Jake's life ended on a Tuesday night. Nothing special—until it was. He was walking home from a long, boring shift, music blasting in his ears. He didn't see the truck. It jumped the curb. The horn screamed. Pain hit him like fire.
Then… nothing.
His name, his dreams, his regrets—gone.
He woke up, or thought he did, in a strange place. It wasn't really a place at all—just black, empty, and endless. He had no body, no breath—only thoughts. I'm dead. Panic started to rise.
Then, a light appeared.
A glowing blue screen floated in front of him.
[WELCOME, SOUL #487,392.]
[TRANSMIGRATION SYSTEM STARTED.]
Jake didn't understand. What is this? The screen kept going.
[YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO BE REBORN.][SPIN THE WHEEL TO GET A NEW BODY AND POWER.]
A huge wheel appeared, spinning slowly. Each section had a name: Storm King, Poop King, Leg Master .
Jake blinked. Is this some isekai nonsense? He laughed in his head. Whatever. Let's do it.
He made the wheel spin. It buzzed as it turned, then slowly stopped.
It landed on a part covered in dark fire.
[FATE SEALED: REAL DEVIL – LUCIFER, MORNING STAR.]
Power rushed into him—hot, wild, and dark. He saw flashes in his mind: a great angel falling from the sky, wings covering the sun, a voice that changed reality itself.
I'm the devil?
The screen kept going.
[POWERS: Immortality, Biokinesis, Chronokinesis, Invulnerability, Pyrokinesis]
Power flooded him like a dam breaking open—violently, without mercy. He couldn't scream. He had no throat. But he felt it: a storm of fire, time, and flesh ripping through the core of whatever he was now.
Then—
Pain.
Real pain.
Jake woke up choking.
Air rushed into his lungs like he hadn't breathed in years. His chest convulsed, his fingers dug into dirt—actual dirt—and the smell of earth, sweat, and something metallic hit him all at once.
His eyes opened.
Blue sky.
Clouds.
A hot sun.
And somewhere far off… screams.
He blinked hard and sat up slowly. He was lying in a narrow alley, cobblestone beneath him, walls made of brick. The buildings looked old, European—but not modern. He looked down. His body was… different. Leaner, stronger. Bare, except for a pair of worn black pants tied at the waist with a crude rope.
His arms were scarless. Skin pale.
"What the hell…" It was his voice—but not exactly. Deeper. Calmer.
He stood up shakily, the world tilting slightly as he got his bearings.
He wandered out of the alley.
And froze.
People were rushing in the distance. Soldiers. Horses. Families yelling. A siren blared in the far-off sky—a deep, horn-like sound that sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't modern. No engines, no tech, no phones.
A group of people ran past him, not even sparing a glance.
"What's going on?" Jake asked a passing man.
The man shouted without stopping, "The Titans! Wall Maria's under attack! Get to the inner gate!"
Titans.
Wall Maria.
It clicked.
Attack on Titan?
"No f***ing way," he whispered.
...
Jake stood in the middle of the empty street, staring at the open breach in Wall Maria.
Titans were pouring in.
He saw one of them — massive, slow, mouth open — grab a man and bite him in half like it was nothing.
Jake didn't flinch.
Not out of courage. He just… couldn't feel fear.
It was there, somewhere. The instinct to panic. But it was buried deep. Like his nerves had been rewired.
He looked down at his hands. Smooth, unscarred. Lighter than he remembered.
This isn't my body.
He turned his palms over. No marks. No veins. Just perfect skin that looked like it had never known pain.
Lucifer. Right.
That power — it wasn't just a name on a screen. He could feel it.
He looked at the breach again.
And slowly, without thinking too hard about it, he willed himself upward.
His feet left the ground.
No wings. No magic words. Just intent.
He rose, slow and steady, as if gravity didn't apply anymore.
No one noticed him. Not the soldiers. Not the panicked civilians. Not even the Titans.
Am I invisible?
He glanced down at the street as it grew smaller beneath him. People ran under his floating body, never once looking up.
Good. He didn't want questions.
He reached the top of the wall and hovered just above the stone edge. The wind hit his face. Real wind. Carried the smell of blood and smoke.
Jake stepped down onto the wall.
Quietly.
He stood there, barefoot, shirtless, and calm — staring out over Shiganshina as it burned.
He watched a group of Titans tear through the outer district. One of them pulled a rooftop off like it was paper. Another crushed a soldier mid-leap.
"This is what Hell looks like," he muttered to himself, voice low, calm.
He looked at his hands again. The same hands that had once clocked into a grocery store every day like a machine. The same hands that couldn't even fight off a speeding truck.
Now?
He couldn't explain it, but he knew—if he wanted to, he could turn one of those Titans into ash. Or freeze time. Or bend his own flesh into wings and fly into the sky like a god.
"I'm not Jake anymore."
The name didn't feel right in his mouth.
"I'm Lucifer. And this… this world has no idea what's just been dropped on it."