"Ma, I swear, I'm not late. I'm like... early-adjacent," Ryan Wayne said, dodging pedestrians as he walked along the sidewalk, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was casual, but his shirt collar was sweating with urgency.
"You're not even at the hall, are you?" Helena Wayne said on the other end. Her tone had that practiced blend of motherly love and exasperation, honed by two decades of Ryan's nonsense. "Ryan Samuel Wayne, if you're late to your own award ceremony, I will personally reincarnate you with my sandal."
"Ma, you wouldn't hit a dead man."
"Try me."
Ryan chuckled, passing the neon glare of a 7-Eleven. "I'm literally across the street from the venue. I can see the banners. 'Wayne Award for Academic Excellence.' They spelled our last name right this time. That's a win."
"You could be valedictorian if you'd spent half as much time studying as you did memorizing movie quotes," Helena muttered.
"Hey, knowing every line from The Godfather builds character," Ryan said.
"It builds unemployment."
He snorted. "Look, I'm about to cross. Green light's on. I'll call you after I collect my ridiculously oversized novelty certificate and milk the free buffet."
"Ryan… I'm proud of you, you know? Even if you're a clown, you're my clown."
"Aww, Ma, don't get mushy now. You're gonna make me—"
HONKKKKKKKKK.
Ryan turned his head.
White. Blinding. Sudden.
Truck.
His last thought was, "Oh come on, I had the right of way."
The Void
Ryan gasped awake.
There was no ground. No sky. Just an endless stretch of white—like being trapped inside a screensaver. He flailed, but gravity eventually remembered to work and he landed gently on something solid-but-not.
He checked his body. No blood. No bruises. Still dressed in his suit, though slightly crumpled.
"Did I... just get Isekai'd?" he muttered.
A presence pressed at his back. He turned around.
There was a man sitting at a sleek white desk. A long, bureaucratic desk. With a steaming cup of tea, a folder titled 'Case: Ryan Wayne', and a floating nametag that simply read GOD.
The man waved. "Welcome to the After-Administrative Void."
Ryan blinked. "The what now?"
"It's like Purgatory, but with paperwork," God said, smiling warmly. "Sit. We have a mix-up to sort out."
Ryan sat down across from him, cautiously. "Okay. Let me guess. I'm dead."
"Yup. Sorry about that. You were hit by a dimensional transfer vehicle."
"A what?"
"A truck. A magical truck. Think of him as our celestial HR's relocation department. We call him… Truck-kun."
Ryan blinked again. "Did you just say—"
"Yes. I said Truck-kun. Japanese honorifics. It's a whole thing."
"So I died because a meme ran me over?"
"Well, technically you weren't the intended target," God said, opening the file. "Let's see... we were supposed to hit a Ryan Dwayne. Similar age, nearby location, identical outfit, unfortunately for you."
"You're telling me I died because someone copy-pasted the wrong Ryan?"
"Not the first time. Once we reincarnated an accountant into Bleach because his last name was 'Kurosaki.' Poor man couldn't swing a sword to save his life."
Ryan put his head in his hands. "So what now? I get judged? Sent to the big waiting room in the sky?"
"Nope," God said, sipping tea. "You were taken prematurely, so this one's on us. You get full Isekai Compensation—custom reincarnation package."
"I... what?"
"You get to choose the fictional world you'll reincarnate into, and I'll grant you a number of wishes based on the... let's say, karmic roulette."
Ryan's eyes lit up. "Hold up. I can choose the world and get powers? Like in the anime?!"
"Yes, although you'll choose the world randomly. Same for the number of wishes. It's only fair."
A snap of God's fingers echoed through the empty space.
Two massive wheels spun into existence in the air.
One was labeled "Worlds", flashing names like Naruto, Star Wars, Doctor Who, SpongeBob SquarePants, and Grey's Anatomy (with a tiny skull icon next to it).
The other was a clean, elegant circle marked simply with Roman numerals: I through X.
Ryan stood, jaw dropping. "That's... that's amazing. That's like gamer heaven."
God stood beside him. "Wheel One determines which world you'll be reincarnated into. Wheel Two determines how many wishes you'll receive—no more, no less. Wish wisely. You only get one spin per wheel."
Ryan stared at the wheels, suddenly sober. "Wait, hold on. Before I spin... Can I talk to my mom? Just for a second?"
God's smile softened. "No direct contact. But don't worry—she'll be okay. She'll know you're safe. And proud of you."
Ryan swallowed. "She was on the phone with me when I... went out."
"I know. She hung up mid-scream. She's going to cry for a while. But she's tougher than you think."
"Yeah... she is." He straightened. "Alright then. If I'm getting isekai'd, I'm going out in style."
God clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Now, take a moment. Once you spin, the process starts. No take-backs."
Ryan approached the wheels, heart thudding.
He reached out—then paused.
"Okay, before I do this, what's the worst world I could get?"
God shrugged. "We did have someone land in Teletubbies. They didn't make it past Day 3. Turns out the baby sun is sentient and carnivorous."
Ryan paled. "Good to know. Right. No pressure. Just eternal life or sun-baby hell."