A King’s Burden

Darkness.

That was all he could see.

There was no sound, no sensation. Not even the feeling of his own body. Just... the void.

"So this is how it ends."

Or so he thought.

Just as his thoughts began to scatter, a presence stirred the void. Heavy, like an ancient force, but warm, not cold.

"So you finally arrived, huh?"

A voice, booming yet calm, like thunder wrapped in silk. It echoed everywhere and nowhere.

"You died, kid. But lucky for you, I'm feeling generous today."

He blinked—or tried to—but there was nothing, nobody to command. Only a thought formed. "Generous?"

"Yeah, generous. You get a second chance. Though, of course, there's a catch."

"...A catch?"

"Of course. You don't get to choose where you're going. Nor what you'll become. All up to gacha, my boy."

He hesitated, a spark of hope warring with dread. A second chance? But at what cost?

"Relax. You'll like it. Or not. But hey, a second life is a second life."

With a casual snap of the being's fingers, a wheel appeared in the void, spinning with blinding speed. Glistening panels, names, and worlds flashed past like stardust.

"First roll: the world you'll reincarnate in. Let's see how lucky you are."

The wheel spun faster. Names danced in circles — One Piece, Naruto, Elden Ring, Dark Souls, RWBY, God of War...

His thoughts stilled as he watched. Faster, faster, and then—

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wheel began to slow.

"Ooooh, spicy," the voice chuckled.

[GOD OF WAR (2018 Timeline)]

The being let out a low whistle. "Brutal world, kid. Hope you like Norse gods and trauma."

His heart pounded. God of War? The realm of Kratos. Monsters, gods, and things far worse.

"But don't worry! You won't be going in empty-handed. Now... let's roll for your template. What power will define your soul?"

Another wheel formed, this one even more elaborate and glowing faintly gold, as if the very concept of fate spun within it.

Names appeared and vanished—Gilgamesh, Hercules, Merlin, Solomon, Goetia, Zeus, Enkidu, Artoria, Lancelot, Karna, Arjuna—dozens upon dozens of legendary existences.

The wheel spun violently, faster than the last. His heart caught in his throat as he watched it blur into light.

"Here we go..."

Faster. Louder. Until finally—

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wheel slowed and then stopped.

[Solomon/Goetia — The Legendary King of Israel, Grand Caster of Humanity]

The void seemed to tremble in silence.

"Ohoho… now that is a jackpot if I've ever seen one," the being laughed, leaning forward. "You didn't just get Solomon — you got the Grand Caster and the Demon Pillar fused existence. You're carrying the wisdom of a king and the power of a mage who could stand against the end of the world."

His mind whirled. That power… wasn't just overwhelming — it was terrifying.

"But..." the being's voice darkened slightly, losing its playful tone. "Great power is never free."

The words hit like a hammer.

"You will become Solomon. Slowly. His knowledge, his magic, even parts of his memories — they'll integrate with your soul as you grow."

He swallowed, or he thought he did.

"But it's up to you whether you'll remain human or become something else entirely."

The being leaned back, though he could feel its gaze sharp as blades.

"And to make this game more interesting—" the being grinned, "—you'll be reborn as Kratos' first son. Five years older than Atreus."

Shock slammed through him.

"You'll inherit Kratos' monstrous strength and raw physical talent. But your magic — ah, your magic will be Solomon's."

"You will start receiving your powers from the age of five. Consider it... your awakening."

"You'll have time to adjust. But remember—this world isn't kind. Nor is your father."

A wave of golden light began to ripple outward, cracks forming in the dark void like glass breaking under pressure.

"Now, go," the being said softly, but with finality.

"Become a king. Or a monster. It's up to you."

Light exploded outward, swallowing him whole.

Pain, warmth—sensations rushed in like a storm.

He could feel something—a body, small and fragile. His eyes were closed, but light filtered through his eyelids. He tried to move, but his limbs were weak.

Sounds filled the air. Muffled, gentle. Voices.

A soft hand caressed his head, calming, soothing. His eyes opened just a sliver.

The first thing he saw was the ceiling of a wooden cabin, glowing with warm firelight.

A woman leaned over him, her eyes tired but filled with love. Faye.

Beside her, a towering figure stood, arms crossed — Kratos. His face was stern as stone, but in his eyes, something softer stirred.

"He's strong," Kratos said quietly as if speaking a fact of nature.

"Like his father," Faye murmured, gently cradling the small body in her arms.

Even as a newborn, he could feel it — the storm of power sleeping within. His tiny muscles held the potential of a warrior who could oone-dayrival Kratos himself. And deeper still, ancient knowledge, vast and endless, like an ocean behind an unbreakable dam.

In the corner, wrapped in a small bundle, a baby lay sleeping peacefully. Atreus.

"Our firstborn," Faye whispered, leaning close. "You will protect your brother."

Kratos' eyes did not soften, but he gave a small nod.

"His name?" Kratos asked.

Faye smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the baby's cheek.

"Leonidas," she said, voice soft but firm.

The name lingered in the air like a vow.

"Leonidas…" Kratos repeated, as though testing the name in his mouth.

The baby's eyelids fluttered as sleep claimed him again, but within that fragile form, a question burned like embers.

"Leonidas... Solomon... Which am I?"

And as his tiny body relaxed, Faye whispered to him one last time:

"Rest now, Leonidas. You have a long road ahead."