1 It begins

Cold. That was the first sensation John was able to understand. And darkness, everywhere. It sounds odd to describe darkness as a sensation, but in this case, the darkness was heavy like a down comforter made of lead.

All at once a rush of memories floated through his mind. Street lamps, a Christmas parade. Screaming. A lone child, crying, clutching a balloon by its string.

Footsteps. Thunderous in quality, seeming to echo in John's head. Then, he could feel that child in his arms.

A loud repetitive popping noise. Sparks flashing against the dark night, bouncing off hard concrete.

Then cold. Terribly cold. The kid wasn't crying anymore. John didn't know why but knowing that the kid had stopped crying broke his heart into tiny little pieces.

For a man who had just died, you would expect that he would be more concerned with his own plight. Yet, he supposed, the most tragic part of his death was not that he had died during a mass shooting at a Christmas parade held every year in his hometown. It was that he had died trying to save this kid, but he had failed, and the kid had been killed by the same bullets that ripped through his own body before he lost consciousness.

A light. Distant, but growing larger in his vision, accompanied by an eerie keening noise, like the whirring of countless machines or the beating wings of a thousand insects.

The noise became unbearable, John's head feeling like at any moment it would burst from the pressure the noise exerted on him.

"Is this it then? The light at the end of the tunnel I've always heard about?"

Then, suddenly, silence. An endless chasm of silence. Followed by a sudden, light, amused laughter.

"Hello, John."

John's eyes, previously clenched shut from the pain, snapped open in surprise.

"What the- Am I… not dead?" spoke John aloud.

"You're quite dead. But don't worry, we'll fix that in a jiffy."

The voice echoing in the darkness seemed to be ephemeral, it lacked the specificity that the voices of humankind had. It was a gentle voice, however, one filled with warmth and kindness.

"You did a wonderful deed, John. Even though you failed. Good deeds deserve good rewards. That's what I am here to offer you." Said the voice.

"What are you?"

"I am karma, John. At least, that's as good a name for me as any. In truth, I don't have a name of my own, or even a single identity. I am multifaceted, fleeting, and yet… eternal. I am an extension of you in part. Just as, in part, I am an extension of everyone else. All people know me. All cultures worship some form of me. I am neither good, nor evil. I am peerless, all-powerful, all-knowing, and all good. Just as I am overcome by all, weak, ignorant, and evil. I am."

John's head ached with confusion at the seeming contradictions.

"You must be thinking about all of the contradictions I just listed. John, is it not true that your worlds own scientists have studied and theorized about quantum particles that both exist and do NOT exist? I am but an extension of the rule of law that makes this possible, an expression of it, among many others."

John sighs. "So, you're God?"

"If you like."

"Okay then, God. What is my reward supposed to be?"

"A choice. You may return to your world, but once you return you will not be able to live the life you knew before. That path has ended. I cannot control what the year will be when you return, it could be 1492 when Columbus sailed the Ocean Blue. Or it could be 2093, when Humanity finally cracked the secrets of faster than light travel, and began expanding far into the reaches of space, seeking new worlds, and new species. Or, you can simply cease to be. You will fade, as most do when they die, until you live only in the memories of those who knew you. These are your choices. I am afraid I can do no better."

John was speechless. Usually, in the novels he had read so many times in the past, when an MC died, and they were offed a chance at rebirth, they ended up gaining immense powers, or a system that granted them magic.

This was so… depressing.

"That's… it? You can't do anything else? You can't send me to an alternate world where I can learn magic and fight evil beings, and be awesome? You can't give me a system that gives me an edge over everyone else and allows me to accomplish insanely cool things and give me the chance to become an all-powerful, peerless warrior being?"

"No. I cannot do those things. But that is because those things are already within your capabilities as a human."

"My… what?" John's confusion continued to grow.

"Magic, as was commonly said by many on your planet, is only science which you had yet to understand. The strength to grow without limit is already something inherited by every human. The ability to adapt, to grow stronger, to become peerless… The secret to these abilities is already encoded into your DNA. It's locked within the confines of your mind, and any who have the willpower required to break apart those locks could freely control those aspects of themselves. To have those abilities, you need only look within yourself."

John's mind was totally blown.

"So then… Could you give me a thorough knowledge of various topics?"

The voice remained quiet for a few moments. "I can do this, however… This does not fall within the confines of your reward. As I have stated previously, your reward is your choice between the two alternatives. Anything beyond that…"

John sighs heavily, in defeat.

"However, I see no reason why we cannot work out a deal between ourselves."

John's ears pricked up in excitement.

"What kind of deal are we talking about?" Asked John.

"An exchange, of sorts. As I have said previously, good deeds merit good rewards. Thus, I see no reason why I cannot provide you with knowledge in exchange for further good deeds."

"Can I ask for a loan then?" Said John excitedly.

"Hmm. You may. However, some bits of knowledge are worth more than others. One good deed may not be enough to earn the knowledge you seek. However, if the scale of the deed you do is large enough, it may indeed be possible to earn any amount of knowledge you seek."

John frowns before grinning. "That's okay. That just means I'll have to do some pretty amazing things with the knowledge I gain."

The voices next words contained a chuckle. "I shall look forward to your exploits, John. Now, make your choices. Will you fade away, or return to the world of your birth?"

John grins. "I will return."

"What knowledge do you wish to get on loan from me?"

"I wish for all the knowledge necessary to create a System of my own."

"That's a tall order John, but it as we have agreed. When you next desire knowledge, use the system you create to ask it from me. Believe me, I shall be watching your progress."

"How many good deeds will I have to accomplish in order to earn this knowledge?"

The voice laughs lightly. "I won't lie, the number is startling. You have quite the challenge ahead of you."

Before another word could be spoken, John's eyes opened, and before him was the blurry face of his mother.

An exhausted, feminine voice spoke to him. "Ambrose. My little Ambrose!"

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409 A.D. LUGUVALIUM – Southwest of the Wall

Winter in Roman Britain was always a miserable affair. Ambrose, now 12, however, felt nothing but excitement despite the weather.

In his father's forge, he had at long last developed his first system. Given that the science is too abstruse to understand, and the tools used to create it are completely unique, Ambrose might have been hung for witchcraft or forced to join those ridiculous Druid cults if it were discovered that he had accomplished something so monumental with such rudimentary tools.

He had used his fathers forge to create the metallic components of the more advanced tools necessary to create the system. Using Solar energy panels he had derived from very rough components, he had gathered energy in a makeshift battery which he then used to power his tools and create an extraordinarily complex Nano-computer chip. The computational power would be derived from his own brain, whereas the chip itself contained information and programming so complex that it operated on the quantum level.

The author, knowing that the details of such science would be beyond the reader's ability to understand or appreciate (excluding those who may also be aware of such sciences) has elected to remain silent on the specifics of Ambrose's work. Needless to say, it was really, really, really hard to do what he had done.

Thus, after supplying a charge of electricity to the Nanochip, he attached it to the delivery component (cleverly disguised as a pill) and swallowed it.

The only other thing he could do now was wait for the chip to enter his bloodstream and make its way to his brain where it would attach itself and begin drawing power from Ambrose's body itself.

Ambrose had estimated that it would take a full day before the chip reached an operational status and he could begin using it to his heart's content.

"AMBROSE!" Came the sweet voice of his mother, Lynae. He grinned. In his past life, when he was John, he had not known his mother. He had grown up in an orphanage, abandoned there by his father who had no desire to raise a child on his own.

"Coming mom!" He shouted back.

Taking a last look at his tools, he quickly thrust the majority of them under the wooden flooring, into a hole had created to hide his tools.

He swept the area with his eyes, ensuring he had forgotten nothing, and then quickly raced off to answer his mother's call.

As he approached the origin of his mother's voice, however, he sensed the stark change in atmosphere.

Soldiers stood in the doorway of his home. His mother stood, trembling, staring at his father.

His father had lost a leg in service to the empire and had taken up work as a blacksmith in order to provide for his family. He had always carried a charming and laid-back attitude, as though nothing in the world could faze him.

This attitude was nowhere to be seen now. "Is there no other way, Gracchus? He's just a boy." Came his father's gruff voice.

Gracchus, a Centurion, sat across from Ambrose's father with a grave expression.

"I am sorry, Titus. There is little I can do to help you. At most, I can assure you that he will be thoroughly trained before deployment. His Majesty has conscripted every male over the age of twelve for the tenth regiment. Your son must go willingly, or I am required to take him."

Understanding and shock dawned in Ambrose's eyes.

"So, I'm to be a soldier."

Ambrose's statement was heard by his parents and Gracchus at the same time and elicited several surprised reactions.

"You have a strong son, Titus. I can see it in his eyes. He will be alright. Especially if he takes after his parents."

"Father, mother. Thank you. I'll be alright. I'll go with them. I'm not afraid."

Titus expression grew very dark, his frown deepening before he heaved a heavy sigh that seemed to age him prematurely.

Ambrose' mother, Lynae, wept to herself and embraced Ambrose, while Titus stood up and retrieved an old but well cared for sword from above the mantle of their fireplace.

"This blade served me well as a soldier. May it serve you just as well and bring you back to us safely." Ambrose then embraced his father with all his might.

Gracchus watched the proceedings with a calm, unreadable expression.

The last image that Ambrose had of his parents was of the two embracing each other as he was led away from his home by Centurion Gracchus.

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