
Just black.
And then—
"Welp. That didn't go well."
Somewhere Between Life and Whatever Comes Next…
Her consciousness stirred like it had been slapped awake by a sarcastic cloud.
"What the...?"
"Yep. You're dead," the voice said, like it was announcing lunch. "Congrats, you died tragically. Ish. A little anticlimactic, really."
Liliana floated in what could only be described as "existential soup." No body. No gravity. Just weird awareness and a voice that sounded like it was coming through a discount Bluetooth speaker.
"Is this—hell?"
"Nah. Void between worlds. Budget version. The real afterlife is upstairs, but you didn't exactly qualify."
"Excuse me?"
"No offense. You didn't murder anyone. But also… you spent most of your life ghosting yourself. Very un-main-character behavior."
"Okay, first of all, rude."
"Second of all," the voice continued, "I'm ROB. Random Omnipotent Being. Cosmic middle-management. God's bored intern. You know how it is."
A glowing silhouette faded into view—vaguely human, kinda smug. Then, with a flash of light and no warning whatsoever, it shifted into a full-on Morgan Freeman.
White suit. Calm smile. That voice.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Statistically speaking," said Not-Morgan, "most people picture me like this. Blame pop culture. I used to do Gandalf, but the beard was itchy."
Liliana gawked. "I literally died and got Morgan Freemaned."
"Technically, you died from extreme emotional shutdown and heart failure, brought on by stress, overconsumption of synthetic caffeine, and—lemme check—four years of internalized self-hate."
"Oof. Okay. That's… freakishly accurate."
"Perk of the job." ROB sipped a piña colada through a curly straw. "But here's the good news: you get another shot."
"Wait, like reincarnation?"
"Bingo! And not as a slug or an amoeba. You're getting the Isekai Deluxe™ package."
Liliana blinked. "Okay. No offense, but why me? Shouldn't this be going to some guy who died saving a child from an oncoming truck?"
"Look, those guys get overused. It's all truck-kun this, truck-kun that. We needed a change of pace. Someone who didn't peak in high school. Someone with potential—just enough trauma, just enough bite."
Liliana crossed her ghost-arms. "And what, I get superpowers and a fantasy world?"
"Yep. But also sadness. And probably a sword. Maybe a cool coat."
"I'm listening…"
ROB summoned a glowing scroll from the air. It rolled out into a mile-long ribbon of golden text. The title read:
"JACK OF ALL TRADES – ONE TIME OFFER – NON-REFUNDABLE – VOID WHERE PROHIBITED"
"…That looks cursed."
"Only if you read the fine print. Which, pro tip: don't."
Liliana squinted. "So what's the catch?"
"Simple. You'll be born into a powerful family—without any power. Zero magic. Total dead weight. They'll tolerate you for a bit, then toss you out like expired yogurt."
She stared.
"That's... horrifyingly specific."
"Right? Very cinematic. But it gets better."
"Oh no."
"Your trauma—deep, raw, spicy—will unlock the Jack of All Trades ability. Emotion-based power mimicry. Not immediate, though. You'll flail around for a bit first. Character development and all that."
Liliana raised a skeptical brow. "And what kind of powers are we talking?"
"Oh, you know. Multi-path potential. Emotionally reactive. Very 'press this when the world's on fire' energy. And—oh—five badass soul-bonded personas based on characters the author probably has a huge bias for""
"Neet…So I'm just waiting for a breakdown to unlock my power?"
"Basically."
"…Sick."
"It'll make sense when it matters," ROB said with a wink. "Probably during a life-defining moment of unspeakable loss and rage. Or something light like that."
"…That sounds unstable."
"It is! Extremely! That's what makes it fun."
Liliana exhaled slowly, thinking.
So she'd get reborn. Alone. Weak. Banished. But with the potential to become something terrifying.
Something powerful.
Something not gray.
"…Do I at least get a cape?"
"Eventually. And trauma. Lots of trauma."
"Sick."
ROB tossed her a glowing pen. It buzzed with chaotic energy and vague regret.
She caught it, looked at the scroll, and paused.
"…Do people usually say no?"
"Only once. He came back as a possum in Detroit."
"…Right."
She signed.
And the void cracked.
Reality shattered like a mirror under a boot. Light tore through everything.
"Good luck, Liliana Gremory," ROB called out, fading into the whiteness. "Try not to explode. Or do. Honestly, I'm rooting for you either way."
Her last thought before everything vanished was:
'Please don't let me come back ugly.'
Those were Liliana's final thoughts before the light swallowed her whole and flung her into a new world, a new life, and a metric ton of emotional damage.
Silence returned to the void.
ROB stood there alone, sipping his piña colada, watching the reality portal snap shut with a pop.
He gave a satisfied sigh.
"Yep. That one's gonna be a mess. In a fun way."
He turned to leave, then paused mid-step.
"…Wait. Crap."
Another pause.
"Did I… forget to tell her she won't remember any of that?"
He snapped his fingers, pulled out a checklist, and scanned it.
"Let's see… intro speech, death joke, power pitch, emotional damage warning, Morgan Freeman cameo, piña colada flex… ah. Memory wipe. Right. That was supposed to be at the start."
ROB scratched his head.
"Eh. She'll figure out. Probably. Eventually. After some crying. And explosions."
He took one last sip.
"God, I love my job."
And with that, the void faded back to black.