I don’t want to live anymore—but death keeps rejecting me. Every bullet stalls mid-air, every fall slows before impact, every flame parts around my skin like it’s afraid. The doctors say I’m broken. The government says I’m a weapon. The cult on the rooftops says I’m the Harbinger of End Times. Maybe they’re all right. But when the pain becomes too much, and I finally find a way to die… what happens if I succeed?