Aldric had spent several days in Nesharvad now. The tension that had clung to him for so long had finally started to ease. The constant urgency of survival, the pressure to keep moving, had faded into an uneasy peace. The simple comforts of food, rest, and a bed to sleep in—things he had almost forgotten—allowed him to breathe again. But there was still something missing, something gnawing at him, a hollow space inside that he couldn't fill.

And it all began with the mirror.

For the first time in days, he stood before it, unable to avoid his reflection any longer. The cracked glass distorted his image, but it was real enough to make his heart skip a beat.

The man staring back at him was a stranger. His features were sharp, almost too sharp, like they'd been carved from stone. His skin was unnaturally pale, ghostly even, and his eyes—icy blue, cold as steel—held a history he couldn't recognize, a weight he couldn't place. He reached up, running his fingers through his hair. White. Stark, brilliant white, wild and untamed, cascading past his ears.

[What the hell is happening to me?] He felt the unease in his gut, a deep, gnawing emptiness that refused to be quieted.

[This isn't me. This can't be me.] The thought was bitter, but it felt like a lie he didn't want to admit. He traced the scar on his neck, his fingers trembling as they brushed the rough, unfamiliar skin. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten it. [I don't even remember… anything.]

A hollow laugh bubbled up in his chest. He didn't know if it was from frustration or something darker, but he laughed at himself—at his misery. [Who the hell am I?]

Frustrated, he turned away from the mirror, collapsing onto his cot. The questions swirled in his mind, each one heavier than the last. Who was he? What had happened to him? Everything felt like it was falling apart. But there was no time for answers, not now. He had to keep moving. He had to keep fighting.

He threw himself into his training. It was the only thing that made sense anymore. The weight of the sword in his hand, the sting of the blade against his opponent—it was something he could focus on. Torvin, the veteran, pushed him relentlessly, and although every sparring session left him bruised, battered, and aching, Aldric welcomed the pain. It kept his mind off the emptiness. It kept him grounded.

"You've got potential," Torvin said after a particularly brutal match, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But potential alone won't keep you breathing. Discipline will."

A bitter laugh escaped Aldric's lips. [Discipline. Yeah, right. That'll fix everything.] He wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to ignore the feeling that no matter how much he trained, no matter how much he fought, something inside him was still broken.

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Then, that night around the fire, Calen spoke of something that made Aldric's blood run cold. They were talking in low voices, the crackling fire casting long shadows across their faces. Calen, always eager to share his opinions, leaned forward, eyes glinting with excitement.

"You know," Calen said, "some of the elves around here… they don't just use weapons. They've got real magic. Some can make the earth bend to their will. Others can see things that aren't even there."

Aldric's attention snapped to him. But it wasn't the magic that grabbed him—it was the word otherworlders.

"Otherworlders?" Aldric's voice came out sharper than he intended, an edge of desperation in his tone. "What do you mean?"

Calen glanced around, making sure no one else was paying attention, before lowering his voice even more. "People who aren't from around here. They appear out of nowhere. They've got abilities—things that break the laws of nature. Haven't seen one for a while, though. But the rumor is they're born with powers that defy everything we know."

Aldric's heart began to race. Otherworlders—the word haunted him, gnawing at him. Could that be what he was? Could he be one of them?

He had always felt like an outsider, like there was something… different about him. And now it all made sense. Maybe he wasn't from this world. Maybe he was them.

Calen's voice dropped lower, sharing a secret. "Some say they're part of a bigger plan. But no one knows what it is. Not really."

Aldric didn't speak again. His mind raced, thoughts spinning out of control. He wasn't from here. He was something else, something other. And for the first time, the emptiness inside him felt less like a void and more like a strange kind of understanding.

Later that night, as Aldric lay in his cot, his thoughts refused to quiet. He wanted to uncover the truths—the truths of his origin. Otherworlders. Were they like him? From his planet? He had so many questions without answers. [There is no waiting. I should prepare. Prepare for the war. That way, I can find all the answers.]

Suddenly, the pull—the feeling that something was about to change—was stronger now, deeper. Something inside him stirred, like a calling he couldn't ignore.

And then it came.

Ding!

The sound echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. Aldric froze, his heart pounding. The world around him seemed to blur, and a glowing platform materialized before his eyes. Letters appeared on it, faintly glowing.

[Congratulations on choosing a side in this war. You have unlocked the system. Proceed with caution and use your choices wisely. Rewards and challenges await.]

Aldric's breath caught in his throat. This wasn't just a dream. This was real.

The screen flickered, and more text appeared.

[System Initialized. Current Task: Prove your loyalty to the alliance by completing a scouting mission. Reward: Skill upgrade and additional features unlocked. Failure: System deactivation.]

His pulse quickened. [A task? A mission?] The weight of it hit him all at once. There was no turning back now. He had already made his choice.

Aldric stood, his mind racing. The choice was clear. He had always felt different, always known that he didn't belong in this world. But now—now he had a chance to find answers. He had a mission, a purpose.

A surge of energy coursed through him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Aldric felt something—something real. His pulse steadied, and a new sense of purpose took root within him.

This was just the beginning. The war, the choices, the system—it was all leading somewhere. And for the first time, Aldric felt like he might actually be ready to face it.