Death is the cessation of life. It is a natural process that occurs when the body can no longer sustain vital functions. It can result from various causes, including illness, injury, or old age. At the moment of death, the heart stops beating, and the brainstem ceases to function. While the exact experience of death is unknown, it is often associated with feelings of calm or release. Though that calmness never washed over me. When I layed on that pavement covered in my own blood, I felt cold. My thoughts were muddled, and I could not speak. I could not move; my limbs felt heavy as I tried and failed to move. It was as if I were under water; the pressure was too much for me to move my arms or legs. Then there was the fear that stemmed from the pain. The pain of having a knife tear through your chest The pain of having it tear through your tissue and run through your veins, but my fear was due to the unknown. Many thought Death a mercy; I did not. What happens after death? No one could answer that question. That's why Death is something to be feared; it leads to the unknown. Is there a heaven or hell? Is there any kind of afterlife? Or do you merely get a chance at reincarnation? Or do you cease to be? Simply expunged from existence because you have perished. No one could imagine it simply not existing. It was a disturbing thought, simply not being there anymore. So what was awaiting him in this dark, dark void filled to the brim with nothing but repetitive darkness? Would he cease to be? Get reincarnated? Or get sent to an afterlife, heaven, or hell? Who could tell?

"You'd be right on the reincarnation bit." A voice? Was I hearing that right? Have I gone crazy from being in this dark space for so long? "No, I assure you, you're quite sane. Which is remarkable." The voice spoke again, yet I saw no one, nothing. In this dark space, as far as the eye could see, I saw no other living thing.

"Are you going to respond or simply continue your internal monologue?" The voice asked, sounding annoyed. It was then that it occurred to me that I heard it everywhere; it reverberated throughout the entirety of the dark space. I could not discern whether it was a man or a woman, or whether it belonged to an adult or a child. It was strange; I heard it clearly, yet I couldn't discern it. But either way I decided to speak, I lacked body. I did not possess arms or legs. No body or mouth to form words yet I spoke all the same.

"Who are you?" The words came out less decently than I was hoping. I stuttered, my syllables taking some time to form as I awaited a response from the voice.

"I am no one. And I am everyone." It spoke, and its word were confusing. Yet it did not elaborate further as it spoke. "You see, it doesn't quite matter what or who I am; what matters is that I saw fit to give your insignificant existence another chance."

"Reincarnation?" I asked, and his words seemed to lead to that conclusion.

"No, you see, reincarnation is a process that recycles the soul of a singular entity. Their entire identity is removed once they go through the cycle, and then they are born as babes again. Or animals and insects. So I'm here to offer you a better deal."

"Deal?"

"Yes, a chance at a new life in a new world. Your identity will be intact, and you will still be you."

"Why?" A single-word question again; it was a bit difficult to speak, but I had to know. I was an average kid; there was nothing particularly unique about me. But I had a passion for creation, if that counts.

"Because I feel like it." The voice answered as if it were the most simple answer. But I didn't pry; this was a chance to live again after all. But what would I be leaving behind? Nothing. I had no family bonds, no friends, no lovers, and not even any pets. So why shouldn't I take it?

Maybe because there's a chance at Death again. I don't want that to happen again. But some things were out of my hands. I learned that when a knife ran through my chest, it was simply because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I...I accept."

"Very well, that was rather quick. But before I send you to your new world, I'll give you something."

"What...world..like?" I asked, though my sentence seemed incomplete.

"It's quite entertaining. Filled with minor gods and would-be heroes and what not." It sounded like that tidbit of information wasn't important. I felt like I should've been staring at him dumbstruck (if I had a face), but I couldn't muster a reaction. My time here has dulled me.

"Mention...so-something..."

"Ah yes, a gift, so you don't immediately die. Though don't expect me to hand you a power, I much rather have things be interesting. So I'll give you an opportunity to throw away your humanity and be something more."

If I could, I'd tilt my head in confusion. Was he asking me to choose a different race and be something else? That was a big choice, but a necessary one. Though I walked the Earth for 14 years, I can't say I had any attachment to being human. But still, this was a choice that had a lot to take into consideration.

Also, you have ten seconds to decide; I have rather thin patience." I would've sighed if I could. But I already had something in mind. Not the best choice. But a decent one.

"A-Ancient...Fin-final...Fantasy...f-fourteen..." That had taken a lot more effort than I was hoping. Regardless, I got the word out.

"Doable, but I must stress a point first. Depending on your race, your appearance would be heavily altered."

"It...fine..." I spoke; it was going to be strange having a new face. But for a second chance at life? A new face was a small price. Besides, I rather like a new one; that androgynous face that made me look like a girl was really annoying. Hopefully I'd be more masculine. I hope so.

"Then I bid farewell, but first I'd like to ask...Heaven or Hell?"

In hindsight, it was an idiotic move. Why had he thought that things would go differently? But in his defense, he thought it was a trick question. Apparently not, though.

"Welcome to hell." He spoke the words easily as he read the graffiti on a brick wall. At least his speech was no longer impaired, but still, that entity was a troll. As he looked at his barely audible reflection in a glass window, he could not help but curse.

Skin so clear, smooth, and pale, you'd think it was synthetic. Soft lips and a button nose, and large round eyes with sky blue irises that radiated with a small glow. And of course, who could forget the head of white hair that sat atop his head? Reaching his shoulder, it was unkempt, with several strands shooting up. Any individual could mistake him for a girl if it weren't for his choice of clothing. But obviously, that wasn't enough most of the time. He sighed once again as he brought up his right hand. It was so small and delicate, like he had never done a hard day's work. But he quenched his annoyance; now wasn't the time to scowl at his appearance.

So he focused, and a blue energy radiated inches above his palm. In the dark streets, it was as if it were a small beacon of light lit. But that beacon of light soon died down as he stared at his palm.

There was now a bill for 10 dollars in his palm. The face of Alexander Hamilton sat atop it; it looked like any other 10-dollar bill, down to the last minute detail. He had created it just now, for that was the power he held. The power of the Ancients The ability to create anything, non-living or living There was no limit to the power besides the user's imagination. With it, you could create anything you wanted, but it took concentration. One stray thought, and your creation would be messed up.

It required Aether, a kind of energy source, one could say. In the world of Final Fantasy, it was the dominant source of energy. Used for a lot of things, such as the use of magic. But he had a long way to go before he could utilize it to its full extent.

"Smell, check. Correct President, check. Right number, check." It took a lot of effort to create the single bill—more than he would've liked. It was made more difficult because he lacked any kind of reference to work with. But he had a good memory, at least now that he was out of that dark void. Everything was much clearer now. But enough of that; he pocketed the bill as he walked on.

A sprawling metropolis characterized by its Gothic architecture, towering skyscrapers, and dark, brooding atmosphere The city could only be described as shrouded in darkness, with gray skies and smoky alleyways contributing to a sense of foreboding. Tall steel buildings loomed over narrow streets, casting shadows across the city. Dilapidated buildings and graffiti-covered walls dot the landscape. When that entity said he would be sent to a different world, he'd never imagined it would be here, of all places. If he had known, he might not have taken the offer. Then again, he'd rather not think of what the alternative could've been.

But still, this was probably not the best place to begin his new life; the air was thick with chemicals and the streets were littered with trash. How anyone chose to live in such a place was beyond him. And that wasn't even the worst of it; in the distance, gunshots continued echoing through the air, and he could hear the various sirens. Yet people didn't seem too bothered by those occurrences.

"I screwed up." He spoke to himself as he walked on the streets; only a few people were out and about. Said people sent him glances as soon as he passed; well, that was to be expected. He had a rather exotic appearance. So with a sigh, he pulled his hood over his head.

It was a good thing he chose to be an Ancient, because he spawned in this world butt naked. He had to create clothing. It's a good thing it was a simple affair. So a simple overgrown hoodie, black in color, black sweat pants, and sneakers—the latter being most difficult to make— Creation Magic was the best.

It had infinite possibilities, and even that was an understatement. Make a giant fireball. Done. Create a new kind of animal? Done. Creating food? Done.

Though he needed a reference if he created something, for instance, fire, If he wanted to create fire, it wasn't a simple matter of it combusting out of thin air. No, he needed something to work with. For instance, as the atoms in the fuel heat up, they begin to vibrate until they break free of the bonds holding them together and are released as volatile gases. These gases react with oxygen in the surrounding atmosphere. That could be a reference he could use in order to make fire. Creation Magic was both simple and complicated.

"Excuse me." Cutting his thoughts short, he approached one of the few people still out on the streets. A middle-aged man, wearing an unironed suit and holding onto a briefcase, which he gripped tighter as soon as someone spoke to him.

"Y-yes?" The man squeezed out, looking ready to all but bolt away at a moment's notice. But his fear turned to a slight shock as he caught a glance at his face.

"Are there any convenient stores nearby?" He simply asked, forcing the man out of his stupor of admiring his face.

"Yeah, just head down the street and just head left from there."

He mouthed a thank you as he moved past the man.

("Guess this face has its benefits.") He looked harmless to most, so naturally, extracting any kind of information was a simple task. Though he still wished he didn't look so much like a girl, like he wasn't even androgynous, he just looked like some extremely flat-chested girl. He could've lived with that, but obviously he needed to have damn glowing eyes and white hair, of all things. Truly, that entity was a troll.

He sighed to himself again as he reached his destination after following the man's directions. The convenience store was tucked into a narrow alleyway in the heart of the dark city. The exterior was dingy and unwelcoming, with flickering neon lights advertising cigarettes and beer. Inside, the cramped space was cluttered with dusty shelves stocked with cheap snacks, sodas, and candy. The dim lighting adds to the overall seedy atmosphere, and the cashier behind the counter looked bored and tired. Despite its lack of appeal, the store serves as a necessary stop for those looking for a quick fix or late-night necessities.

Moving through the store, he caught the suspicious glance the cashier sent. It was most likely warranted; a small hooded figure just entered the store. And in a city like this, it was understandable that said cashier might think he had ill intentions. Either way, he ignored the cashier as he moved to a particular shelf. Reaching towards it, he took a simple Sneakers bar.

("Funny, different world yet still the same kind of brand.") Musing to himself, he went back to the cashier and, showing the bar of chocolate, handed the tired man the 10 dollar bill. Though he made sure to keep his head low, he didn't need someone else gawking at his face. No words were exchanged as the cashier took the bill; working with the register, he retrieved two dollars and a few cents. Bidding the cashier a good night, he exited the store. Now once again on the dark streets, he leaned against a wall near the convenience store. Undoing the wrapper, he quickly took a bite out of the chocolate bar. Munching on it, he tried to recall the ingredients used for the chocolate.

('Milk Chocolate, Sugar, Cocoa Butter, Skim Milk, Lactose, Milkfat, Soy Lecithin, Peanuts, Corn Syrup, Sugar, Palm Oil, Skim Milk, Lactose, Salt, Egg Whites, Artificial Flavor.") He was a chocolate enthusiast; he tended to memorize the ingredients and make them himself when he was still in his world. He had a lot of free time to experiment and whatnot, so the ingredients were second nature to him. "Now then, weight is 1.86 oz, and height is almost four inches, I think? Hard to tell"

With the bar of chocolate now finished, he shoved the wrapper back in his pocket as he opened the palm of his right hand. Momentarily, a bluish light ingulfed his hand, which died down as something began to take shape. Reminiscent of the sneakers bar, he now held it in his hand; it lacked the wrapper but looked identical to the devoured chocolate bar. So, raising it to his face, he took a bite.

("Chewy, but still taste the same. Something is just off with the taste though, something to work on." With no reservation, he ate the bar of chocolate in record time. As noted, that was an experiment, so to speak. It was easy to shape the composition of the chocolate bar, seeing as he knew its ingredients. But he still needed to see it firsthand to get a clear picture of what he wanted to create. Money was simple but way more difficult; one wrong move in creating it and he'd get tossed in a cell. But still, this was progress; soon he'd be able to create living things and things that should not exist. As powerful as he could become, he feared that it would not be enough.

"This is the DC universe after all."

A/N:For anyone who doesn't know, an Ancient is a race in the Final Fantasy series. Though the one the MC is, is the one from Final Fantasy 14, the MMO. Since this isn't a full on crossover knowledge on FF14 isn't needed per say. But I will include other Ancients into this story, so this is a kinda AU DC. But if anyone is confused as to what an Ancient from FF14 can do then it's pretty simple. They're basically Lanterns on crack. They can create anything, living or non-living. They're only limited by their imagination. So they could basically do anything. Though they can do much more, this MC will mostly focus on the creation application. And Aether is used to make the creations. Aether is a power source found in the Final Fantasy universe. The MC uses it, but I won't go to in-depth on how in functions. But abilities that most Ancients have is they're able to understand everything that has a soul, so basically they have a universal translator. They also have limited future sight.