Chapter 1: 1. Life Is A Race
2025, January 20th
'All my hard work has finally paid off.'
"I, James Francis Ford, solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the..."
Boom! An explosion rang out.
"Aaaah!"
"Run! Noooo-"
Screams and shouts echoed among the terrified crowd. The Secret Service and military quickly noticed the disturbance and surrounded the zone. The people of power standing smugly until now were fear-stricken, realizing that all their power and wealth could not buy them the safety of life.
Their eyes then fell to the podium, where lay the body of the President-Elect, previously an ex-CIA Director. He lay headless on the floor as it had popped like a watermelon. The mic that the man was speaking into was now nothing more than bits and pieces.
At moments like this, the journalists had more spine. Instead of screaming and running, they tried to catch as many photos and videos as possible.
Beep… Beep… Ting! Tr-trinngg!
Suddenly, every single mobile phone in that area, whoever it belonged to, rang with notifications. Some took out their phones and glanced; there was a message with a link. A few daring ones clicked on it and found a live stream of a handsome old man speaking. His face looked wrinkled, the signs of ageing and weariness.
Clicking on the link, the people there didn't know that the entire world had received this message in every single mobile phone. Within a few minutes, the number of viewers reached 1.6 Billion. Some thought the stream was boring, but they didn't close it. It was because the old man in the video held a poster, with the words written, "I killed James."
The video continued.
All those, including the ones on the blast site, be it average citizens or security personnel, watched it with curiosity and fear as the man introduced himself.
"My name is Johnathan Colt Westerling. I am an 85-year-old orphan, who used to work for the CIA from 1959 to 1980. I was a spy in the Soviet Union under the cover of a wealthy industrialist named "Artyom."
"My wife was also a US spy there, and despite having to live in hiding, we had our moments and conceived a child. It was 1980, a month before my work was to be completed. I was going to return home with my pregnant wife to start a normal life. However, our cover was blown!
"My… my wife was killed, but I remained. Later, I discovered that, just like me, a lot more US spies have been killed similarly. Just a few days before their completion of the mission. I spent decades searching for the traitor, but when I found him, he turned out to be the most powerful man in the country! James Francis Ford is a traitor!"
The old man gritted his teeth and continued.
"James killed dozens of our spies in return for money from the Soviets. With no other way, I was forced to kill him. Powerful men like him rarely get punished, no matter what the crime. I have proof for everything, enough to make you all believe what I said is true. Now, you shall all receive a link next to access it!
"I just hope what… happened to my wife... does not happen to others. Those I swore to protect destroyed my home… and now, I hope this ends for good. God bless you all. God bless you."
The stream ended, and with that, every single mobile phone in the world received another message. Clicking on the link inside took them to a website with interactive content. Date-wise, all crimes of James Ford were listed there with proof. Documents, photos, audio or video - everything.
This set the world on fire, a fire for justice where those in power oppressed and used various schemes to get their way.
…
Around 15 minutes before the stream ended.
Howard Jack was at the scene when the blast occurred. Being an ace FBI investigator, he knew that his career would skyrocket if he could catch this old man. He didn't particularly care about the dead President-elect, anyway. Nobody did.
So as the live stream was going on, he slipped away and got into his car to track down the source. To his shock, it was not even masked. The old man was streaming openly. So he stomped on the gas, turned on the sirens and zoomed past the busy streets.
At the same time, he used a voice-assisted computer to check this man.
"Botcop, search for the name Johnathan Colt Westerling, born between 1935 to 1950," He instructed.
The system replied in an instant. "Beep. Three results are found. Johnathan Colt Westerling - born in 1935 - died in Vietnam in 1965. Johnathan Colt Westerling - born in 1940 - orphan - [Access Denied]. Johnathan Colt Westerling - Jazz Singer - Died in 2000."
Howard frowned and commanded a moment later, "Search the second one. Use the access code SPAFBI 40200609!"
"[Declassified] - Johnathan Colt Westerling - Parents unknown - Born in Brooklyn - MIT Mechanical Engineering - Joined army 1959 - Killed in Action in Laotian Civil War..."
"Is that it?!" Howard exclaimed, and tried to look at the screen. But just then, the AI spoke again. "[Declassified] - Artyom - WANTED - Russian Industrialist - CCCP member - Wife's name Antonina - dead - Father's name, Konstantin - dead."
From all this, Howard Jack realized what the old man said in his live address was true. It seemed he was indeed betrayed. Documents released suggested the same. But now, he was conflicted if he should even hunt this guy.
"I suppose getting more information from the national database will be impossible. Maybe I can ask him questions myself," Howard muttered.
He drove straight to the cemetery where the location was detected. He only informed the other law enforcement agencies after he arrived. But it seemed the people who lived nearby also saw the video and quickly came here upon realization.
He promptly went to arrest the man... but he was in for a shock!
...
Johnathan couldn't care less about any of this. He wanted the man to be dead, and now he was. He let the crimes become public because he didn't want to be named a terrorist, and then be used to start a war in some unrelated country.
He had live-streamed from the graveyard where his wife, unborn child, and his lovely cat, Simba, were resting. All these years, he was trying to keep his body and mind fit and strong to keep fighting. But now, it was as if all strength left him, and he fell to his knees.
"I did it, Diana… I did it!" He caressed the gravestone. "I brought justice to you, to all those who were wronged. I-I hope you will accept me now, for I have lost all my will to live. Not a single day goes by when I do not dream about us, our son, our cat... what life could have been, our little dream home—is all gone."
He took out a locket with a photo of them and stared at it tiredly. There was something in the air today. This was the end of the line, and Johnathan felt it.
Soon enough, he felt his breathing getting harder and his vision blurry.
Kneeling beside the grave, he caressed to clean the stone softly and took his last breath before it, "I'm... tired, Diana. I hope there is an afterlife... where I can meet you."
Suddenly, as if the heavens had replied to him, the cloudy sky seemed to have formed a dent, letting a ray of sunlight fall on Johnathan's body!
The flowers and the grass freshened up, yet the old man remained kneeling, his head held down, the locket in his hands, a photo of him and his dear wife open. His old wrinkly face froze, and his eyes felt heavy. However, there was no sadness or tears. He had been waiting to die since the day Diana left him alone.
Wooo… Wooo…
Sirens resounded. It was the modern era, and it didn't take long for people to realize from where the live stream occurred. Soon, a barrage of police officers, secret service members, journalists, and even ordinary people arrived at the location.
There they saw the concentrated golden sunlight falling on the old man's body, making him look like some angel. The ethereal scene left the people in awe. Cameras started flashing as the journalists took photos, and the police restricted the surrounding area with tapes. Howard Jack then went inside to arrest the man, but when he put his hand on the shoulder, Johnathan's body fell back. Lifeless, like a doll.
Howard's face fell as he exclaimed, "H-He's... dead?"
He checked Johnathan's pulse and confirmed that the old man was no longer in this world. Later in the postmortem, it was revealed that the death was natural. Johnathan Colt Westerling died while remembering his wife.
Photographs of the scene circulated around the world, all over the internet. It was the power of mass media, and he quickly became the greatest symbol of the fight against the corrupt people in power.
Seeing the scandal's size, the government had to take drastic measures. Johnathan's proof had the names of many senators, representatives, governors, police officers, army officers, officers of secret service, CIA, FBI and other influential people from around the world. It was surely going to be a nightmare in the coming years for the government.
Yet who cared, who even cares anymore?
Johnathan didn't, that was for sure.
...
What happens after one dies? Nobody knew that. Well, at least nobody alive knew that. Johnathan experienced what he could not describe in words. At first, he felt as if his body was flying in the sky, but he noticed his own body on the ground, still kneeling when the police arrived.
After his soul reached the sky, everything went black. He had no sense of time, space, direction, or touch. However, he kept his sense of sight and could see something. In this dark space, there were shining white snakes, all identical to one another. They were countless, but they didn't attack him at all.
They looked creepy and disgusting, but he became accustomed to them.
'Am I one of them?' he wondered.
Time passed. Johnathan didn't know how much, but his hope of reaching the afterlife and meeting his wife slowly shrunk like dying candlelight. He wondered if she was also going through this experience, stuck somewhere. Or maybe she was one of these snakes?
"Argh..." Suddenly, he felt as if something was squeezing and pushing him. He tried resisting but had no control over this feeling. Then, he saw that the other snakes were also being pushed in a direction.
The white, thick-headed and thin-tailed snakes sped up slowly. 'This… wait!' An alarming thought came to his mind, one that he hoped was false. 'I-I... am a—'
__________________
[A/N: This is a disclaimer as I don't want to mislead. MC will become the Pope at nearly 50% completion of the novel. He will be pretty young at that time compared to other Popes in history.]
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
MisterImmortal
MisterImmortal NOTE FROM AUTHOR -
This novel will have small elements of wish fulfilment, some enemies will be dumb, and some will be Light Yagami level, playing a game a hundred steps ahead. There are conspiracies everywhere, power struggles, and madness.
In this novel, people will die. MC will lose people he cares for. He will get injured. Allies can backstab at any moment for their personal gains. It's a dark world.
But since I am known in the fanfiction scene for writing fluff in my works, expect that as well.
[Discord at https://discord.gg/DgHkrAn]
Chapter 2: 2. New World
'I-I... am a—sperm?'
A moment later, after deeply observing the shapes of other snakes, he was sure that his conjecture was correct…
This was a race, a race of sperms to merge with the ovary! Jonathan could feel an innate need to reach the ova and fuse into an embryo. He willed it and tried to swim closer as quickly as possible. To be born, he needed to reach the goal the quickest! The competition was tough, and a few bigger snakes were already ahead of him.
'I will be the first. I will be reborn!' He exclaimed inwardly. Suddenly, he saw a blinding white light.
'Yes, I'm almost there!' He thought joyfully and quickened his pace.
Johnathan saw the light all around him. He did not know if he was at the front or not, but it didn't matter. The race was still ongoing, and the first one to attack the egg was the winner. However, after a while, he felt confused. 'Where is the egg?!'
"Nyah...Nmmh… Aaah! Nyaaa~"
Loud sounds of moans came, and Johnathan could actually hear them. Soon, he found himself stuck on something along with other snakes.
'What's happening?' Just as he thought this, he heard someone speaking in English.
"Argh... why do I feel regret after wanking? I need to stop watching furry stuff. That Ankha video was a rabbit hole I should have never entered. I gotta find a new hobby in this lockdown. Maybe smut on webnovel? But Gore and Bdsm seem interesting…"
'Huh…?' The realization hit Johnathan, 'NO! I'm just a wasted sna-sperm. Ankha? Lockdown? What happens to me now? Also, BDSM… young man, that's a worse choice… Ah-'
He felt his consciousness shift again. He had become yet another sperm.
...
Defeat, utter defeat. So many races, but he won in none of them. Soon enough, he realized that this wasn't a race of speed; it was a race of luck. But unfortunately, he was just not lucky enough.
Until now, only once was he able to get lucky and meet the egg. Of course, he was not that furry-addict young man's sperm now. No, that degenerate couldn't have found a female.
Suddenly, Jonathan's consciousness shifted again after failing to be born. The woman had consumed possibly some sort of anti-pregnancy item. He just died and cursed his damned fate again.
He never thought this day would 'COME', but... 'I truly sympathize with all you white little snakes out there. Such cutthroat competition that even Asians would cower in fear. So many variables... Truly, the birth of a child is nothing less than a miracle!'
With this, he became depressed as he remembered his own unborn son. The only thing making it different now was that he felt what his son probably felt. Jonathan didn't know that it was because of his complete soul form that he could feel and see things. No other sperm there was like him.
'Will I forever be stuck in this cycle?' he wondered and sighed. Suddenly, he felt hungry.
However, what else was there to eat and consume other than other snakes? So he went after them, trying to assimilate with them. The process, to him, felt instinctual. As the other snakes didn't have a will of their own, he was like a titan in a village of humans, eating them up.
Whoosh!
When he had consumed more than half of them, another race started. 'Ah shit, here we go again!'
He lazily let himself be sucked around. Due to him always eating other snakes, he had turned into one big, chunky boy himself. So it was hard to go fast.
'I need to diet, it seems,' he thought, too accustomed to this new messed-up life. But being an ex-CIA Agent, he knew that when life gives you lemons, you squeeze them into your enemy's eyes and get information. Hence, improvise, adapt, and overcome.
POP!
'What was that sound? Wait... GOD, I finally fuc... Mated with an egg!' He looked around himself. He was in some enclosed sphere. Soon after that, he lost all his consciousness.
When he woke up again, he could feel his limbs, and there was no limit to his joy. 'Does this mean it's about time I head out? Fine, let's start kicking!'
Mustering all his strength, he started kicking, punching, and head-banging to make the woman who held him realize it was time to pop him out. He could hear some muffled voices from outside, but didn't understand the language.
Eventually, he saw the light at the end of the cave. Ah, his misery would soon be over after so many years of being a fat snake.
'WAIT! What if I am a lass? No, no... this can't be…'
He knew some religions had the concept of the soul being genderless. So does this mean that a soul can randomly become a girl and a boy?
He could not feel his small micro pipe for now; there was not an ounce of horny in those cheese balls to wake up the dragon. Only time could tell. Soon, he felt like being pushed out, and the woman was doing all she could as the surrounding walls contracted.
However, some time passed, and Johnathan still found himself in the womb. The woman had gone tired. Something must have happened, he thought. Then the next thing he knew, he was being pulled out forcefully, and at that moment, he realized. 'Ah, I can't breathe. NO!'
He was taken out by force, and the umbilical cord was tied around his neck. It choked him, stopping blood from flowing into the brain. That's how, once again, his attempt failed. The moment he came out, the first and last thing he saw was a woman wearing some sort of medieval midwife clothing. He was panicking, as his face had turned blue.
Then life slowly left his tiny body, for the 2nd time since his first death. He wondered if this was his fate or was this god's hate.
...
An unknown time later, Johnathan was once again a snake. Who knows whose balls he was in this time? Out of all these times, only twice he could mate with the egg, once killed by a pill and then killed by pregnancy complications.
He continued to eat other snakes and let go of all hope of being born again. But, it seems people say it right; thrice is a charm.
Without even trying, he found himself in a womb again. He could hear voices from outside. He didn't understand it, but the woman sounded like she was singing lullabies.
A month passed, and he never kicked or punched the woman. Soon enough, the day came. It would either be his entry to a new life or another demise.
He felt like a slime when the walls contracted, being pushed out. Slowly, air brushed past his nearly bald head, giving him hope that this may be it. Then his head fully popped out, followed by the rest of the body.
Before he knew it, his bloody frame was for all to see. He was overcome with joy and excitement. Nobody had to pat his back; he screamed on his own, "Yes, Yes... I'M OUT!"
The old midwife was about to slap his buttocks to make him cry, but got surprised. The child made weird sounds and seemed cheerful, his voice sounding like nonsensical gibberish cries. She was stunned and quickly wrapped him in a towel. After cleaning him, she handed the big baby boy to the tired woman on the bed.
"Congratulations, Xavia, you have a son. A cheerful and strong one. Have you thought of a name yet?"
Johnathan stopped rejoicing and tried to open his eyes wider to see the woman who held him. Unlike other children, he could clearly see, and his vision wasn't split in two. Jonathan didn't know why and didn't care to curse this blessing.
The woman who held him simply mesmerized him. Saying she was pretty was an understatement. The charm of maturity was visible on her face. She had large charming blue eyes. Her pale reddened face was still sweaty, and strands of dark-red hair fell on her face.
A big smile was plastered on her face, full of uncountable emotions about to spill out. She hugged him and cried in silence. Then, after a while, she calmed herself and pecked on his forehead. "I have a name... it will be Sylvester, Sylvester Maximilian."
"What a wonderful name, Xavia. Ah!… I must go now. Two more women are to give birth in the inner village! Someone will be here to help you after I leave. I have left all the potions and herbs for your healthy recovery; take them on time." The old midwife caressed Xavia's head and left the small wooden house.
All alone, Xavia stared at her baby, who was also staring at her. She kissed his forehead again. "Golden iris? Strange, even your father didn't have this, but you have the same handsome face. My beautiful son."
For Johnathan, nothing she was saying made sense. He didn't understand the language, and all he could do was try to read her expressions. However, he smelled a strangely warm and sweet odour.
His stomach made a growling sound. 'Ah, I'm hungry. But... I don't want to cry.' He tried to speak, "Young lady, where is my food?"
Xavia was amused by the gibberish sounds her son made. But her instincts helped. "I need to feed you."
She lifted her blouse and took out one breast. He felt strange having to go through this. Then the nipple popped into his mouth, and his hunger took over. He drank his mother's milk silently. Being a newborn, his energy was extremely limited, so his eyelids drooped as he sucked.
Johnathan still tried to open his eyes. He could feel her emotions to protect him. It was touching. He let out a soft breath, calming himself down. 'I do not know your name, young lady. Biologically, you're my mother. Mentally, I am an older man. I may not have the innocence that you expected from your child, but I thank you for your hard work. Every drop you feed will be a debt incurred on me, and I will try to pay it back when the time comes.'
He then started yawning. Not long after, the woman also fell asleep as she tucked her little son in her arms. It was cold outside, but they felt warm together.
…
It had been three days since he was born in this strange world. His eyes were wide open, and from the looks of the place he lived in, he could see that the family was poor. However, he had only seen his mother until now. Where was the father?
Jonathan, now Sylvester, looked around. The place only had a bed, a fireplace, and a small sitting area. The clothes, utensils, and furniture told him he was in a less technologically developed world.
The fireplace was constantly burning, making the small hut-like home warm. But, for the past two days, he only saw his mother at the times when she fed him and at night, he guessed it was due to work.
The language was utterly unknown to him, which cleared that this was not Earth. He was so sure because, as a CIA operative, it was essential to know at least what different languages sounded like in his previous life.
He was trying to understand by focusing on whatever his mother said. To understand verbs, nouns and basic grammar. For now, he only knew his name as she called him Max.
The door creaked open, and his mother walked in, looking tired as always. She sighed, but she cheered up when her eyes rested on her son. Then, rushing up to him, she grabbed him in her arms and hugged him tightly. "My Max, you are my only source of warmth in this life!"
Sylvester felt slightly mushy in his tiny body. This woman loved him just for existing, no other strings attached. She reminded him of Diana, of course, differently. Raising his soft plump arms, he patted her face.
"M-mm---" he tried to speak, but his voice box was not fully developed yet. But the speed at which it was growing was astounding.
'Dammit, I can do it.'
He put all his efforts into calling her, "Mmmm... mam... MA-M-A!"
It was as if the sky had fallen. He felt the woman's heartbeat fasten. Then, finally, she released him from the hug and looked at his face, her eyes tearing up, "Did... did... you just call me mama?"
He didn't know what she said, but his hypothesis was correct. 'As always, no matter what language and, in this case, the world. Mama always means mother.'
She hugged him once again, much tighter this time. Sylvester silently rested his head on her chest and fell asleep. He knew he was not like a normal baby at all, but however strong he may be, saying words at such an early age was tiring.
[A/N: I will transition to calling him Sylvester, instead of Johnathan.]
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
MisterImmortal
MisterImmortal
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