Welp. It appears this is how I die. Set-Up, killed and probably buried in an unmarked grave. Almost too good for me when you think about it.

I should probably introduce myself, my name is Keith Manowar and I am a career thief, as well as the world's greatest solo robber! Well, probably not anymore, since I've been caught and all.

Heisting, robbing, and stealing are an art form, and I am a beautiful painter. Due to this, albeit small obsession of mine, I've been calling myself a heist-artist for quite some time. Get it? It's like a con-artist but for theft. Anyway back to the dying part.

This was both the riskiest, as well as the most profitable job I've ever been offered. The gig was simple, go into some rich douche's private mansion, take some weird-looking stone worth apparently millions, turn it in, and then retire as one of the richest twenty-three-year-olds in history! Ahhh, if only I'd been able to feel the murderous intent in that bald bastard's smile.

Anyhow, at this point, I'm in the middle of this rich idiot's secret basement, the strange stone in my arms, and suddenly, all the lights come on and I'm surrounded by people in black!

"Easy does it, Keith." A familiar voice says calmly.

Walking out from behind one of the men in black, was a small man, only reaching about 5'4", with pure gray hair, interlaced by strips of black.

"Take it easy now, Keith." The short-stack said. "I know the guy who set you up to this, we've had it worked out from the beginning, you come in expecting an easy job, I keep my stone, he gets rid of you and I pay him the difference. Easy right?" The man said with a confident grin.

"One problem here short-stack" I replied, pulling down my mask to breathe better. "You want your stone, right? Isn't it some ancient artifact you collected?"

"I'll just take it off your corpse, easy as can be." The zebra-haired man said, pulling out a Colt 1911.

"And what if I do this?" I said as I fake spiked the stone.

"Don't you dare! That is a priceless artifact!" The now angrier short man said.

"So it's priceless huh? Then let me walk or this precious stone becomes precious dust and fragments." I said and I began sauntering towards the man.

However, as soon as I got within 10ft of the man, I felt a strange warm sensation run down my leg. Looking down, I could see a bullet hole.

"Fuck! What the hell did you shoot me for?!" I yelled towards the short man.

"Take one more step and everyone fires!" He yelled, gesturing towards his men, as they each pulled out a different gun.

"Well if I die today, so does your stupid fucking rock!" I yelled as I heard a hail of gunfire around me.

As I spiked the stone towards the ground, I heard a shriek come from the now pale short man, as an immeasurable pain overcame my body, all of which stemmed from the bullets currently lodging themselves within me. On the bright side, the stone was now in fragments, and as the occasional bullet missed or passed through me, some eventually hit the stone, making the fragments almost entirely unrepairable.

As an unbearable amount of pain washed over me, my body began to feel cold. Is this what death feels like? As the hail of gunfire stopped, I was able to catch a glimpse of the face of that smug prick, now completely devoid of color. At least I was able to wipe that look off his face. Heh, I'm pretty cold at this point.

I really am gonna die like this huh. What a way to go. I mean, it's not like my life has been much outside of this. Until about the age of nine, I was tossed from orphanage to orphanage, eventually being picked up by a man named Sarguet, after the impoverished orphanage I was in ran out of funds and I became a street rat. From there I got taught how to steal, "small hands make great sticky fingers" he'd always say. After discovering I had a knack for it, I basically became Sarguet's hands until he died. From about the age of sixteen, I went solo and lived off the profits and seller connections from Sarguet, getting contracts and buying agreements from old business partners. Of course, if I didn't like them I'd step on their toes a bit. Only a little, overcharging, taking a bit extra than they asked and keeping it, etc. The bald man I was dealing with for this contract I'd stepped on twice, after this last one I was planning on skipping town with the loot and living off it for years. Too bad, I could finally live a semi-peaceful life.

A different thought, however, how am I still alive and kicking? I've been full of lead for like thirty seconds, shouldn't I have died by now?

Suddenly, it feels as if in a sauna. I feel extremely warm all of the sudden, and the pain is gone? As I try to get up, I'm able to stand just fine?

Looking all around, all I could see is a white nothingness. Is this heaven?

"No, not quite little one." A warm voice spoke.

Jolting my head right, a large luminescent figure could be seen, staring right at me.

"Hello young one, I must thank you. Although unorthodox, you did free a bit of my power from that horrible stone prison. As a reward, I'll grant your one true desire. I'll allow you to be reborn." The large figure said calmly.

"Wait, reborn? Can I choose where or how? Cause I don't want to go back to Earth." Keith said nervously.

"Well, usually I decide where souls go upon reincarnation, but as a reward for freeing a bit of me, I'll allow it. Not too specific, but a choice is a choice. Now speak. What is it you desire?" The voice asked, obviously slightly annoyed.

"A world with magic and fantasy? I've lived in a modern hell hole for too long, gimme something new this time around. Oh! And can I keep my memories? I don't want to forget old man Sarguet."

"It will be done, now goodbye. May your new life be more prosperous than your old." The motherly voice said.

Suddenly, it felt as if my whole body was being compressed, as I blinked and it appeared as if my head was surrounded by think cloth. Taking my head out of said cloth, it was easy to see it was a curtain, and looking down, I was a baby.