An Agent Ascends to Immortality

I closed my eyes.

Even with the decision made, it still felt heavy.

And then… I saw it or saw him

A shadow, faint at first blurry, undefined. But with every heartbeat, it sharpened. Gained form. Gained familiarity. Until finally, I stood face to face with…

Myself.

Not the me who had been a dragon or a blade or a forgotten sibling.

This was me, from my very first life.

Back on Earth.

Middle-aged. Soft-eyed. Forgettable.

He stared at my current form nothing more than a softly pulsing yellow orb of soul-energy.

Then, at last, he spoke.

"So, tell me… have you decided what you actually want?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

He tilted his head. "Yes, you do. You've always known. You knew the moment you heard it. Yet, you are just trying to find reason to keep it away."

I opened my mouth… then closed it.

Because he was right.

The moment I had seen the choice Adjudicator—a part of me had known. Felt the pull like a thread gently tugging towards an unfinished dress or like a piece of puzzle which someone found its way back making it whole again.

I just hadn't accepted it until now.

I looked at my former self and said:

"All these lives… all those roles… and not once did I make a choice for myself."

He didn't argue. Just waited. Just listening. Like all good reflections do. No advise. Not judging. No interfering. Just there listening

"I'm tired of being the tool," I whispered. "The sword. The sibling. The sacrifice. I want to be something that doesn't wait for orders. Something that doesn't just shape others but defines. Not for power… but because I finally understand what it means to carry the weight of a decision."

He smiled quiet and maybe proud and then, just like that, dissolved into light.

I opened my eyes.

And the words were waiting, trembling at the edge of my soul like birds behind glass.

I began to speak—

But the old Chief raised a hand.

"If you're choosing the fourth or fifth option," he said gently, "you won't just step into the role. You'll be pulled into the Core of the Universe's Will. And then… sent away."

I blinked. "Sent away?"

He chuckled. "Ah, the surprise. That look. I never get tired of it."

Then he added, "You think the universe hands out authority like festival sweets? No. It doesn't work that way."

I frowned. "But I've already lived through more than seven cycles—"

"Exactly," he said. "And that's why you can't carry those memories forward."

I stared.

"Your soul is dense with memory fractured from wearing too many faces. And you've worked with every faction. Some loved you. Others didn't. You carry biases. Favors. Burdens."

He stepped closer, voice gentler now.

"So… you'll be judged. If the Will deems you ready, your soul will be cleansed of memory. You'll reincarnate into a world under the Universe's direct care. A controlled stage. No factions involved. And for the first time…"

He smiled.

"…you'll be the protagonist."

The words rang like prophecy.

I swallowed. "And you? The Surfers. You don't remember your past?"

His expression shifted. A pause. Then he smiled, deeply.

"No. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I only know I completed five cycles as an Agent before being offered the path."

He looked at me with something close to tenderness.

"Now. Any last wishes before you forget this old man forever?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'd like to have a cup of coffee. With you… and Jason. Just once. Like friends."

His smile widened. "You know what? That's the best wish I've heard in centuries."

He turned.

"Jason!" he called. "Put the kettle on!"

Somewhere beyond the veil of golden light, I heard laughter.