For centuries, I’ve observed countless worlds.In all of them, the same old stories: warriors with swords bigger than their egos, mages shouting spells like they were in a karaoke contest, and chosen ones with prophecies nobody asked for—but everyone accepted.

  But then… he showed up.He just… appeared.Like a note scribbled in pencil inside a history book.

  Aven.College student. Human. Early twenties.Fan of buttered toast and sitcoms.Sounds thrilling, right?

  Well… it wasn’t. Not at first.He died. And that wasn’t exciting either.

  ‘So this is how it ends? It was a good life.’Those were his final words.

  It was just an illness.Rare. Slow. Unfair.The kind of thing you simply can’t solve.

  Aven didn’t scream.Didn’t cry.He accepted the end with the same calm he used to solve all his problems.And maybe… that’s what caught my attention.

  ‘Ah, I see... This is heaven.’You see what I mean?

  In a world where people die crying, screaming, or bargaining with gods, this guy looked at me like I was just… a thing that happens.

  I asked if he wanted to reincarnate, or if he’d rather stay in paradise.

  ‘I think... I’ll stay here in heaven. I had a good life. No regrets.’

  Those words surprised me.People always asked to be reborn as millionaires’ children or as heroes in other worlds.But not him.He was already satisfied.

  So, I did what any modern goddess would do when she finds something interesting:

  I sent him to one of my worlds.

  A world where magic repced science, where nobody knows what a scale is because everything floats, and where solving a puzzle without shouting “Fireball!” is considered witchcraft.

  And that’s where it all began.

  The story of Aven, the man who didn’t want to be a hero.The man who solved magical riddles with pin old logic.The man who, without meaning to, turned my boredom into my new favorite show.

  And if you’re bored too… stick around.I promise it’ll be worth it.