Reincarnated in the world of Wednesday as a Voidwhisper

[Perseus Point of View]

I find myself on the brink of death. It may cross your mind that I met with some unfortunate accident, a collision with "truck-kun" or a similar calamity, but no, my demise is the result of an unexpected heart attack during a casual stroll through the woods.

You might be curious as to why I was wandering in a forest. 

Well, the reason is quite simple. Overwhelmed by a day of relentless studying, I sought solace in the outdoors, hoping a brief walk would offer a relief. 

And now here I am, lying beneath a tree, grappling with the reality of my imminent death.

It baffles me how this could happen. 

At 22, with a history of good health and a commitment to the mantra of "mens sana in corpore sano" (a healthy mind in a healthy body), one would expect me to be the epitome of well-being. 

However, my heart seems to sarcastically question this assumption – "Are you sure, Bro?"

I feel my life draining, while I observe my surroundings. The wind moves with a delicate sway, orchestrating a subtle dance among the leaves, accompanied by the gentle rustling of foliage and the melodic symphony of birdsong. 

What a beautiful sight, only when you are dying you can appreciate things that you didn't give too much value before. 

Perhaps I should cry out for help, as a desperate attempt to summon assistance. Yet, fatigue has drained me to the point where even a scream feels beyond my abilities. Instead, I find myself gazing at the swaying trees, the sun casting its warm glow upon my face, awaiting the inevitable arrival of death.

Thus, here I am, facing an untimely end, ironically fortunate to be surrounded by the serene embrace of nature. 

No wait, wolves live in these very woods. Well, isn't that just my shitty luck?

Contrary to the fear that typically accompanies such a dire situation, I find solace in the face of Death. I am not like those who cower before its impending grasp. If death claims me, so be it. 

As a famous Roman emperor once said, "Death smiles at us all; all a man can do is smile back."

Perhaps I am departing this world prematurely, but I am not afraid, I am a macho, so I will smile at Death, and it will smile me back.

Additionally, I didn't die as a virgin hahahhah. 

While I was reflecting upon these thoughts, an unsettling sensation envelops me. 

My eyelids grow heavy, the irresistible urge to close them intensifies with each passing moment. Breathing becomes a laborious task, and despite the sun's scorching rays, an unexplainable coldness crawl over me. 

My vision gradually blurs, and in this vulnerable state, my last thoughts where 'You lied Marcus Aurelius, Death isn't smiling back.'

The stoic facade crumbles, and I confront the undeniable truth - I am afraid.

I find myself in an unexpected situation – feeling cold. 

It's confusing; how can I experience cold when, according to my understanding, I've ceased to exist? 

I reluctantly open my eyes and a wooden door greets my vision. I confusedly watch my surroundings and some understandings hits me. The realization that I've been reborn. 

The next realization that hits me is that I am confined in a body that refuses to respond to my commands. So, I'm a baby now, a reality that seems weird. 

Adding to the challenge, snow descends upon my reincarnated self, and I find myself exposed to its unforgiving chill.

The snowflakes caressed my face, which would usually evoke a pleasant sensation, now serves as a reminder of my helplessness. 

I want to seek refuge inside the nearby house, away from the biting cold that seeps into my frail form. However, my attempts to move are met with the frustrating inertia of uncooperative limbs.

Contemplating the frightening prospect of facing the elements without the ability to shield myself, a glint of fear ignites within me. Perhaps I should cry out for help, a desperate attempt to summon assistance. This time, fatigue will not prevail me!

Before I can voice my torment, the wooden door creaks open, and an elderly woman appears. She scans the surroundings until her eyes meet mine, and a gasp escapes her lips. 

Urgently and compassionately, she approaches, cradling me in her hands. "Poor baby, who is so cruel to leave you under the snow? You are all soaked wet and cold," she exclaims, her words a comforting melody amid my discomfort.

As she lifts me, a piece of paper flutters to the ground. Retrieving it, she reads aloud the inscription: "Perseus, so this is your name, little one. Don't worry, little Percy; I will take care of you." Her voice, slightly hoarse but overflowing with warmth, reassures me in a way that goes beyond words.

Observing her features closely, I find solace in the genuine kindness emanating from her warm smile and kind eyes. Despite the gravelly undertones of her voice, there is a comforting quality that hints at a reservoir of nurturing care. 

As she cradles me, sheltered from the relentless rain, a newfound sense of security begins to replace the initial anxiety. 

In that moment, a thought surfaces in my mind 'I am not afraid anymore'.