The Honored One (MHA)

Kyle Davis never thought his life would end on such a cliché note.

"I'll probably die in my sleep," he used to joke, "or choking on a damn burrito. Something stupid."

But no, life decided to crank the irony dial to max.

He was twenty-four years old, working a soul-sucking job in software engineering where his boss spent more time finding new ways to micromanage than actually managing. His life was as predictable as a rerun. Wake up. Work. Eat. Watch anime. Sleep. Repeat.

It wasn't all bad, though. Kyle loved his hobbies—anime, manga, and gaming were his holy trinity of escapism. And if there was one thing he enjoyed above all else, it was overpowered characters.

Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen? That guy was his goddamn idol. Strong, confident, and untouchable. The kind of smug bastard who could drop-kick logic into a dumpster and still walk away with a smirk.

"If I could be anyone in anime," Kyle once said in a late-night argument on Discord, "it'd be Gojo. Dude's got Infinity, Six Eyes, and the personality of a guy who doesn't give a single fuck. That's a dream life right there."

Kyle wasn't Gojo, though. Kyle was a guy who almost cried the last time someone double-charged him for coffee.

That particular day was like every other.

He left work late after untangling someone else's sloppy code. His boss, Karen—yes, her actual name—had hovered over him the whole time like a mosquito. By the time he clocked out, Kyle wanted nothing more than to go home, microwave some ramen, and binge a few episodes of whatever anime he hadn't finished yet.

Earbuds in, he walked down the dimly lit streets, the comforting chatter of his favorite anime podcast drowning out the world. The hosts were debating a ridiculous question: "Would Goku or Superman win in a fight?" Kyle smirked. Everyone knew the real answer was, Neither. Gojo beats them both. (Thought by Editor-san)

He reached the same crosswalk he used every day. The light was green, so he stepped off the curb, typing a snarky reply on a forum thread: Superman's laser vision? Cute. Gojo wouldn't even need to blink.

Then came the screech of tires.

Kyle looked up, and for a split second, his brain stalled. A car was hurtling toward him, its headlights like twin suns, and he stood there like a deer in the world's brightest headlights.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he thought.

The next second, the car hit him.

When Kyle opened his eyes, he wasn't lying on a stretcher or in some hospital bed. He wasn't even sure he had eyes anymore.

Instead, he was floating in a weird, glowing void. No ground, no walls, no sky—just endless light.

"Okay," Kyle said—or thought? He wasn't sure how talking worked here. "This is officially weirder than the time I drank that expired energy drink."

Then a voice spoke. Calm. Smooth. Like someone doing a budget impression of Morgan Freeman.

"You have died."

Kyle blinked—or at least tried to. "No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The two tons of metal that used me as a speed bump?"

The voice ignored his sarcasm. "You have reached the end of your life. But your journey is not over."

Kyle sighed. "Great. Is this the part where you send me to the afterlife? Or do I get to spin the wheel and see if I come back as a cockroach?"

"You have been chosen," the voice continued, undeterred. "A second chance awaits you. A new world. A new purpose. And a gift to help you succeed."

"Second chance?" Kyle's thoughts raced. "Wait, am I being isekai'd? Like in those anime? Please tell me I get cheat powers. If I wake up as some medieval peasant shoveling pig shit, I'm rioting."

"You will inherit the template of Gojo Satoru," the voice said.

Kyle froze.

"Wait... what? You mean the Gojo Satoru? Infinity? Six Eyes? Handsome bastard who can clap cheeks in every sense of the phrase?"

"Correct."

Kyle laughed. He couldn't help it. "Oh, this is rich. I die like a dumbass crossing the street, and now you're telling me I get to come back as a walking nuke? Is this a prank? Where's the camera?"

"You will be reborn in a world that requires balance," the voice continued, completely ignoring his outburst. "A world in chaos. You will be its new force of order—or destruction, should you fail."

"Order? Chaos?" Kyle shook his head—or whatever his equivalent of a head was now. "Look, buddy, I was just a guy trying to pay rent and not die of caffeine overdose. You've got the wrong guy for this whole 'hero of balance' thing."

But the voice wasn't listening.

"You will understand in time. Your journey begins now."

Before Kyle could argue, the glowing void pulsed, and he felt himself being yanked forward. Light swallowed him, warm and blinding, as if someone had cranked the brightness on reality to eleven.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Can I at least get a manual for Gojo's powers? No? Cool, cool. Thanks for nothing, asshole!"

The light grew stronger, and Kyle's last coherent thought before everything faded was a dark, bitter joke.

"Of course. I get hit by a car and still end up working overtime."