1 The Death of Hero
The worth of a man was determined not by his bank account, but the legacy they leave behind when they die.
-The words of some wise man somewhere.
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The following is a mix of news reports from 20xx Mexico and has been translated from Spanish:
Today we mourn the loss of a great hero.
At **** today in *** village, Jaguar Platina met his end.
A famed luchador that followed in the footsteps of Demonio Azul, El Santo and Mil Máscaras, Jaguar Platina was as much as a hero in day to day life as he was in the ring and the silver screen.
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At twelve o'clock today, a village on the outskirts of **** was found to have been razed to the ground.
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Not much is known about the famed luchador's past, but what is known is that he is the successor of another luchador who went by the name of Águila Dorada.
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No civilian casualties have been reported, however, the entirety of the Silver Rose Cartel and the Black Mantis Cartel have been found slaughtered at the scene of the destruction, scattered amongst piles of rubble and destroyed vehicles.
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A career luchador with three World Championships belts and five award winning movies, Jaguar Platina was one of the biggest names in modern luchador history. However, he didn't let the fame and wealth get to his head.
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The leaders of the cartels, Don $-#(&-$- and Donna $($+&+#(, who are wanted by both Interpol, the state and the CIA, were also found dead on the scene.
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Jaguar Platina was an advocate for cancer research and treatment, an advocate for the welfare of orphans everywhere and the founder of the Jaguar Foundation, whose mission is to advocate comprehensive education reform all over the world.
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The Silver Rose and Black Mantis cartels were responsible for over eighty percent of the illegal narcotics trade and weapons trade throughout the American territories. But with the death of their respective leaders and lieutenants, the future of these organization are unlikely.
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While the coroner's report has yet to have been made official, social media footage reports that Jaguar Platina died in a manner that most people would assume be scripted out of a movie.
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The cause of death for both of these criminals was a case of asphyxiation followed by post-mortem spinal cord severance...
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On this day, Jaguar Platina died fighting over one hundred armed men and women, three military Jeeps, two helicopters and a tank.
His body was found to be still standing over a pile of broken bodies, his arms firmly locked around the broken necks of two infamous cartel leaders and his trademark Jaguar Platina mask, still affixed to his proud face.
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"Well, well, well Senior Platina! You sure as hell went out in a manner befitting a living legend such as yourself. A modern day Benkei as it were! Ah...maybe someone closer to home would be better...hmmm"
In a strange void that was somewhere between the worlds of the living and the lands of the dead, a rather peculiar meeting was taking place.
At a white metal table that would look more at home in a Victorian era garden then a interdimensional meeting, two rather striking individuals were having a a rather strange conversation over a pot of tea.
"And not just your death record, but the way you lived was truly immaculate!"
On one of the table was a...humanoid... flipping through an extensive looking manilla file folder.
This humanoid was hard to describe with any concrete terms, because the being seemed to shift in how they looked every couple of seconds.
One moment, they appeared to be a comely lass in a fine business shit made of silk. The next, they appeared to look like a hobo with a eyes that seemed to have witness everything from the start of the world to its preventable end. If one were to describe this fellow, the closest word anyone could use would be...divine.
"Gracias, mi dios amigo."
"Oh please, no need to call me 'dios'. After all, I may not be watching over you for much longer anyways."
"Lo siento."
On other end of the table, was a large, muscular man, with a physique that most men could only dream of acquiring, wearing...not much, except for two things.
The first, was a sturdy looking pair of pants made with a platinum colored fabric. There weren't much to them in terms of decals or designs, but it was clear that they had been worn, maintained and used over a number of years.
The second, and most notable piece of clothing, was a full face mask made of a similar platinum colored fabric.
The mask, at an initial glance, appeared to be incredibly simple. No visible designs or decorations could be seen in regards to the mask, but if one were to take a closer look, like say...in the ring, they would see that this mask was anything but.
At certain angles, the visage of a snarling jaguar could be seen stitched into the mask's designs, done in patterns similar to that of old Aztec hieroglyphics. At another, one would get the impression that they were staring into the maw of this same vicious beast, only to be greeted by a pair of piercing jade green eyes.
A mask that was both humble yet larger than life, a fitting symbol for a warrior such as Jaguar Platina.
As for what these two mismatched figured were discussing, simply put, it was about the former's life.
"An orphan turned gang banger turned apprentice turned folk hero turned legend...I say that should be a movie, but from what I hear, your life is being made into a movie as we speak."
"Really? I wouldn't say my life was all that interesting."
"Hah! Humble to the very end and beyond! I like that," the divine being laughed as their form briefly shifted into that of a clown. "But alas, I feel that it's a rather cruel joke for you to have died."
"At the hands of a pair of cartels?"
"In general!," the divine being clarified. "Heavens beyond know that the world needs more paragons of charity such as yourself and less narcissistic assholes who seem to only care about an arbitrary value placed next to their name!," they proclaimed while their face shifted between several figures that Jaguar recognized as being VIP guests to some of his matches. "But alas, the good die young. Just when you were about become a grandfather too."
"That is simply the nature of life, is it not?," Jaguar Platina asked. "Death is a random, and the only thing we can do for the dead, is to remember their stories."
"Correction: Only mortals can remember the story of the dead. As a divine, I can do things a little...differently."
"Does that difference involve the reason why I haven't moved on yet?"
"An astute observation!"
With a snap of her fingers, the everchanging divine dismissed the table with the pot of tea.
Now that there was no to sit and chat, the divine being and Jaguar Platina were left to float in the strange void between worlds.
"Let me be frank with you," the divine being said while turning into a guy who looked like his name would be Frank, "the other gods and I want to give you another round the bend."
"Que?"
"A new life, mi amigo, a new life!," the divine said while flitting between the forms of a flower, a fish and a bird. "I believe some of the pantheons would call this reincarnation, but for your case...it's a little different."
"Different, how?"
"Well..."
The divine being trailed off their words on purpose as they transformed themselves into a giant television screen that began to play a small cartoon depicting someone dying and then reincarnating into multiple different ways.
"You unfortunately died on this world, meaning we can't give you another go here without wiping your memories and putting you into a newborn body. So instead, we'll be sending your soul to another world."
The cartoon then proceeded to change to show a soul being sent to an entirely different world, with a bunch of different results.
"The world you're being sent to will be a bit...different from what you know now. I won't bore you with the details, but when you get there you will have a choice between three different ways for you to get back on the mortal plane: reincarnation plus, transmigration or soul attachment. It would've been four but since your original body has more holes in it than your average block of swiss cheese, we can only do three."
"That...makes sense but also sounds a little messed up," Jaguar Platina retorted with a tinge of sarcastic cynicism.
"To be fair, not a lot can repair forty-four bullet holes, thirty two broken bones, fifteen machete slashes, lungs full of Agent Orange and the self-destruction of one's own muscles while shattering the spines of two fully grown humans," the divine being said while turning back from a giant television screen.
"Now, would you like to hear more about your options or nah?"
