Prodigy In Modern Family

Floating in the void. Formless, colorless, and shapeless. No body to feel, no eyes to see, no voice to speak. There is no up or down, no sense of direction—only endless nothingness stretching infinitely in all directions.

Yet, amidst the emptiness, there is thought. Flickering like embers in a dying fire, scattered but persistent. A whisper of awareness, drifting through the abyss. No past, no future—only the fragile realization of existence.

Is this eternity? Has it always been this way? The questions swirl, but there are no answers. Only silence. Only the void.

James Nelson was once a successful scientist. A man of logic, precision, and unrelenting ambition. For 28 years, he had devoted himself entirely to his work, forsaking distractions, ignoring the trivial joys of life. No love, no friendships, no indulgences—only the pursuit of knowledge. His laboratory had been his world, his research his only companion.

But now, all of that was gone. His body, his achievements, even the meaning he once clung to—all had been stripped away. He was nothing but a spirit, drifting in an endless void, weightless and untethered. No walls, no ground, no sky—just infinite nothingness stretching beyond comprehension.

Was this death? A cruel joke of the universe? Or something else entirely?

James had no answers. Only the lingering echoes of his past and the hollow silence of the void.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the void, deep and commanding, yet strangely calm. It carried a weight that defied comprehension, resonating through James' very essence.

"Do you want a new beginning?"

The words seemed to shake the emptiness around him, giving form to something unseen. James, for the first time since finding himself in this endless abyss, felt something akin to clarity.

"God?" he asked, his voice uncertain, though he had no throat to speak with, no ears to hear with. Yet, the question left him, drifting into the void.

A pause. Then, the voice responded, not with irritation, but with an undeniable certainty.

"It is one of my many names. But in the end, I am simply the Creator—the origin of all that has existed, all that exists, and all that will ever be."

The words were neither boastful nor harsh, simply a statement of absolute truth. And for the first time, James felt something other than emptiness. Hope. Or perhaps fear.

James hesitated for a moment before speaking, his thoughts racing.

"Do you mean reincarnation? Going back to Earth, but without any memory of my past life?"

There was another brief silence, as if the void itself was considering his words. Then, the voice returned, steady and unwavering.

"No. It is something else."

James felt a strange pressure, not physical, but something deeper—an unseen force wrapping around him, pulling at the very core of his existence.

"For your good deeds," the voice continued.

James was stunned. Confused. A scientist by nature, he had never thought much about morality in the grand, cosmic sense. He had lived for his work, nothing more.

"Good deeds?" he repeated, the words tasting foreign in his mind. "I dedicated my life to science, not charity. I wasn't a saint, nor a villain. Just a man who worked. What good deeds could possibly warrant something beyond reincarnation?"

Yet, despite his confusion, he couldn't shake the feeling that the voice—the Creator—knew something he didn't.

Then it hit him. A sudden, sharp realization, like a bolt of lightning striking the depths of his mind.

His voice trembled as he spoke, filled with a mixture of hope and desperation.

"Did my research succeed? Did the cure work? Did I… beat cancer?"

The void seemed to pulse in response, as if reality itself acknowledged his words.

For years, James had devoted every waking moment to his research, pushing past exhaustion, sacrificing everything—his health, his personal life, his happiness—all for the singular goal of eradicating one of humanity's greatest afflictions. He had never sought recognition, never cared for wealth or legacy. His only desire was to save lives, to create something that would outlive him, something that mattered.

Had he done it? Had his work made a difference?

The voice, still calm yet carrying the weight of eternity, finally answered.

"Yes, James Nelson. Your research succeeded. Your cure was discovered. Because of you, millions have been saved, and countless more will be in the future."

A silence followed, but this time, it was not empty. It was filled with something James had never truly felt before. A sense of fulfillment.

He had won. He had done something that mattered.

And yet, one question remained.

"Then… why am I here?"

The voice resonated once more, filled with something James couldn't quite define—was it amusement?

"To reward you, I shall transmigrate you into a reality of your choice."

James froze. "Transmigrate? You mean… like in those kids' books? Where the main character gets sent to another world with a system that grants them abilities?"

A brief silence followed before the voice answered, its tone unchanged.

"Yes. Tell me a reality, a manga, a show, a world of fiction—and I shall grant your wish."

James felt something stir within him. A thrill, an excitement he had never known in his previous life. A world of his choosing? A second chance, but this time, with possibilities beyond the limits of science and reason?

He had spent his entire life buried in research, bound by the rules of reality. But now, for the first time, he was free to dream.

A single thought burned in his mind.

"Which world should I choose?"

James hesitated. He had never been one for fiction, never indulged in the countless fantasy worlds that others obsessed over. No superheroes, no magic, no grand adventures. His life had been filled with research papers and laboratory work, not TV screens and comic books.

Yet, there was one exception. One show that had always caught his attention whenever it played in the background—a show he never actively followed but somehow knew well.

"Modern Family," he said, almost instinctively.

The void was silent for a moment, as if even the Creator was taken aback by his choice.

"An unexpected decision," the voice finally responded. "You have no interest in fantasy or power, yet you choose a world of simple joys and family?"

James blinked—or at least, he felt like he did, even though he had no eyes. "I spent my whole life working. I never had a family, never experienced what it was like to just… live. Maybe this time, I want to try that."

There was another pause, then a low hum of approval.

"Very well, James Nelson. You shall be reborn into the world of Modern Family. But tell me—who shall you become?"

James thought for a moment before asking, "Will I have a system?"

The Creator's voice remained calm, yet firm. "As you are not familiar with such things, I will grant you something else—a choice."

With a simple wave of His hand, the void shifted. From the nothingness, three grand doors emerged, each distinct in design.

"Choose between these three doors," the Creator continued. "They will not grant you supernatural abilities or overwhelming power. Instead, they will grant you an innate facility—a natural talent that will ease your path in this new life. But the rest will still be up to you."

James observed the doors carefully:

The Sports Path — A strong, imposing door, decorated with golden trophies and silhouettes of athletes frozen mid-motion. It radiated an aura of energy, as if stepping through it would fill him with endless vitality and an instinct for competition.

The Academic Path — A sleek, modern door lined with books, equations, and scientific diagrams. It exuded an air of intellect and deep understanding, promising a life of knowledge and problem-solving.

The Artistic Path — An intricate, colorful door adorned with musical notes, paintings, and scripts. It felt alive, as if creativity itself pulsed from within, offering a mind attuned to expression and beauty.

James took a deep breath. "So, this is it? My first real choice in this new life?"

The Creator simply replied, "Yes. Choose wisely, James Nelson."

James stood before the three doors, lost in thought. He had always been a man of focus, of purpose. Every action in his past life had been driven by a goal—to achieve, to discover, to succeed. But in the end, what had it brought him? A life devoid of warmth, of joy, of spontaneity.

"I didn't enjoy my life," he admitted to himself. "That's the ugly truth."

He had spent 28 years chasing something, never stopping to appreciate the world around him. And now, given a second chance, he refused to make the same mistake.

For the first time in his existence, he would live a life without knowing what would happen next. No rigid plans, no endless calculations. Just a life to be enjoyed. A life where he could create, express, and feel.

His gaze settled on the Artistic Path.

A door of swirling colors, music, and imagination. It called to him—not with logic, but with something deeper. A longing for something he had never known.

"I choose the artistic life."

The moment the words left his lips, the door glowed, its colors shifting in a mesmerizing dance. The Creator's voice echoed once more, carrying a hint of satisfaction.

"Then step forward, James Nelson. And embrace your new life."

Without hesitation, James reached for the handle and pushed the door open—into the unknown.