"Noooooo!"
The scream tore from his throat like an animal in pain.
A fat, unattractive man stood frozen on the sidewalk, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched the woman he loved—the woman he had devoted five years of his life to—kiss another man in public.
Not just any man, either. The guy was tall, lean, and effortlessly handsome.
His jawline could have been chiseled by gods, his hair perfectly tousled like he had just stepped out of a magazine.
And there she was, his girlfriend—beautiful, curvy, radiant in a red dress—wrapped around him like she had never belonged to anyone else.
He stumbled forward, eyes locked on the sight that shattered his world.
How could this happen?
He remembered the first time he met her, during freshman orientation.
She had smiled at him—kindly, sweetly—and his heart had soared.
From that moment on, he was hers. He carried her books, walked her to class, bought her meals, paid her rent when she said she was struggling.
And he had waited. Waited for the day she would finally see him not just as a provider, but as a man worthy of love.
Five years.
Five long years.
And in all that time, the most physical contact he had received was a fleeting touch of her hand on his.
No hugs. No kisses. No intimacy.
She always said she wanted to "take things slow," that she wasn't ready.
And he believed her. Because love, he thought, was patient.
But here she was, kissing another man like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Not just a kiss—she was melting into him, her hands on his chest, her body pressed against his.
The fat man's hands curled into fists.
"Ahhhhhhh!" he cried again, louder, his voice raw and guttural. Pedestrians paused to stare.
Someone across the street pulled out a phone and began recording. But he didn't care.
Let the world hear his pain. Let them know how love had destroyed him.
Tears welled in his eyes, and he took a staggering step back.
His chest tightened, a sharp pain shooting down his arm. He gasped. The world tilted.
No, not now… not here…
He clutched his chest, his legs buckling beneath him.
Thud!
His body hit the pavement, eyes wide and staring, mouth open in a silent scream.
Within moments, a crowd gathered. Someone called for help. Someone else screamed.
But for him, it was over.
He died of a heart attack.
Alone. Betrayed. Broken.
And somewhere in the distance, the sound of his scream still echoed.
Unfortunately for this world—and for every single person who had ever mocked, humiliated, or used him—this was only the beginning of the fat, ugly man's story.
What came next was something not even the gods had foreseen.
"Ding!"
A metallic chime rang out in the darkness. It was clear, pure, and alien—like the tolling of a celestial bell.
Then came a voice. Soft, melodic, and laced with an odd blend of compassion and power. It echoed from the abyss as though the void itself were speaking.
"Congratulations, host. The multiverse has taken pity on your tormented soul."
"Due to the immense injustice you have suffered, a once-in-a-billion chance has been bestowed upon you. You will be granted one wish, and thereafter, you will cycle through countless worlds—realms of sword and magic, galaxies of war and politics, lands of beasts and immortals. In each world, you shall grow stronger, wiser, and more feared."
"When the balance of the multiverse has been restored, and your mission fulfilled, you will return to your original world—at the exact moment of your death, empowered, and unconquerable—with every skill, power, and ability you have earned along the way."
The fat man blinked.
He had collapsed on the street just seconds ago, his chest wracked with pain, his vision fading as he watched the love of his life kiss another man.
Now, there was only void. Endless, suffocating blackness that stretched in all directions.
He felt weightless—bodiless even—as though his soul had been separated from flesh and tossed into the infinite.
Was he dreaming? Had he died?
The voice answered his thoughts before he could even ask.
"No, you are not dreaming. You are now in the Interversal Void—the space between realities. Here, your soul is being recalibrated for the journey to come."
He took a breath—if it could be called that in this strange, airless space.
So this was real...
This was actually happening.
After years of mockery. Years of being the butt of every joke. Years of silently crying himself to sleep while pretending to be happy.
After loving a woman who never truly loved him—
After giving and giving, only to be left behind and spat on like trash—
Now... the multiverse itself had acknowledged him.
He clenched his phantom fists. A strange warmth filled him.
Not the warmth of love or hope, but something darker. Righteous fury. Vengeance.
The promise of power.
Then he spoke.
"Will my wish remain intact even after I complete this… quest?" he asked cautiously. There had to be a catch. There always was.
"Affirmative, host. Your wish shall become the final law of reality once you return. What you choose now will shape not only your fate, but the future of all worlds."
That sealed it.
No hesitation.
No second thoughts.
His voice rang out strong and full of conviction:
"Then I wish to become the absolute ruler and owner of this entire multiverse. Its emperor. Its god. Its one and only true master."
Silence followed.
A long, cold silence.
He almost thought he had gone too far.
Maybe the system would reject him, laugh at him, call him unworthy.
But then—
"Wish granted."
The voice no longer sounded soft or distant.
It rang with finality. With reverence.
Suddenly, the void trembled.
A golden circle of runes appeared beneath his feet, glowing brighter and brighter until the darkness was burned away by light.
He felt something surging through him—raw energy, ancient power.
His body reformed—not the bloated, broken shell he had once known, but something better.
Taller. Stronger. Leaner. Handsome. Radiant.
His form was still incomplete, but it was evolving.
Power. Pure, unfiltered power coursed through him like rivers of fire and lightning.
His mind expanded, flooded with knowledge from countless realms—how to wield a blade, how to bend mana, how to master the laws of physics and rewrite them at will.
He screamed—not in pain, but in rebirth.
The system voice returned, now mechanical and formal:
"Initialization complete. Multiverse Conquest Protocol activated."
"You will now begin your journey in the first world. Generating random world... Generation successful."
A crack splintered across the void like a fractured mirror, light bleeding through the jagged edges.
He smiled.
No longer weak. No longer ugly. No longer forgotten.
This time, the world would remember his name.
And when he returned…
They would all kneel.
Without hesitation, he stepped into the crack—and vanished.