Chapter 1: A Second Chance

In a room filled with the corpses of many dressed in golden robes, a man with the countenance of a divine being stood over the bloodied body of another with his sword held millimeters away from the other's neck.

"After all these years of your tyranny, Mikael, your time to leave this world is finally near! Repent for the sins you have committed, for even the demonic gods feel nothing but contempt towards you this day." One man shouted with rage and exhaustion riddled in his voice.

He wore a golden robe made of the finest silk that would make any normal person who laid their eyes upon it become blinded by its sheen, a reflection of their own greed. Even with the tears that now accompanied his clothing, one could see a glowing halo that surrounded the man. He appeared to be in the later stages of his life with his head covered entirely in gray strands of hair and his face containing many wrinkles.

"Save your breath, old friend. You and I both know that the paths we walked were nothing but the plan of our cursed 'master' to see you become the light of this world. And what need would there be for a light without an overpowering darkness opposing it. So come, Samuel, claim your bastardized birthright and put an end to the play so expertly written by that devil of a man." The other man replied in a tone of acceptance defeat, a tone that wasn't directed at his current state, but at his entire life.

He wore black martial-arts garb with accents of crimson red at the hems. Blood covered nearly every inch of his body, a foul mix of both his enemies' and his own. He was of similar age to the man standing opposite of him, with scars riddled across his face and body. His most notable trait was the blood-red color of his irises that once aimed at another would invoke the most primal fear in the same way a cricket felt when staring into the eyes of a dragon.

"Our master carved a path of freedom and glory for us, and you still have the gall to besmirch his name? I should thank you for removing any semblance of regret I had in my heart. Goodbye, Mikael. May this world finally know peace." Samuel's golden eyes contained a haze of insanity that only Mikael seemed to recognize as the sword in his hand moved.

*Mikael POV*

After centuries of pointless bloodshed, I only recently realized the cruel machinations of my master. A demonic-parasite had been embedded in my heart, one that corroded my mind over countless years in exchange for power beyond what many could fathom. Had I not transcended the concept of mortality a decade ago, I would have remained a slave to the devious plans of the man I once called 'master'.

Even though I had freed myself from the foul mind manipulation of the parasite, it had grown to a degree that removing it from my body would mean instant death. Even worse, I had discovered that my transcendence was incomplete due to my internal energy being devoured by the evil thing during the process, leaving me just as mortal as before.

'Yet none of it matters… The sins I committed were still mine to repent for, regardless of how unfair my life had been. And now, I pay the ultimate price.'

Nothing but silence could be heard as I watched my beheaded body slump forward towards Samuel. Even now, I ponder just how different my life would be had I never encountered that devil of a man on that day. Ultimately, an exhaustion I had never felt before overtook me, beckoning me to close my eyes.

'I… can… finally… rest…'

*??? POV*

Another day, another soul.

"Ahh, an interesting one! Soul 40000000053 of Universe 8731501-E, huh… Martial Artist also known as 'The Crimson Tyrant', blah blah blah." I licked my finger to turn the page on the information sheet.

"Oooh! Here's the good stuff! Says here he was sold to a demonic entity when he was still a child by a corrupt orphanage matron and then forced to become the symbol for evil and chaos by his so-called 'master'. Yeesh, even says here his nature was influenced in order to become as evil as possible. Poor kid didn't even get a chance to develop his own personality before that." I continued reading on about the numerous atrocities he performed in order to calculate his karma.

"Luckily for this guy, being mind-controlled and forced to do these things doesn't negatively affect him, but the one that influenced him." I ignored the rest of the pages of the soul's life summary and turned to look at the other screen while I sipped from my mug.

"Allllright, let's see what the total here is. HUH?!" The number that was supposed to have appeared in front of me as a result of calculating this soul's total karma returned as a perfect 0, without even a single decimal attached to it.

"To think that such a result was even possible… I guess the fact that more than 99% of his existence was spent being a puppet meant that he never had the chance to truly accumulate karma for himself. Now how am I supposed to even handle this…" I pondered the choices I had carefully, trying to find a solution to this anomaly.

"Hmm… Due to the fact that this soul's karmic-level is 0, it's impossible to cleanse it in any form, including memories. Then I guess I'll just have to leave them there…" The issue at hand started to give me a headache as I continued pondering over my options.

"Ahh fuck it, I'll just reincarnate you into a different universe and use the karma you gather there as the baseline for your next evaluation. As for which one, let's see which one I should go with…" I closed my eyes and evaluated the googolplex of universes.

"Aha! This one should work. Completely unfamiliar to the soul, yet capable of truly evaluating its karma. Alright then little one, off you go." I guided the soul into a random body and went about evaluating the next soul in the queue.

*Mikael POV*

'Where am I? I can feel my surroundings, but I have limited movement. And there's this weird force of suction pulling me as well. Is this what the afterlife is supposed to be like?'

*General POV*

A woman laying on a bed screamed and gasped for air in a methodical manner as doctors around her evaluated her vitals. The man sitting beside her bed held her hand as beads of sweat fell from his forehead. The sight of his wife going through such agonizing pain clearly worried him to no end.

"You're almost there, Mrs. Heartfield. Keep pushing!" A wetnurse with pink hair comforted the woman.

With one final shout of pain, the woman's face finally released all signs of tension. The wetnurse stood up while cradling the life that had just entered this world, crying as any healthy newborn would. Once the wetnurse confirmed that the baby had no concerning health issues, she laid the child onto its mother's chest.

"Congratulations Mrs. Heartfield, you've given birth to a healthy baby boy!" The wetnurse smiled at the exhausted woman.

"What should we name him, honey?" The new mother's husband asked as he let out a breath of relief. The look on his face could only be described as loving as he watched his wife cradle his newborn son.

"Michael… Michael Heartfield." The woman smiled lovingly as she held the child. The newborn's cries soothed as he heard his mother's voice, falling into a deep slumber.

*Michael POV*

I think I have finally grasped the situation that I found myself in. I have been reincarnated.

My initial shock upon discovering this went away rather quickly once I considered the situation some more.

'This could be my chance to atone for my sins in my past life. I can only thank the gods profusely for granting me this opportunity. To even grace this life with a mother and a father shows the benevolence of those that showed pity on me. I vow that I will value this chance granted to me and devote my life to being a good man.'

As I finished making my vows to be a better man in this life, I opened my eyes slowly. Within my limited vision, I could see two faces peering at me from above, a man and a woman. These people, who I assume to be my parents, looked at me with an expression I was unfamiliar with in my past life. Yet, I knew instinctively in my heart that they looked upon me with love and a desire to protect.

My mother was unbelievably beautiful, with long auburn hair and a face that would easily overshadow any of the 'flowers' of the various martial sects in my past life.

My father appeared much more gruff in comparison. He had unkempt, black hair that gathered into a messy ponytail that rested on his back. What caught me by surprise was how he seemed to be incredibly muscular, causing me to believe he was trained in martial arts. Furthermore it was quite odd how he wore no clothing on his upper body, similar to the pugilist sects of my past life.

I turned my head with some struggle to see if I could identify something in the room that would give me an idea of what sect I was born into. Once I successfully moved my head a bit, a pink oval-shaped figure entered my vision, surprising me.

"Chansey!"