What Do You Mean I'm Going To Regret It Later In The Future?

The wind whispered gently across the ancient desert, a place steeped in history. Maybe this moment would carve a new chapter, a tale for future generations to learn. Perhaps the history books would grow thicker, though who knew if children would still read books by then.

I lay motionless, surrounded by the bodies of brave soldiers who had given everything to win this war. That's what I assumed, at least. I couldn't say what went through their minds during the battle, not that it mattered much now. They were all dead, and I might be the last one still clinging to life. As far as my eyes could see, only the iron-clad corpses of my comrades remained, their weapons scattered lifelessly among them.

Why am I here? Well, because I was one of them—a soldier fighting in this great war between mankind and demons. They had emerged from the shadows of hell, declaring all-out war on us. But in the end, the Demon King fell, and humanity claimed victory.

Victory. Yet the cost was immeasurable. Soldiers, civilians, entire nations—all gone. The world itself had been reshaped by the destruction. Even though we won, I couldn't move anymore. My body was heavy, drained. I would die soon, joining the fallen around me.

A bitter laugh escaped my dry lips. How cruel life was. Here I was, unmarried, no girlfriend, and now at death's door. It was almost funny—my life ending before it had truly begun. If there's a god out there, I thought, I'd love to meet him before I die. Not that it would matter much.

"God? He's dead. Or sealed, to be more precise."

What? A woman's voice, soft and melodic, broke through the eerie silence. Was I hallucinating? Was death playing tricks on me?

"You're not hallucinating. And yes, you're about to die. Your magic is gone, and your heart weakens with each beat."

I smiled weakly. Hearing such a beautiful voice at the end of my life, even if it was just in my head, felt like a blessing.

"No, it's not in your head. I'm really here, human. Open your eyes."

I forced my eyelids open, and there she stood—an ethereal figure, her body shimmering white with wings fanning out behind her. She looked like a woman, though her face was a blur. What was she?

"Who are you?"

"So many have fallen, even though humanity triumphed," she said, her voice laced with sorrow. "It's tragic."

"You... you're here to take my soul, aren't you?"

"In part, yes. But that's not my main task."

I blinked, confused. "So... I'm not going to die? Where's the Grim Reaper? I'd like to file a complaint."

"Relax," she said, her tone patient but firm. "I'm not here to take your life just yet. I have an offer for you."

"An offer? To a dying man?"

"That's right. And I promise you won't regret it."

I had nothing left. No family, no future. What could I possibly give in return?

"I'm not asking for anything right now," she said, reading my thoughts. "But later."

"Later?" I echoed, skepticism creeping into my voice. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she hesitated, "I want your body."

"What?"

I stared at her, bewildered. What was she saying?

"Not like that!" she huffed, sounding almost offended. "I want you to work for me. In return, I'll reincarnate you—let you keep your memories. What do you think? Fair, right?"

Reincarnation? My mind spun. Religions spoke of it, of souls returning to life after death. But did I believe in such things? I wasn't a religious man, didn't think much about heaven, hell, or an afterlife.

"Can you read my mind?" I asked, half-joking.

The angel let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Fuuuh... Hurry up, kid. I didn't come here to listen to your internal monologues."

Her casual frustration caught me off guard. I was dying, for God's sake. Shouldn't this be a profound moment filled with flashes of my childhood, long-lost loves, and dramatic soccer matches?

"You've got none of those," she scoffed. "Weren't you just a NEET, hiding away in your room until your parents sent you off to fight demons?"

"What?! How do you know about my life? Were you spying on me?"

"Impolite," she muttered. "I'm an angel. I've watched you since you were a child, even during your... nightly activities."

"W-What?!" I choked out. "There are no angels here, only a weird woman with big—"

"My chest is not that big!" she snapped.

"Want me to test that theory?" I teased, earning an indignant huff from her.

"How crude!"

I sighed, feeling the last of my strength drain away. "Just let me die in peace."

"Seraphiel!"

A deep, rumbling voice interrupted us. I looked up to see a massive black figure, its glowing red eye piercing through the haze. It was like thick smoke, but solid, and it moved toward us with an ominous presence.

"Solomon," the angel whined, her tone suddenly childish. "This perverted NEET said he'd squeeze my chest. Isn't he mean?"

"Solomon?" My blood ran cold. That name... there was no mistaking it. The Demon King Solomon, the leader of the war, the one slain by the hero. But here he was, standing before me, as real as the angel by his side.

"Calm down, you two," the black figure said, his voice soothing. "I apologize for Seraphiel's behavior. She is my wife, Archangel Seraphiel. And I am Solomon, the Demon King."

I stared at them, my mind struggling to process this absurdity. The Demon King... married to an Archangel? Wasn't that against every law of nature and religion?

"This war," Solomon said softly, "was a mistake. It should never have happened."

A mistake? I thought bitterly. Tell that to the millions who died.

"I didn't start this war," Solomon continued. "I'm just a victim."

"Victim?" I spat, anger rising. "You slaughtered humanity!"

"Not me," Solomon corrected. "My real body was sealed. The demons were used to provoke this war."

I couldn't believe it. "Then who did the hero kill? And why are you here?"

"Well..."

After that, Solomon began his tale. He explained that his true form, along with Seraphiel's and even God's, had been sealed away. The reason? God had sanctioned their union—an unthinkable marriage between the Demon King and the Supreme Archangel. Not everyone was pleased. Some rebelled, and a third party intervened, sealing them all.

"A third party?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief. "Who could do that?"

"The Quantum Lord," Solomon spat, his voice dripping with fury. The air around him seemed to vibrate with raw anger, his killing intent palpable. His eyes, though hidden within the dark mist of his form, burned with hatred.

The Quantum Lord. The name sent a chill down my spine. From what little I knew, he ruled over the Quantum Universe, maintaining the delicate balance between worlds, ensuring the cycle of life and death continued without disruption. The Quantum Lord even scattered Quantum Dust across the cosmos, a gift to humanity, to aid in their evolution. Many revered him as a god. His followers worshipped the "Eye of the Quantum Lord," a symbol they believed represented his all-seeing nature, the overseer of the universe.

But now this being, once hailed as a divine protector, had betrayed and sealed God himself? My mind struggled to grasp the magnitude of this revelation. It was too much. Just the thought made my head spin.

"Why me?" I finally managed to ask, my voice hoarse.

Seraphiel, who had been clinging affectionately to her husband, straightened. Her expression turned serious as she regarded me, her previous playfulness gone. "Because your future intrigues me," she said softly. "If you reincarnate, I see something... unique."

Her words made me pause. Even though she was still the same woman with the distracting, voluptuous figure, her tone carried a weight I couldn't ignore.

I took a deep breath. "Alright," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "I'll accept your offer."

"Good choice, human," Solomon said, his voice low but approving. "Don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Seraphiel nodded, stepping toward me, her wings glowing softly in the dim light of the battlefield. "It's settled then. Just remember, no matter what happens, don't regret this decision. Even if you end up regretting it later."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'regret it later?'" I started to ask, but before I could finish, her hand plunged into my chest.

There was no pain. Just a strange numbness as I watched her pull my spirit free from my body. I could see my physical form lying lifeless among the corpses, as though I had merely fallen asleep. Then, a blinding white light filled my vision, erasing everything.

"Fuuuh, it's done," Seraphiel said, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness.

"Good job," Solomon replied. "I'll accompany the boy in his next life."

Seraphiel smiled softly. "Yes, I'll be watching over you both from the highest heavens."

Solomon's dark form shimmered briefly. "Take care, my love."

"And you, my dear," Seraphiel whispered as the world around me faded. "Be careful."

Then, everything went dark.