"Do not come!"
"...Do not come!"
A beautiful woman pleaded, gasping for breath.
"I'm gonna come!"
Alas, her words were cut short by her partner's unabashed declaration. Loud and solid.
The man blurted out, as if he had no control over his mouth—or his motion.
3 minutes and 33 seconds.
Frankly? 33 seconds was all he needed to obtain enlightenment.
The remaining 3 minutes was pure willpower.
To be fair, Noah Miller couldn't be blamed for his subpar performance. Apart from Odessa being a total stunner, it had been years since his last on-field demonstration.
Noah had been quite an active player in his medical college days. His residency years were also very colorful.
Everything was covered by doctor-patient confidentiality. Or was it doctor-nurse confidentiality? Anyway, it wasn't like he lacked experience.
It was just that he had gotten so used to performing simulated solo raids for the past few years that he'd almost forgotten what joint missions in the real dungeon felt like.
***
Rewinding a bit back in time.
For the last five years, Noah had been stationed overseas as an army doctor. The foreign base he was assigned to was a barren land with almost no entertainment to offer. (The food was good though.)
It was not easy to have a romantic heart when one was surrounded by guns, torn limbs, and deaths around them on a regular basis.
But the brutality of the war was not the reason he'd been without the bliss of a female company for so long.
Was it because of the strictness of the army then? Ummm... Nope.
To be frank, being in the army wasn't as colorless as civilians made it out to be. When people lived under the same roof on foreign soil, human connections were bound to happen one way or another.
Simply put, there were plenty of female soldiers and non-combat staff who took on the role of army wives for the deployed troops.
Then why didn't Noah get his share of care?
Of course, it was because he had once offended his superior. And there was no one more petty than an army official hell-bent on making a soldier's life a living hell.
So, Noah was kinda excommunicado by almost everyone in his unit.
Thankfully, his unit was attacked by a lone kid gunman one day. Noah's personal-bully superior was the sole victim of this incident.
Had he known the kid and what he was about to do beforehand, Noah might have volunteered in the act. Fortunately for our doc, he couldn't do a collab with the kid.
Noah could only offer the kid a silent prayer—"Rest in peace, kid. You did me a solid."
Then something even more wonderful happened.
The management had the gall to assume he and his superior were close pals because of their various "friendly" interactions.
Of course, Noah had to do the right thing and set the records straight.
…
He played the role of a devastated friend well. Receiving Oscars.jpeg.
Eventually, Noah was relieved of his active duties because of the accident actually taking place right in front of him, which contributed to his extreme stress.
Swoosh. Zoom. Cut to the flight scene.
Let it go… let it goooo!
Noah couldn't help but sing with passion in his heart on the return flight.
As an army doctor on mandatory rest, Noah still retained many privileges.
No living parents. No family. A few friends.
Basically, he was a full-of-youth free bird. He wasn't addicted to vices so he had some savings.
This free bird then found his first temporary nest down south when one of his army buddies from a different unit got hitched.
He had come to this place to attend the wedding and was supposed to return to his blue heaven up north on the same day.
But, as fate would have it, he fell in love—with the "local cuisine."
Ummmm… Bigger was indeed better.
It didn't take much convincing for him to appreciate the beauty of walls.
His first meeting with Odessa was like a romcom fast-forwarded with 69x speed, getting all the major interactions right.
Was it Noah's desperation or Odessa's loneliness that pushed them towards each other with such an unstoppable force?
In the end, the collision took place.
Cue Noah's current predicament: Where the hell did he throw his clothes?
***
A few hours later.
A blue Camaro with black accents zipped through the lonely streets.
The evening breeze still carried the warmth of the sun, mixing it with the coolness of the moon, which had decided to show up earlier than scheduled.
Hm? Wait a minute. There was a hint of rubber and gasoline in the air.
Damn it.
Noah really needed to change his tires and check for an oil leak somewhere.
Maybe at the next gas station—tomorrow.
Yeah, that makes sense. There's always tomorrow, right?
And at this point, it was time for a song.
"I've been tryna call…"
"I've been-on-my-own for long-enough…"
"Maybe you can show me how-to-love, mayyyyyyybe…"
Noah sang along to the tune playing on his car's stereo.
He couldn't deal with a playlist full of different tracks when driving solo.
He needed the comfort of familiar lyrics, something that truly hit when you were in that kind of mood. The buzz of a road trip could only be felt in the moment.
For some reason, Noah felt refreshed. It was as if a rusty part of him had been thoroughly cleaned and oiled. It made creaking noise no more.
The song really suited his current trip and mood.
"I look around and aaaai…"
"Sin City's cold and empty… oof!"
"No one's around to judge me… hoooooh!"
"I can't see clearly when you're goh— oh– oh– on and I….!"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Suddenly, his smartphone rang. A bit of a mood killer but Noah didn't mind.
He was still seeing the world in colors with extra contrast today.
Conveniently, the smartphone was connected to the car's system, so he picked it up with a button on the steering wheel. The song paused automatically when the call connected.
"Hey, there. What's up?"
Noah didn't bother to check the caller ID. A charming woman's voice came from the other side.
"Um… is this… Noah?"
Noah raised his brows in surprise. A smile crept onto his lips as he replied.
"Keke. What a pleasant surprise, Sunshine. I didn't think you'd call so soon. Tell me—um…. Should I turn my wheels around?"
After spending some quality time with her, he was starting to like her.
Of course, he'd redeemed himself after his subpar performance in the first raid earlier in the day, clocking in a solid 7 minutes on the second go—this time prioritizing Odessa's needs.
He felt genuinely proud. Gorilla pounding his own chest.jpeg.
Indeed, one had to shoot blanks first before going on a real hunt.
Odessa seemed to smile, even though he couldn't see her. She cleared her throat before speaking.
"Um… no. It's alright. You go meet your friends for the next four days. We can meet by the weekend," she suggested.
"So… just like we discussed, right? Cool." Noah said casually.
A strange silence filled the car for a moment. Odessa looked like she was about to say something, but her lips pressed shut again.
Finally, she spoke up, her voice soft and unsure.
"I… I just wanted to ask you something."
Noah adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and leaned back a little.
"Yeah? Tell me," he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
There was a short silence again. Then she asked in a hesitant voice, "Did you… see any scar-faced man when you left my place?"
Noah frowned slightly, confusion crossing his face for a split second.
That came out of nowhere.
He did simple math and came with a conclusion.
"Nooooo," he said, dragging the word a little. "Why? Is he your ex or something?"
At the same time, he opened the bottle of water sitting in his cup holder. He took a big gulp as Odessa replied quietly.
"Yes… he's my ex…."
"...."
"Um…. ex-husband."
Noah was about to spray a mouthful of water on his car's dashboard and windshield like a certain WWE superstar but he managed to control himself.
"You told me you weren't married!" he said, wiping his chin with his sleeve, clearly annoyed.
"I'm not," Odessa said softly. "I'm divorced."
Noah narrowed his eyes a bit, not at her, but at the road ahead. "Since when?"
Suddenly…
Vroooom. Vrooom.
There was a loud engine revving behind him. A black Impala—sleek and vintage—flew past him, the driver clearly in a rush. The car was modded for sure. It roared like it was challenging the whole road.
Back to the call, he waited for her answer.
"…Yesterday," Odessa said after a moment.
Noah blinked. "Huh? Say that again?"
Odessa took a breath, then repeated it, clearer this time.
"I signed my divorce papers yesterday."
SPROOOF!
Noah completely lost it. This time, the water went flying again—out the window and on his lap. HHH waterworks– car edition.
"Bro—seriously? Yesterday? That's…. No… wait. The divorce hasn't been finalized from his end, has it?" he asked in disbelief, wiping his face again.
On the other end of the call, Odessa didn't respond right away. Maybe she was waiting for him to yell. Or maybe she was just embarrassed. Noah couldn't tell.
"Ya know...You're something else, Odessa," he muttered with a dry chuckle, shaking his head.
"Does it really matter? It's not like I took that decision on a whim," she said. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm divorced—and I'm never going back to him again."
Odessa finally spoke again, her voice clearer and more confident now. But then, as if she suddenly remembered something important, her tone shifted.
"Anyway, listen," she continued, more serious this time.
"My ex-husband—he's crazy," she said, lowering her voice slightly. "I think he saw you leaving my house. So please, stay alert. Don't meet him or try to talk to him over the phone in case he somehow gets your number. Just avoid him, okay?"
Noah raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh?"
"No problem. I won't talk to him. It's not like I was excited to meet the guy," he said casually, then let out a soft sigh.
'Women,' he thought and smiled mirthlessly.
To him, it all made sense. She probably didn't want her ex-husband ruining things. Maybe the guy would say something nasty or dig up her past.
Maybe she just didn't want her new start with Noah to get mixed up with old drama. Fair enough.
"Alright then. Is there anything else?" he asked, sounding chill again.
"Um… no," Odessa replied after a brief pause.
Noah noticed her voice had gotten softer again. Maybe she felt bad for calling just to give a warning. Or maybe he was being too rude.
So he smiled and added lightly, "Alright then. See you this weekend."
There was another pause, and then he said, "Also, I'd like it if you wore something yellow when we met."
Odessa didn't respond right away, but when she did, her voice sounded energetic—like she was smiling again.
"Fine. See you this weekend," she said. Then the call ended.
Noah scrunched his nose in annoyance.
"Haah! Why did I say yellow? Shoulda gone with the pink or purple," he muttered. Then he smiled.
But the smile didn't last long.
Up ahead, the same sleek Impala that had zoomed past him earlier suddenly braked hard—right in the middle of the road.
F!
Noah's eyes widened as he slammed his foot on the brake pedal, at the same time yanking the emergency brake.
Screeeeech—!
The rubber screamed against the road, but it was no use.
The car started skidding out of control. The whole car tilted, then flipped.
WHAM. WHAM. WHUMP.
Metal screeched, glass cracked, and the world spun like a broken washing machine.
The blue Camaro crashed sideways into the dirt beside the barren road.
Silence.
Dust floated in the air like lazy ghosts.
Noah groaned from inside the car.
Thankfully, he had his seatbelt on, so he wasn't seriously injured.
Noah's head throbbed, and his vision was fuzzy, like someone had turned on a blur filter. His thoughts were spinning too.
"What… what in the world…" he muttered, his voice dry. He blinked slowly, trying to get a grip on his surroundings.
That's when he heard it. The low rumble of an engine.
The Impala had returned. It rolled up beside the wrecked Camaro and came to a stop.
The door opened with a sharp click. A man stepped out.
He walked slowly toward Noah, not in a rush, not panicking. His face looked calm but his eyes... there was a fire there.
Noah squinted, trying to get a better look. The guy had a scar running down the right side of his face.
"What the hell, man?!" he said, coughing a bit, his voice still shaky. "You almost killed me!"
The man didn't reply. Instead, he reached into his coat.
Click. A shotgun.
He raised it, walked up to Noah's window, and pressed the cold barrel right against Noah's forehead.
Noah froze.
His breath caught in his throat. His body stiffened.
"Do you know someone named Odessa?" the man asked calmly, like he was asking for the time. It was a rhetorical question. There was no room for lies.
Noah's mind did a quick math once again.
Scarface. Crazy ex. Shotgun.
Yep, that added up real fast.
'Well now that I look at it… she really wasn't kidding when she called him crazy.'
He tried to stay calm. He raised his hands slowly.
"Listen, man. You don't want to do anything stupid," he said, his voice trembling just a little.
Then he added, "I… I'm from the army."
He didn't know why he said it. Maybe he hoped it would make the guy back off.
But it didn't.
The man blinked slowly, clearly surprised. "Oh? What's your howl?"
Noah blinked too, caught off guard.
"Uh… Willing and Able," he replied, his voice unsure.
The man nodded once. "Mine's By Force and Valor."
Then the guy did something out of the character. He suddenly lowered the shotgun. Instead of pulling the trigger… he reached out and grabbed Noah by the shoulder.
"Huh?"
With surprising gentleness, the scar-faced man helped Noah out of the wrecked car and guided him to a large rock nearby.
He made Noah sit down carefully.
Noah just sat there, confused as hell, dust in his hair and sweat on his forehead. His nose bled a little.
"You okay?" the guy asked, still calm, still cold.
Noah looked at him like he was seeing a ghost.
"Um… I don't think you have the moral authority to worry about me after causing the accident. But yeah. I'm fine. What are you planning to do here?" he asked.
The man said nothing. He just looked toward the empty road, shotgun still in hand, eyes distant.
At one point, Noah felt like grabbing the man's gun or running away. However, he was in an injured state. Even his brain wasn't braining properly.
There was no way he could outmaneuver a guy like Dean in his current state.
After a moment of silence, the man finally spoke.
"Name's Dean," he said, like they were meeting at a coffee shop or something. "Yours?"
Noah took a deep breath. "Noah," he replied, his voice dry.
Dean nodded, like he was filing that info away.
Then he dropped the bomb.
"You know I'm going to kill you, right?"
Noah blinked again. This time slower.
His headache got worse.
"…Huh?"
He stared at Dean, waiting for him to laugh or say just kidding, but the guy didn't even flinch.
'Alright… intimidation tactic. Classic crazy-ex move,' Noah thought. This wasn't his first interrogation conducted by exes, fathers, uncles, and brothers.
He tried to keep it cool. "Listen, man… if you want to say something badmouth Odessa or whatever to make me leave her, why don't we just—"
Dean shook his head.
"Why would I say anything bad? She's an angel," he said with a straight face. "I'm the crazy one between us."
Noah paused.
'Wow… So much self-awareness,' he thought, blinking slowly again. There went his chance to argue.
How do you fight back with logic when the other guy already agrees that he's insane?
Then Noah's mind suddenly caught up.
Wait… this guy might actually be serious.
As if him deliberately triggering an accident wasn't enough for Noah to get the hint.
The doc felt a cold chill crawl up his back.
"Y-You know what would happen to you if you kill me, right?" Noah stuttered.
Dean tilted his head slightly and smiled.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be fine. I have my friends here in the local government. Just a few years in prison. Maybe less if you cooperate with me in your death."
Noah laughed.
It wasn't a happy laugh. More like a nervous, I'm-going-to-die-lol kind of laugh.
Dean reached into his coat and pulled out a silver metal flask. He twisted the cap off and held it out toward Noah.
"Drink?"
Noah blinked. "Seriously?"
Dean nodded. "Yes. It's gin. Strong. Helps with pain… and dying conversations."
Noah chuckled nervously but took the flask anyway. One sip in, and it burned like fire down his throat.
The two of them sat there by the side of the road—one leaning on a rock, the other… he was there but his mind was still halfway trapped in a flipped car.
For the next hour, they drank and talked. Or rather, Dean talked. About wars, broken promises, what love used to feel like, and how men like them were born just a little too late for glory, and way too early for peace.
Fake PTSD meets real PTSD. Or was it just a hunger for war for Dean?
Some men weren't made for the time of peace.
Noah listened. What else could he do?
In the end, there was no escape. Dean gave him a look that said, this is happening—and Noah climbed back into his wrecked car like a man boarding a coffin on wheels.
His only comfort was that he was too drunk to feel scared or think straight.
Noah didn't know what killed him in the end—the crash, the gin, the shotgun, or fate. All he remembered was the lights.
Bright. Blinding. Beautiful.
His wrecked Camaro had the courtesy to play the loop song on his dying moments:
"No, I can't sleep until I feel your…"
"Touchhhh…..!"
"...."
Noah's closed eyes became lifeless.
And the blinding lights faded like a quiet room slipping into darkness after its only lamp died.
Fin?
Roll back. Rearrange. Reboot!
Somewhere else… somewhere far far away…
Blinding lights had temporarily robbed someone of his vision, so it took him a while to adjust to their surroundings.
When Noah thought about his only dying memory again, he sighed.
The former army doc was still called Noah—but everything else had changed.
He was now five years old… and the 9th royal prince of a powerful kingdom in another world.
A world filled with mana, monsters, steam-powered machines, and a whole lot more.
Even Noah wasn't aware at this point how he got here or what the future held in store for him in this new world.
For example….
Even though his milk teeth hadn't fallen out yet… he was betrothed to a hot, bodacious duchess in a politically arranged marriage?
How aweso–… Err… I mean how awful! Horrible!
And why was he dreaming about a greedy blonde genie who wouldn't stop adoring him and his money?
"Master… oh master!"