The End of a King and the Rise of a Legend

The metallic taste of blood spread through Brian's mouth. He tried to swallow, but his throat burned. His vision flickered between unbearable brightness and complete darkness.

The roar of engines still echoed in his head. The screams of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, the sudden shock. The impact.

Was this how it ended?

He tried to move his fingers, but he felt nothing. No pain, no weight—nothing but absolute emptiness.

Brian blinked, and the scene around him changed.

The asphalt, the wreckage, the frantic lights of race officials—all gone. In their place was an endless white void. No shadows, no sounds. Just him and the nothingness.

Then, he saw Him.

A man stood before him, dressed in a flawless black suit, hands in his pockets, a sculpted smile on his face. He didn't look like an angel. He didn't look like a demon. He just was.

— Brian Moser. The most absurd talent to ever walk this planet.

The voice echoed, almost divine. But Brian wasn't impressed. He scoffed, tilting his head.

— And who the hell are you? God? The manager of the afterlife? Or just another fanboy?

The man smiled, as if expecting that kind of response.

— Something like that. Let's get to the point. You're dead. But I enjoy entertainment. And you… you are pure entertainment. So, I'll give you another chance. Three wishes. No tricks. Just amuse me.

Brian raised an eyebrow.

— Oh, sure. A cosmic genie granting wishes. Next, you'll hand me a contract with fine print saying my soul belongs to you.

— Nothing like that. Just a gift. The question is: do you want it or not?

Brian crossed his arms, thinking. If this was a dream, at least it was an interesting one. And if it was real… even better.

He wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

— Three wishes, huh? Alright, let's do this.

He snapped his fingers, as if he already knew exactly what he wanted.

— First: I want absolute talent in anything I do. It doesn't matter what it is—I want to be the best. If I play basketball, I'll be unstoppable. If I drive a car, I'll be the fastest. If I decide to cook, Gordon Ramsay will be asking me for advice. Got it?

The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

— Second: I want a body that never limits me. No fatigue, no injuries, no loss of reflexes. I want endurance, strength, and speed beyond normal. Always at my peak.

The man's smile widened.

— Third: — Brian took a step forward, locking eyes with the entity — I want a long, healthy life. Enough time to dominate anything I want.

Silence.

Then, the man started laughing. A deep, almost demonic laugh.

— Interesting. You could have asked for infinite wealth, superpowers, immortality… and you chose to be a legend.

Brian shrugged, his tone casual but full of conviction.

— Money comes with talent. Power comes with time. The rest? I don't care.

The man stared at him for a moment before raising his hand and snapping his fingers.

— Very well, kid. Your game starts now. Entertain me.

The white void exploded in pure light.

And then—everything returned.

The weight of his body, the sound of the wind, the warmth of his skin. Brian opened his eyes, but he was no longer the same.

He was back. But not in the same world.

His skin felt like it was humming with energy. His muscles responded as if they were made of flexible steel, ready for anything. His eyes, once ordinary, now reflected something different—absolute confidence.

He walked over to a mirror in the corner of the room. A young, perfect face stared back at him. He grinned.

It was time to start his new story.

This time, he would be unbeatable.