Ignoring the gazes of his neighbors, Aaron walked up to the small home that had his name on the mailbox. Well, rather than calling it a home, the word ‘shack’ was a better description of the single-room building sloppily constructed from wood atop a small cement foundation. It was a bit smaller than most trailer homes back on his original Earth.

Walking up to the door, he waved his AR-CO over the lock, and it clicked open.

“Phew. Good thing it worked,” He mumbled to himself while pushing the door open.

Once inside the house, the pent up nervousness from sitting under Garret’s mana pressure finally got to him. He sprinted over to the sink and spewed chunks into the drain. He stood there for a good five minutes before gathering his bearings again.

"Man, I didn't expect a backlash like that from resisting his mana. Gonna have to learn how to use mine to prevent that in the future… if I have any."

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he turned around and looked around the shack. Almost immediately, he raised a brow. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t much in terms of furniture, but everything was clean and neatly organized. Even the tiny kitchen nearby was spotless aside from a thin layer of dust.

As he walked around the small shack, he couldn’t help but feel some respect toward the version of himself who had been living here until the accident. Despite the destitute living conditions, the few furnishings were well-maintained. In particular, he noticed some weights that had been used enough to shave away lettering on the barbells and the metal bumps on the handles. There were only a few dumbbells and barbells, but each of them was polished and organized with meticulous care.

Nodding, Aaron walked over to the window and looked at the tiny lawn bordered by tall wooden fencing. There wasn't much room to train out there, but the privacy level satisfied his needs for the time being. Moving away from the window, he walked over to a small area blocked off by a sheet hanging from the ceiling. Beyond it was a makeshift bedroom. Even this partitioned-off sleeping area was spotless despite being out of view. Within that area, he found a thin mattress no bigger than a futon sitting on a homemade wooden bed frame. Next to that was a simple three-drawer dresser.

Stopping at the dresser, his eyes landed on a picture frame covered in dust. Within the picture, he saw a far younger version of himself, perhaps five or six years old, sitting on the shoulders of a young man who looked less than thirty years old. The man looked rugged and reserved thanks to his tanned skin, short and messy black hair, calm black eyes, and gentle smile. Next to the man was a woman around the same age with similarly black hair holding his arm and smiling widely enough to make her dark brown eyes squint. Just a picture of her gave the impression of a bright and cheery person with an outgoing personality.

The longer he studied the photo, the more his brows wrinkled. Aside from hair color, he didn’t see any familial resemblance. Pressing his lips together and rubbing the back of his neck, he set the photo back on the dresser and then sat on the bed in silence with his chin resting on his palm for a few minutes before dropping down onto the thin mattress. He quietly laid on his back, ruffled his hair, and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He didn’t know how long he rested there, but countless thoughts and worries about his uncertain future in this war-torn world whirled within his mind. Two weeks of studying history books and news articles convinced him that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. Now that he finally got a few moments to let his mind wander, he started processing his thoughts and emotions towards living in this world.

Memories of the family back home that he had ended up estranged from over the years flashed through his mind for a while, weighing down on his heart. The faces of his parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews appeared in his mind one by one. Although it pained his heart to know that he might never see them again, the thing that hurt the most was realizing that he had spent so little time with them that the possibility that he might not be able to see them again only made him about as sad as receiving a negative reception to a chapter of his story. Perhaps the same could be said of his family members back home as well. He doubted any of them would shed a tear for a hermit like himself aside from his overly emotional mother and sister.

And yet I was always touting the value of family bonds in my stories. I'm such a hypocrite.

Grimacing at the realization that he hadn’t treasured his own family enough, he sighed, scratched his head, and forced himself to sit up with brows wrinkled and lips curled downward.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“How did I end up here, and why?” He asked aloud, voicing his questions to nobody in particular.

Resting his forearms on his knees, he lowered his head in thought. Although he couldn’t come up with an explanation due to the lack of information available, he suddenly recalled the comment that got him into this mess in the first place. He didn’t feel angry or upset, but his brows lowered as his face hardened into a serious expression.

“A complete story, was it?” Aaron mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes again and remained in contemplative silence for a few minutes before clenching his fist a few times and muttering, “Maybe I can see that better story now.”

He pondered over the original story he had written and all the troubles humans would face over the next ten years within this troublesome world of his own design. He also pondered over his extraneous notes on the background and lore, some of which never actually made an impact on the main plotline or were only mentioned in passing, yet he could recall everything in eerily vivid detail as though the document was floating right in front of his eyes.

Shortly before sunset, his awareness suddenly returned to him. He glanced at the time on his AR-CO and realized that he had fallen into a trance-like state similar to times he had brainstormed ideas for his story. Both his mind and body felt rested despite not sleeping at all. Only a few moments later, though, his stomach growled, reminding him that he had not eaten anything since leaving the hospital.

“Guess my stomach is still the same,” Aaron said while sporting a wry grin as he stood and ambled over to the tiny kitchen. He rifled through the fridge and cabinets, but only found some low-grade nutrient bars, a single container each of low-grade mana powder and protein powder, a chunky jug of milk a week past its expiration date, and a water filter. He raised a brow at the mana-powder since it was a substance made from low grade spirit herbs and functioned like protein powder for internal mana. Slum rats like himself would never be able to afford such a thing in a normal situation.

Frowning at the realization that the past him was a little strange, and also at the lack of food options, he grabbed one of the nutrient bars that was labeled with messy handwriting as ‘night’ and opened it. Inside was something similar to an oat bar with the texture of peanut brittle. The low-grade nutrient bars contained all the vitamins and minerals a human needed to function. It was enough to tide through hunger.

Just before biting the nutrient bar, he hesitated. Glaring at it, he furrowed his brows and mumbled to himself, “Now that I think about it, I made the low-grade ones taste like sawdust, right?”

He immediately set the bar on the counter and wondered if he should look for a nearby store or restaurant. Unfortunately, his stomach growled in protest. Shaking his head, he picked up the nutrition bar and bit into the bar with a loud crunch. The dry and offputting flavor tasted like the smell of old wood. Gagging on reflex, he barely stomached the taste but forced it down since he didn’t have any other options.

Several minutes later, he finally swallowed the last bite, pinching his nose all the way. Afterward, he gulped down close to a liter of water to wash away the aftertaste. He leaned against the counter and wished that he had never come up with such a thing.

Eventually, he shook away his regrets, sighed, and glanced down at the AR-CO on his wrist. With a brow raised, he inquired, “Now that we’re finally alone, what’s your name?”

[My name is MIRI.] The recorded voice replied.

“I know that’s the name of the AI embedded in there, but I’m asking your name as a Rune Fairy. If you don’t trust me yet, I understand, but for now,” Aaron briefly paused and pointed at the picture frame from earlier, “could you at least scan the couple in that photo over there for me and look for info about them on the extranet for me? I’ll give you a bit of my mana in exchange.”

…

Staring intently at the AR-CO, Aaron waited for almost a full minute before he heard a smooth and ethereal voice reminiscent of a singing bowl or wind chime reply, “...Understood.”

“Thanks,” Aaron said, smiling gently at the AR-CO. A moment later, he felt something within him flow toward the AR-CO on his left wrist, leaving him dizzy. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation.

So this is mana. Letting an external force siphon my mana is probably my only option to feel the flow before attending the Hive, Aaron mused. Then, he chuckled and thought, I bet this little guy is surprised since only the Vurish should know about their existence at this point.

A few seconds later, his mana stopped flowing and reverted to normal, but now he could actually feel its tingling presence within his bones, blood vessels, and muscles. Although he knew everything about mana as the author of this world, physically experiencing it was a whole different beast. He sighed at the fact that only a few seconds had passed since the rune fairy siphoned away some of his mana, yet he was already losing his grasp on the flow.

“This might take longer to get used to than I expected, and this body of mine probably doesn’t have much talent with mana, either,” He grumbled. Then, he shook his head and focused on the shack’s interior with a wry smile and said, “Home sweet home, huh… Still gonna have to find a place closer to the Hive at some point, though.”