From the depths of his slumber, Kaine felt the gentle caress of his cheek and smelt the familiar scent of rosemary and mint. It was Mariam… her presence often carried the fragrance of herbs, a testament to her loving care of the garden.
WHOOH.
Kaine felt his consciousness ignite like a candlewick. When his eyes fluttered open, he found himself sprawled on the surface of a serene, crystal-clear pond. Below, the aquatic life remained motionless, as if caught in a state of suspended animation.
But Kaine’s observation of this was unexpectedly brief; what truly captivated his attention was the enchanting woman kneeling beside him. She wore a warm smile, her touch as soft as velvet, and her appearance was youthful.
“…Mariam?” Kaine whispered the name in disbelief, his trembling fingers reaching for the woman’s snow-white skin. “Sweet pea… is it really you?”
His hand stilled when he realized his own skin was no longer loose and wrinkled. “…Is this real?” he muttered, eyes wide. “Did I get done in by that monster in the end?”
Mariam shook her head with a smile, extending a hand to help him to his feet. The moment he stood up, Kaine pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in her curly hair, her small body molding perfectly into his own.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’ve missed you more,” she whispered back.
As she pulled away and began guiding him toward a nearby garden, Kaine took a moment to survey their surroundings. The mist-laden world enveloped them in swirling fog that extended to the ceiling. It was an awe-inspiring and enigmatic spectacle that reminded Kaine of the profound, seemingly insignificant nature of his own life.
“I really did die, didn’t I?” he murmured softly as he approached his wife, who knelt before a small garden nestled among the trees. “Could this be… heaven?”
Mariam offered a wan smile and shook her head, her fingers brushing the leaf of a basil plant. “This isn’t heaven…”
Kaine arched an eyebrow in question. “Then—”
“Honey, it’s still far too early for you to be here…”
“No,” he asserted, his eyes wide as he spun her around and pulled her into the hard wall of his chest. “I can’t… I can’t lose you again!”
“Kaine… you mean more to me than our farm and the tranquilids,” whispered Mariam, her arms gently embracing him. “If you really want to make me happy, put your health and safety first.”
Kaine’s eyes quivered as she pulled away and reached out to gently caress his cheek, her youthful appearance now replaced by her actual age. Reflected in her own eyes, he could also see the regression of his own youth.
Nevertheless, his wife’s warm smile remained a beacon of radiance. “If you want to preserve my memory,” she spoke gently, “then live on, and cherish the love and happiness we shared.”
Before Kaine could utter a word, he felt his wife and the surreal world around them swiftly slipping away, leaving him engulfed in pitch-black darkness. Suddenly, he was falling, a roar escaping his throat as he flailed. In the next instant, he jolted upright, finding himself back in the comforting familiarity of his bed.
Kaine looked around frantically, but Mariam and the mysterious realm had vanished from sight. Without a word, he stared down at his trembling hands, now devoid of the woman who had felt more than just a dream, and hugged himself tightly.
Mariam…
As he took a moment to secure the dark threads unraveling around his broken heart, Kaine envisioned his wife’s loving face. He imagined her frowning and gently chiding him for sulking.
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She had urged him to prioritize his own livelihood over the farm. Somehow, he knew she would be much happier if he honored her wishes by sharing what they had created with others. And that’s exactly what he would strive to do.
“That cheeky brat,” he murmured when he returned to the tranquilid enclosure and noticed Daisuke was gone. “He didn’t even give me a chance to thank him.”
***
A gloved figure sat around a crude wooden desk, the light from a mana lamp barely reaching the delicate features of his face. With a neat smile, he rested his cheek in his palm, his free hand skipping through the pages of a small dairy.
Averting his sharp gaze, he peered across the dark room toward a metallic cage. Inside were imprisoned several children. They were huddled together, battered and bruised from seemingly endless instances of torture and abuse.
Their grumbling bellies and ashen faces were evidently amusing to the man, but their suffering couldn’t compare to the misfortune he was eager to unleash upon a particular individual.
***
A small town stood eerily quiet in West Virginia. It was once a thriving community—now it lies barren, with seemingly no hope of revival. Crumbling buildings lined the streets, heavy with grime and neglect. The air reeked of lost jobs and fading hope, with misery seeping from the low-rent apartments.
Inside one of the dingy, poorly maintained units, a morbidly obese man sat hunched over a computer desk that groaned under the weight of empty soda cans and crumpled snack wrappers.
The room was oppressively hot, the flickering light from a rundown window fan barely stirring the stale air. The man-child, clad in a flimsy tank top and a pair of stained, threadbare briefs, was oblivious to the sweat that trickled down his bloated body. His scruffy beard, matted and unkempt, clung to his double chin, framing a face that was etched with a permanent scowl.
With a grunt, he reached for a greasy bag of potato chips, stuffing a handful into his mouth. Crumbs cascaded onto his large belly, which strained against the confines of his underwear. His pudgy fingers, slick with oil and salt, fumbled with the mouse as he navigated through Sehreneti Online’s community boards.
His eyes narrowed as he scoured the threads, searching for any topic that challenged his narrow-minded views. Finally, he stumbled upon a post that won his undivided attention. It was a crude screenshot of a silver-haired boy with butterscotch eyes and a condescending flair. Beneath the image was an interesting description by the author:
[King_Osten: Bro, I literally just got ambushed and killed by this bastard called Haxks! He’s a filthy scammer with no sense of sportsmanship! He’s even threatened to spawn-kill me and my friends. He’s a lowlife that deserves to experience a hundred times the misery he’s made me feel. I’m just an honest guy trying to enjoy SO, but it’s PKers like him who sullies the integrity of the game!]
After angrily downing an entire can of soda and then chucking it aside, the man-child pulled closer to his monitor, more interested in the contents of the comment section rather than the post itself.
[Bald_Crusader: Dem PK bastards! 😡🤬
Kentucky-Fried-Fish: Mmm… sounds like low-key gaslighting to me 🤔
SoggyWonton: Where was he last seen? You wanna tag team the sh!t out of him?
Shane2024: I swear, all PKers should get banned!
Hayday101: Well I prefer PKers than bots any day!
Pinapple_Pizza: Wait a minute. Is it just me, or is this Haxks guy still rocking level one gear? You sure he's the one who took you down?
South-Flame: This retard seriously allowed himself to get canceled by a noob and then posted about it? What a moron! 🤣😂🤣
Mighty_Saiyajin: Brah 😑
SugerRUSH: Dude’s rallying the troops for his revenge 💩🙃
MemeGod: I’m game. Let’s go and tear this sucker a new one!
GottaCatchEmAll: Sounds like fun! Count me in!]
“So his name’s Haxks, huh?” scoffed the man-child with a heavy lisp tongue. “I’ve been scouring both the game and the internet for you, dirtbag!”
Aggressively, he reached for his grimy keyboard after navigating to his Disc0rd server that was titled “Men of Culture”, and began typing a message in the announcements channel:
[Found him😈]
***
Glistening droplets of sweat slowly trickled down large biceps and hard abs. Impressive muscles rippled beneath smooth jungle green skin as a familiar Honeywasp Orc performed a series of crouching exercises, its massive bulge shifting in its furred loincloth with every movement.
“Din-ki-doo! Din-ki-doo! Din-ki-doo!”
The heated words escaped the creature’s thick lips in a hoarse chant as it continued its daily regime, steam shooting from its flaring nostrils. It had been humbled by the human it absolutely adored and almost killed by another who wasn’t nearly as attractive.
In order to stay alive and protect its silver-haired soul mate, it needed to become stronger, faster, and more flexible and agile than anyone else.
With a deep grunt, the creature removed its massive hands from its head and dropped them to the ground as it transitioned into the posture for push-ups. Its ivory tusk reflected the sunlight and its accessories flickered and chimed as its large frame moved up and down in an effort to craft a physique that would please his idol.