Michael was a pretty normal person by most standards. He was a salaryman for a dead-end job he hated, he ate out at least once a week, and he kept his apartment as tidy as possible. The only thing really out of the ordinary about him was his love of books. In a world that was rapidly shifting to online reading, Michael adamantly refused to read anything other than books. As such, his tidy apartment was chock full of books. He had at least five bookshelves crammed full of books, and he was always reading at least one book.

Michael had dreams of someday writing a book of his own and was always daydreaming about things to write. He did this so much that his boss had gotten on him for not working enough.

Perhaps because of this obsession Michael didn’t have many friends. Not that he didn’t want them, but that he was always more interested in reading than spending time with friends, so most people had given up.

One day however, on his way home from work, Michael’s life would change forever. He was reading a book while walking to his house. He had gotten to a good part and was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice that the stop light wasn’t on, nor did he notice the car going well over the speed limit.

Perhaps it was poetic that Michael died doing what he loved. Reading. Fortunately for him though. His death was not the end of his story. In fact. It was only the beginning.

By some twist of fate Michael retained his memories through the reincarnation cycle. Perhaps God was not paying attention, perhaps they had some reason, or perhaps someone else meddled in his fate. Whatever the reason, Michael was sent to a world very much unlike his own with his memories intact.