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Reboot
#1
Sweet, sweet bliss of eternal slumber... The blackness that envelopes all, the emptiness that washes away all worries, all aches and pains of the mortal coil... I must be in heaven... and this is my eternally young body...[i] And then his eyes open. If this was heaven, then maybe he was still at the gates, because it was awfully dark. Still, he felt so good, like he was sixty years younger, it was so strange.

His eyes fell upon a figure in the darkness. A stranger with no face, no features to speak of. It was like a dream, his unconscious mind trying to remind him of someone he just could not remember the face of... “My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”

[i]Omniverse? So... this isn't Heaven?
He would have to contemplate this. It may not be heaven, but neither was it hell, by this Omni's words. When the featurless entity offers an orb of shimmering colors, he accepts it hastily, practically hoarding it for closer inspection.

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most." His mind cast back, years into the past. This sounded a bit like... the Magic Stone... perhaps on steroids, but still. The concept was similar, a magical essence that imbued some with powers. And here he was, young and spry and holding this new power in his very hands.

"You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn." I'm immortal? The thought just added to his mounting excitement. “That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”

Absolute night turns to absolute white, the world around him bleeds into existence and suddenly, he finds himself sitting beside a magnificent fountain. Reflects the wishes... of those a part of it... he mused for a moment. He clambers up to his knees to peer over the edge of the fountain.

What he finds is so bizarre. He remembered his face, but... it was strange. Young, yes, but stranger still. He touched his cheek, before the reflection of his hand draws his attention. His rugged goatee, his mess of dark brown hair... It was his face, but not. His dark eyes, so unlike the bright hazels he remembered yet so familiar. His hair, shaggy and brown, again so familiar yet so strange.

"I'm... Nimo? He looked like the actor that had played Nimo in the movies, right down to the rugged beard and brown overcoat. Wait... He reaches into his inner breast pocket... and out comes a cigar and a box of matches. "I really AM Nimo..." The memory of that victory quirk rushed back: He'd always smoke a celebratory cigar.

Well... I did just beat death... He sat on the edge of the fountain as he lit up the cigar. It tasted as stale as he as he wrote them to be. It was odd, how familiar it tasted, as if he had smoked one before. Of course, he never partook in anything tobacco. Hell, maybe I'm both... An amusing thought. Two deaths, one new life. It was a paradox that could keep his mind spinning for hours. Not that he'd be able to tell in this pristine world.
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#2
Though time seemed to stand still here at the fountain, Nimo guessed a good thirty minutes or so had passed before he thumped his cigar away. Many things had crossed his mind, yet many thoughts still needed processing. Well, I can't stay here. Being immortal doesn't mean I wanna first day. With no cover and other "primes" roaming about, Nimo had no doubts that eventually someone else would show up, perhaps looking for guys like him.

Step one, pick a gate. It was hard to see, but he almost knew that the dots on the horizon were gates, most likely to other worlds. Why would this place be called a "nexus" if it was not the center point of multiple locations? No doubt, each one probably came with its own rules - both legal and physical. Nimo figured the name Omni was not for show. Omnipotent, and probably omniscient, that Omni-guy seemed like the type of guy, child really, to set up multiple playgrounds to amuse himself.

With a groan, he rose. Of course it was only in the memory of the pain that had once lingered in his knees that he made such a sound. Relief came next. So spry, so young, I really do feel immortal. Hell, maybe this is MY heaven? A grin split his face near ear to ear as he hopped about on one foot then the other, like a boxer. Out of pure curiosity, he jumps off one foot, the other leg rising in a strong knee strike. The air and hang-time were impressive. While not on par with Nimo's truly behemoth strength of the past, he could tell anything behind that strike would definitely be having a bad day afterwards. Hell to the YEA!

Invigorated with testosterone and adrenaline running through his veins, Nimo broke into a sprint towards a random gate. He knew he could not possibly make the distance, but the act of running again was just too tempting. Nimo Sever had always been a healthy youth, while he, the writer, had suffered from an assortment of shortcomings, particularly with his asthma. In defiance, he breathed deeply the crisp, bland air of the Nexus and exhaled. Inhale, exhale. Not a wheeze to be heard, despite his top notch exertion.

As expected, he lasted a while but even in his young, new body he had to slow to a jog after fifteen-or-so minutes. Even with the lighter exertion, Nimo still felt alive. He was oblivious of the absolute nothingness that surrounded him, the white void that would have sucked all emotions away. Nimo was happy to invert his thoughts for a while, it meant he could work over the more complex aspects beyond the youth he so enjoyed. There were so many though, where could he even start?

Omnilium. What's that about? Of all the places to start, it had to be the "essence" of this world. In Nimo's world, it was just exotic material given the umbrella name "magic." This world, not only did it have a name, it seemed to be native - and vastly important to the natural order. Anything I desire, he mused. What did he desire? Power... Recognition... A happy ending? The life of David Schwitz had been a happy ending, dying of old age with a loving family and a small fortune to pass down, but Nimo... His past life ended in tears. So... if I collect Omnilium... Be a hero?

Be a hero, that stopped him like a brick wall. He slowed to a walk. As his ragged breath catches up, Nimo is forced into the dark recesses of his mind. Could I really be a hero? Would it end like before? Nimo's valiance had been his undoing. Family man and Heroism never played out well, the question is... Will I start a family here? During an immortal lifespan, could he really choose just one? Would Omni grow bored if he could?

Hold up. He stopped walking altogether at this new thought. What if Omni starts getting bored with me.... That was a showstopper altogether. His immortality hangs on the entertainment of some all-powerful-couch-potato that saw his life as a TV show. Metaphorically of course. Still, Would I just... no longer reincarnate? Or would I start to fade? He peers down at his hand, as if checking to make sure he was still fully corporeal. Either way... I'm not immortal if I don't entertain... Maybe I should take up juggling? ... Juggling chainsaws... or chickens... That would be entertaining, right?

Yeeaaa, no. Fun thought, but he would never lower himself to a clown just to live a little longer. Having caught his breath, Nimo begins jogging again, his thoughts recollecting to assess the overarching dilemma he is now presented with. There's no guarantee I'll fall for anyone. If I do, then I'll just need to get stronger. Even as the thought crosses his mind, Nimo shakes his head. No. Not just strength... I'll need things besides big muscles, that turned out horribly last time.... for Nimo. He almost related directly to Nimo, as if his past life felt so familiar, it really COULD be his.


Nimo almost ran through the gate without thinking being consumed by his thoughts as he is. He was feeling the burn in his muscles, a pleasing ache had not felt in years, unlike the pain of aching joints. With this new construct to consider, he gave it a good long look. The smooth stone seemed almost old. If he had to guess, the world behind this gate would be something old. Perhaps a medieval fantasy setting. As a writer, he'd have the gate to such an era of magic be something as simple yet enchanting as a stone arc. Here I go, he mentally encouraged himself, reinforcing his will to step into the unknown. With one foot in front of the other, he enters the gate into what he'd learn to be Camelot, where his adventures would once again begin anew.
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