A/N: Just to give a heads up for those who've already read the first chapter, I changed the setting of his house. He now lives in the same home but in a large clearing in the middle of the forest. I have been editting some bits here and there, when I spot something as this is just a fun summer project for me. But if something inconsistent pops up, let me know
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Clutching his head, Cyrus jolted upright on the bed and screamed, “Why does my head hurt so much? Great, do I have a fucking head tumor too now!?” Cyrus rolled around on his bed in the fetal position, still clutching his head.
“Nurse Angie, I need your help! There’s something wrong with my head.” Cyrus yelled reaching around to find the nurse call button, only to find nothing. Bright light assaulted Cyrus as he opened his eyes.
Looking around, he realized that the room was completely different from his hospital room. If anything, it looked eerily similar to his bedroom in Fantasy Unlimited. Gazing at the mirror, Cyrus saw something that he didn’t quite understand. Mirroring every move, the person in the mirror looked exactly like his FU character. When Cyrus lifted up his left hand, the mirrored image also lifted up its left hand. When Cyrus slapped himself with that same hand, the image also slapped himself with the same hand.
Cyrus got up grimacing, his cheek still red from slapping himself. He walked over to the full size mirror on the wall and carefully looked himself over. Just like how his character should look, he had wavy golden hair neatly tied up into a ponytail. His face was slim with a slightly delicate appeal, but still gave off a masculine feel. It was as if you didn’t know whether a punch would cause the man to cry or start a fight. He had pointed ears, and a slim figure that concealed any knowledge of the compact muscles that hid underneath his clothes and armor. Looking into his eyes, bright light blue eyes stared back. His eyes no longer dull and lifeless, but sparkled in the sunlight. The very eyes his mom used to dote him on.
Every feature nearly looked the same as he used to in real life. In fact, that was the very case. Except, for the pointed ears and well-toned muscles, Cyrus based his character off of what he used to look like. Of course his race was different. After his first few surgeries, Cyrus felt how weak the human constitution could be and chose a race that was described in the game as one of the longest living humanoid races: Elves. Although it was still a game, Cyrus felt more secure about having a non-human body.
Cyrus’ character was an elf, but because FU was so dedicated to catering different people, they diversified each major race, humanoid or not, as long as you were able to fill all the in-game criteria. He had transformed his character into a High Elf. High Elves were said to have been one of the few original elf subraces, and had high affinity to magic but over time some abandoned their use of magic to learn the way humans fought, earning the ire of the Elf Gods. However, all High Elves were blessed for combat, so they excelled either way, earning them the moniker Blood Elf. Becoming a High Elf allowed a player to keep certain racial perks, but also gave players a choice to choose the path of magic or warrior, an option no other elf subrace allowed. For someone who didn’t care for magic, High Elf was perfect for Cyrus who wanted longevity and to fight with a sword. Through arduous tasks and requirements, Cyrus spent three years playing in order to change his character’s subrace to High Elf becoming one of the few players in the game to do so, and the only one to pick the warrior route.
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Cyrus didn’t understand how he was still in the game. If anything, the game seemed more lifelike than before. He could feel the strength as he flexed different muscles, his flexibility as he stretched: details in the game that were never replicable.
Cyrus telepathically called for his menu but nothing happened. Even calling for a log out didn’t do anything. Cyrus tried repeatedly, but got the same result each time. Unsure of what to do, Cyrus tried to send messages to previous party members and even Game Moderators, but it was all useless. He wasn’t even able to access his menu, which had all of his equipment and money.
“Even my health and experience points are all gone.” Cyrus mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I definitely can’t assume I’m still in the game.”
Cyrus unsheathed his sword, a red shine giving off a very powerful aura. The sword looked similar to a katana, but was less curved, indicative of its use for stabbing as well as slashing. His mind set, he quickly ran the edge across his palm. Blood quickly seeped out from the cut followed by a sharp pain, causing him to drop his sword.
“Well, I at least know it’s not a game anymore. Pain like this could only mean that I was somehow brought into a different world, similar to the game I assume. I wonder if I kept my racial abilities…” Only silence answered the young man as he put pressure on his hands, only to notice that his hand very slowly begin to heal. A racial perk of High Elves included regeneration, although it appeared to be rather slow in reality. Nodding to confirm his thoughts, Cyrus went downstairs and out of the house. Using a cloth he found downstairs, he wiped the blood off of his hand, careful of the cut.
The sun, way up high, lightly beat down on him, but it was neither hot nor cold outside, the air crisp and unpolluted. It felt as if it were spring, the air smelled of blooming flowers and gentle winds shook the trees, causing the shade underneath to dance along. Looking around, he could see the forest that surrounded his home. Cyrus smiled, happy to be able to smell fresh air and listen to all the different birds singing.
Rosea Forest stretched for miles and went on for miles as well. In the game, Rosea Forest formed part of the southern border of Elderon Kingdom, one of the largest kingdoms on the continent. Cyrus chose this decently-sized clearing in the middle of the forest as his home because not many players entered this forest, opting to explore more rewarding dungeons and woodlands. But for Cyrus, this forest was perfect for his solitary life; and all different kinds of herbs and plants grew here aiding in his mastery of the Alchemy Subclass, one his four mastered classes.
“Music?” A barely audible sound of a stringed instrument caught Cyrus’ attention.
The dense forest blocked most of the volume, but it was enough for Cyrus to hear clearly. Cyrus approached the large forest that bordered the clearing and followed the music. As he got closer, the music got worse and tone-deaf singing accompanied the tune. Walking into a smaller clearing about a mile away from his house, he found several raggedly dressed men forming a semi-circle around another man who was relentlessly thrusting into a gagged and tied up girl. The men sang and drank occasionally shouting insults and demands for their share of the girl. Cyrus immediately stopped moving upon the horrid sight. Nothing could take his eyes off of the girl with her lifeless eyes, as if she had given up on the world.
One of the tone-deaf singers noticed Cyrus with a surprised look on his face, “Who the fuck are you?”