The icy wind blew her ginger hair into her face. Many snowflakes got caught on them, soon creating a small layer. Relentless element constantly changed direction, seemingly to perplex her. However, she walked those streets for years and knew where the destination lay.
Constant snowing considerably decreased visibility. So much so that she barely saw the closest houses. They all had had one similarity. There was no light inside. The evening didn’t advance enough for everyone to sleep. They were just empty.
The wind finally decided on a single direction and started blowing all the snow into her face. The cold soldiers of winter gave their lives just to pinch her exposed cheeks and nose. She raised her free hand for defense and stubbornly continued forward. It wasn’t far.
It took her a few more minutes of fighting a powerful element to reach her destination. She arrived at an old crumbling house. Compared to others, this one didn’t have anyone to take care of it. Glass of most windows was long broken and replaced by planks of wood. Similar wood was stacked to the half broken door and part of the roof.
She pushed apart two thick planks riveted by a single nail to the upper part of the door and revealed the hole. She crawled on all three inside, while pushing a hand to her chest. She was careful to not get injured by splinters and sticking pieces from broken wood. It wasn’t her first visit, so she knew how problematic even a minor wound could be. She would rather not come there, but the freezing temperature didn’t give her much choice. Hopefully, the weather gets better after a couple of days. A short sigh escaped her as she went inside.
Darkness greeted her, with only slight resistance from the light coming through gaps between planks. She ended up in a long hall she knew stopped at stairs. Old dusty wood squealed under her snow-covered shoes. They had their best years behind them already, letting her feet getting wet at places. She cleaned them before moving forward with one hand touching the wall, stopping only after she has found the second door. When she pushed them open, she was surprised it didn’t squeal. Quite the change from her last visit. Someone got his hands on a bit of oil.
She walked into the livingroom. Fire crackled in the fireplace, giving the room without furniture some light and much needed warmth. Many people sat around, the closest being the current unofficial owners. The family occupied the house several years ago. They let anyone stay in as long as they didn’t bother them and followed the basic rules.
Upon entering, only a handful acknowledged her presence. Probably because of the sudden coldness from the hall. She nodded to them and they nodded back. There was a slight alcohol scent in the room’s still air. The smell mainly originated from the person sitting at the side, back against the wall. Alone, he was drinking from a half empty bottle.
Without looking at him, she registered everything in her peripheral vision. Everyone drank alcohol. It was the best way to keep yourself from freezing in the winter. But only in moderation to avoid getting drunk. Something that person clearly didn’t care about. It was just a matter of time before he will create a problem. She pressed her chest a little harder.
Person she exchanged nods with stood up and got to the one sitting closest to the fire and whispered something to him. The man looked back at her, and they exchanged another nod. Informing the house’s master of your arrival was both proper manners and one of the rules.
She left the warm room, not forgetting to close the door. She didn’t feel comfortable with so many people and would rather deal with the cold. Again, darkness embraced her, and she had to orient herself by touch. She went to stairs. There were several holes or completely missing steps. She had to carefully touch each stair, making sure it was safe. The broken parts contained many splinters even more than the entrance, that could easily stab her unprotected fingers. Many times, she felt sharp and pointy parts of wood, usually where the hole started.
She slowly climbed up to the first floor. The holes in the roof allowed a bit of light and snow to slip in. No wind, thankfully. She walked around white piles that helped to illuminate the hall to a certain room. Thankfully, no one was inside. She stepped over the small hole in floor and went to the wall. A bit of warm air came into the room through because it was placed right above the livingroom. Tho not enough to serve as a good replacement. Especially when outside was so cold.
The room was empty. Everything that had any value was sold, and the rest was turned into fuel. Most of the first-floor windows kept its glass, so the room was decently lit. She could even see many webs in the corners with its eight-legged little monster creators. She always hated spiders, but she didn’t have the luxury to let the fear control her.
She sat with her back against the wall. Floor was dirty but not much compared to other rooms. Tho any dirt would be hardly visible on her super dirty pants. Or her coat. It’s once upon a time green color was now solid brown. It was better that way. Nice colors brought interest and aroused envy. And attention was the last thing she wanted.
She finally relaxed and pulled out her treasure from under her clothes. It was an old laptop. It was the main reason she wanted to be alone. Being homeless for years, she realized that possessing something like that attracts more attention and greed than a nice coat. Regardless of it being an old model with several problems. If you knew the right people, you could sell it for more than you would earn in weeks of begging. Especially nowadays with increasing number of people without home.
She opened the laptop, and the screen came to life. A picture of an empty bird nest greeted her. Tho it wasn’t so empty if you counted many files placed inside. Most of them contained different subjects regarding the beloved world she has built. From history and places, many races and cultures to creatures, powers and System. Lastly, there was one file in the middle with a little space around it so it would stand out. It contained her story. The tale she started writing when she was fourteen. She worked on it every single day, especially when she faced despair of reality. It was her small haven that helped her withstand all the misfortune.
In that file, she had three more. She split the story based on where was her protagonist. Her world named Aurunia was split into three layers. One could imagine them like floors. The higher the floor, the more powerful the creatures living inside. She opened the second file and scrolled to the bottom. Her story in this layer was ending. She had planned four more chapters including epilogue.
She opened the document and smiled. Time to write.
…
Darkness descended from the blue sky. It sharply touched the ground of a ruined temple where it formed into the shape of a person. Yellow eyes of a predator immediately fixed on a magnificent statue. Its enormous wings cast shadow on ten rows of broken benches. Its beak was proudly raised and hands were stretched. In both, the statue offered books.
Despite temples destruction, the statue remained without a single scratch on its perfect surface. After all, artifacts holding divine power were very hard to destroy. Something that people responsible for the current state of the temple clearly knew and didn’t bother with.
Zirilion’s eyes were drilling holes into a falcon like face of god. He summoned his crimson dagger from spatial storage and started walking. His steps were quiet. Not even the dust was unsettled by his feet. Zirilion activated his skills, and the dagger took on a darker shade. Then he stopped.
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Something changed. The quiet atmosphere of the destroyed place suddenly felt different. Zirilion looked around, his senses heightened, boosted by another skill. The whole place was deserted. No monsters, no people, nothing alive except him. And yet there was that change. It so annoyingly tickled his mind until old memories surfaced and his look returned to the statue.
“You are standing on the wrong side Zirilion,” sad flat voice. It came from all sides, but Zirilion knew that its origin was a statue.
Instead of answering, he activated another boosting skill and jumped toward it. Knife pointed at falcon like head. He didn’t get far. Suddenly, a pressure hit him and he fell like a rock to the ground, unable to move. Zirilion activated several more skills and became incorporeal, but it was for naught. The pressure still pushed his body to the floor. It even intensified.
Zirilion felt his bones crack. His veins bursted soaking his leather armor in blood. The pain was overwhelming, tearing his mind apart. Yet he didn’t scream. His own beak was tightly shut, eyes full of stubborn defiance. Bit by bit he managed to turn his head and look at statue’s feet.
Suddenly, light arose from Zirilion’s body. Its warm touch mend bones and skin alike. The pain vanished like a bad dream. But that wasn’t all. The light wrapped itself around Zirilion’s body like a bandage and took all the pressure off of him.
What are you doing, Rizi? Stop. You can’t handle it!
Just attack! He heard her scream. For the first time was her voice full of resolve matching his own. Zirilion felt a strange emotion. It was always him at the front, taking all the hardships and pain. So now, when their roles were reversed, he didn’t know how to react.
Just go smiled Rizilion. Destroy that stupid statue.
Zirilion got up. He had little time. The pressure grew even stronger, and the bandages started to crack. He griped the handle of the dagger harder and again applied his skills. This time, however, he poured in everything. Every drop of mana was consumed, and the aura around the blade intensified.
Zirilion jumped. The pressure instantly increased tenfold, but it was too late. Before his light armor fell apart, he stabbed the neck of a godly statue. The dagger easily pierced the blessed stone, only stopped by the handle. Yet the power of skills continued deeper inside, ravaging everything.
Zirilion’s body was immediately thrown away, into the only standing pillar which crumbled. Heavy stone fell on him, creating fresh injuries. Rizi was unconscious from exhaustion and Zirilion was close to falling himself.
“Foolish children.”
Despite the pain, Zirilion smiled when he heard a tiny bit of anger seeping into the god’s voice. Things were even better when he noticed small cracks appearing all over the statue. Once god left, it will crumble like that pillar.
“Your actions are meaningless. Destroying this poor statue won’t give you anything.” Despite god’s voice being flat again, Zirilion continued smiling.
“Now listen. Pantheon
…
The light of the monitor turned off. Poor notebook had always a weak battery, which only got worse as time went on. Now it could live only for about four hours. As if it wasn’t bad enough, it got progressively harder to find a place for charging. Many times, she had to sneak into someone’s house. Thankfully, she had not been arrested, despite being found out several times.
She wanted to close laptop and hide it back under her clothes when she notices something strange. There were words on her display.
Greetings venerable creator.
White shining sentence on a dead screen. She even pressed the on/off button to be sure. The laptop was certainly without a juice.
So what am I seeing?
Just as she thought that, the new shining words had arisen from the darkness of her screen.
There is little time, so please listen. I’m an entity without a name. I was assigned as guardian of your story, but unfortunately I failed. The creatures came through and now they are trying to destroy the fate you created. I would have never asked this of you if there was another option. Please help me. Help your world. Only you can do it.
Eeeee.
She stared at the screen. Gears in her head were spinning but without actually processing anything. The message was just bizarre. Too bizarre to take seriously. She laughed a little and proceeded to close her laptop again.
I must be seriously tired to see hallucinations. Or maybe I’m ill. High fever could explain this.
Please! This is no dream. Everything is at stake! You must come over.
“No!” she finally screamed.
“This is bullshit! There is no way something like this would happen to me? You are just a delusion! I’m fucking mentally ill!”
She shut the screen down to not read the next glowing words. Her eyes were wide, and she breathed as if she just run a few laps around the house. Her palms continued to push the screen down as if afraid it would open by itself.
“I’m crazy. Absolute lunatic.”
Her heart was beating fast and blood rushed into her cheeks. She clenched her fists.
“There is no way.”
She shook her head and denied what she saw. Yet the corners of her mouth were slowly rising. She breathed deeply, trying to slow her racing heart.
“I feel so stupid.”
In the end, she relaxed her hands and opened the laptop again. But what she saw froze her to the core. The screen was cracked. The massive fracture stretched from top to the bottom, with many smaller ones spreading to the sides.
My time is running out. Please, I’m begging you Creator! You must come here! You must save everything!
The words were barely readable, and the cracks kept growing before her very eyes. When she touched them, she could feel the power accumulating behind them. It won’t be long before the screen explodes.
Different emotions alternated on her face. From shock to despair to anger to resolution. But there was no time. Cracks were still growing and soon she won’t be able to read messages from the supposed guardian.
“What should I do?”
You have to go into Tutorial. I will connect you.
The glowing words disappeared as a blue color replaced the blackness. New sentences were unfortunately unreadable. Except the last one.
Do you accept?
However, before she could answer, the door to her room slammed open. She almost jumped in surprise.
“I new t was yu,” said the drunk man.
It was the same person she saw on the ground floor hours ago. He was still holding the same bottle, tho most of its content was gone. He smiled and said something about celebrating before he gulped down the rest. Then threw the bottle aside. It collided with the wall and fell to the ground, still in one piece.
She had no idea how he managed to climb the stairs in that state. Several scratches on his face and blood on hands showed there was a story. Not that she cared. She leapt to her feet and retreated to the window, just as he entered.
“Yo’re taht bich… with the… thing,” he pointed at her laptop. His slurred speech almost prevented her from understanding him.
“Why would y ned it? Haaa? Why would y ned it?”
He was wobbling closer, somehow not forgetting to step over the hole, but she didn’t have time for him. Cracks finally reached the sides of her screen. Now she couldn’t even read the last sentence. But she knew what to do. She just had to accept the invitation.
“I accept!”
Her resolute and steady voice surprised even herself not talking about the drunk man who stopped. Both of them looked at each other. Only the wind colliding with the old window disrupted the silence.
She glanced down, but cracks were now covering the whole screen. In the larger pieces, she could discern that the message changed, but couldn’t read anything.
“Haha! Goood. Y are gooood grl.”
Drunkard came closer and reached for her laptop. The stench of alcohol that followed him everywhere was the least of her problems. She hugged the laptop and dodged his hands. She tried to escape around him, but he was too close. He caught her arm with surprising strength.
“Hey! Give me my thing!”
This time she couldn’t dodge and the man grabbed the corner of the screen. He wanted to pull it out of her hands when suddenly he screamed. It was deafening and brought chills to her back. She never heard anyone scream like that. Soon she saw the reason.
Man retreated a few steps while holding his hand. Four of his fingers were just gone. She fought the urge to vomit. She didn’t have time for that. Now there were four small holes in her screen. She had to push it away from her chest because the energy that spilled outside was burning her clothes.
She desperately looked at the crumbling screen. Time was almost up. Yet she still didn’t know what to do? She had to get into Tutorial!
Wait! Tutorial? Of course! I’m going into Tutorial so I need a class!
She didn’t need to think. As the author of the story, she has chosen her starting class a long time ago.
“Mystic Fighter!”
Just as she said that, the screen fully broke, and everything fell into darkness.