A flash of brilliant violet, pure and searing, clashes with a devouring darkness, an abyss that seeks to swallow all light. Two figures stand at the epicentre of an ethereal battleground, one enveloped in pulsating violet lightning, the other a being made of shadow so hungry it devours any light that dares to stray too close. Both figures begin to channel their powers, and if anyone were watching, they would feel a sense of fear and dread for the upcoming clash.
As they channel their power until their bodies begin to tear away at the raw energy coursing through them, both begin to fear their own power. They disappear from their spots, and the sound of swords striking causes a shockwave, accompanied by a deafening ringing, to sweep across the ethereal battleground.
Azreal, rooted to the floor in his one-bedroom apartment, staring into a dusty and off-centre mirror, has his daydream cut short by his phone’s alarm sounding—a daily reminder to take his medication. As his vivid daydream fades from his eyes, his vision slowly returns, and The dusty, off-centre mirror reflects an unkempt room, clear signs of Azreal's isolation and despair. Clothes, trash, and electronics litter the floor and the area around his bed, a chaotic reflection of neglect and apathy. The air hangs heavy with the stale scent of confinement, a weight that seems to press down on Azreal's shoulders as he stares at the self-titled prison he hasn't left in weeks. The walls, once a vibrant white, now bear the markings of time and indifference.
Why am I so pathetic? Am I really cursed to be trapped within this apartment, a prisoner in my own sickly and weak body? The thoughts swirl in Azreal's mind, self-loathing and despair that threatens to drag him under. He clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms, drawing blood which drips onto the floor.
Is this all there is for me? A life of isolation and impotence, watching the world pass me by from behind a dusty window? The questions plague him, a relentless assault on his already fragile psyche. He strikes the mirror, a futile act of defiance against the reflection that mocks him, the pain in his hand a fleeting distraction from the agony in his heart
“ARGH!” screaming out in pain, Azreal grabs his fist with his other hand. Noticing a small cut across his knuckle, he sighs before letting his arms hang down by his side, allowing the blood from his wound to drip onto the cold concrete floor.
‘Why am I cursed to live this life! A sickly, impoverished weak man, I am completely useless!’ Azreal’s beautiful eyes stare himself down, his words and thoughts torturing his own soul. Azreal leans closer to the mirror, getting a better look at his gaunt appearance. Aside from his sickly face and thin body, he has beautiful, crystal blue eyes which sparkle with a deep anger and an even deeper desire to be free from his flesh prison. There is an aura of the unexplainable that surrounds Azreal. His facial structure would be more prominent, Azreal imagines he could be handsome if not for his inability to gain weight, build muscle, or keep a routine. His sharp and sunken features are framed by long, messy, and thin black hair reaching to his lower back.
Azreal shakes his head and attempts to force the thoughts out of his mind. "Azreal, stop being so pathetic, you're alive and walking. That's more than I can say for a few of the children who left the orphanage before they were ready," he says as he stares into the depths of his own soul, searching for answers he would not find.
For the most fleeting of moments, an image of himself with the life Azreal dreamed of flashes through his mind—a world where the strong dominated the weak, and among the strong, he stood at the very top. Quickly, the world he dreamed of faded, and his sad sickly existence was the last view he had before tearing his eyes away from the mirror.
Azreal gazes out the window, which used to offer a beautiful view of the cityscape. He used to spend hours every day staring out the window, imagining himself as a hero with the power to save those in need and, most importantly, ensuring the villains got a good beating. Today, Azreal only has the view of hundreds of neon signs and monolithic skyscrapers. 'I can only imagine what the world was like before the corporatocracy overtook the previous government and rose to power, ripping the soul out of the city. At least I was given the chance to live in an apartment owned by the orphanage,' Azreal sighed, contemplating his fate.
‘If not for the orphanage taking extra effort to look after me once I turned eighteen, I have no idea how long I would’ve been able to survive on the streets.’
A knock on the door snaps Azreal from his thoughts. ‘Who could that be? No one’s been here in years,’ he thinks to himself as he makes his way to the decrepit wooden door of his fifteenth-floor apartment. Slightly opening it, Azreal can't see anyone; he sticks his head further out and notices that the person who knocked on the door is no longer there. Stepping out of his doorway and into the dimly lit hallway of floor fifteen, he takes another step before he bangs his foot into a large black box with golden writing on the lid. “Who the fuck leaves something like this here?” Azreal mutters to himself.
He hesitates briefly before finding himself inexplicably drawn to the golden writing adorning the lid, finding the handwriting mesmerising. Azreal moves the box inside his apartment and places it onto his bed before running his fingers along the writing. ‘This golden writing is drawing me in. I can’t help but feel a deep desire to touch the embossed letters,’ Azreal thought. The beautiful golden writing, written in perfect feminine cursive, reads ‘Heavenly Universe’. Azreal, moving the palm of his hand lightly across the embossed writing, pulls his hand away as the writing fluctuates in response to his touch.
“Strange… I wonder what that was?” says Azreal, moving his hand back and lifting the lid in an attempt to investigate how the writing reacted to his touch. Noting a distinct lack of electronics or sensors before giving up and moving on, his interest grows as to the contents of the black box. Azreal moves the lid to the side, noticing the golden cursive writing has dimmed.
"I must be going insane. Isolating myself for the last few years has finally broken me," Azreal mutters. His eyes widen as he looks inside to find an intricate yet sleek headset, alongside a small black and gold paper booklet. Azreal grabs the headset and booklet, placing the grey mesh-like helmet onto his head, leaving the visor raised, and begins reading. As Azreal opens the booklet, he takes in a sharp breath, surprised by the rush of nostalgia that assaults him as he reads the beautifully written golden cursive writing on the first page.
'Azreal, my love. I know you've struggled. I know you've been abandoned. You will have cursed your life and the heavens for forsaking you, and I believe that you have done the best that you possibly could. Azreal, I need you to know that I am so proud of you and forever thankful for your sacrifice. It brings me great joy that I get to be the one to deliver this good news (you wouldn’t believe the fight I had to have this privilege!). Rejoice! My beautiful prince! For the time of change is upon you, and your life will soon return to what it once was. I cannot guarantee that there won't be struggles, torment, or pain ahead of you. But I have faith that you will overcome all the obstacles in your path and return to your rightful place in this world. I have modified your headset as much as I could without angering the heavens. I pray this small gift will unlock the life that you wished for yourself and all those important to you.' Azreal finally took a breath before reading the final line, with a tear in his eye, 'My ever and immortal love, from your eternal love.' Tears begin to fall from Azreal’s face onto the booklet as the words begin to fade.
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The feeling of nostalgia and longing overtakes Azreal, causing his tears to overwhelm him and carry on for over a minute after the golden words faded. Azreal couldn’t understand why he felt such emotion reading a simple letter of love, but an undeniable feeling that those words were quintessential to his life.
Azreal sits perfectly still for the better part of half an hour, going over the words in his head, ensuring he would never forget, before deciding to read the rest of the booklet. The booklet is a manual that explains some of the basics and detailed information regarding ‘Heaven’s Universe’, a sense of disbelief overcomes Azreal as the booklet claims the headset would transport the user to a hyper-realistic world, First Heaven referred to as ‘Heaven's Root’.
The booklet outlines the importance of the first heaven as it serves as the foundation for each of the heavens above. ‘All the heavens? How big is this game world?’ Azreal ponders how it was possible for something like a VR headset to exist in reality, something he had only read about in fanfic and web novels. Azreal's heart begins to thump heavily in his chest, as he reads the rest of the manual. Filled with excitement, after finishing the manual, he slides the visor down and pushes the small orange button, located just under his right ear. As the headset hummed to life, Azreal's breath caught in his throat. 'This is more than my escape,' he thought, a pulse of adrenaline surging through him as the screen flickered. 'It's a rebirth. Here, I can be someone more than a frail shadow of myself.' He clung to that thought, a beacon against the fear of the unknown that the new world represented.
Initially, Azreal is deprived of each of his senses, causing a sliver of panic to seep into his mind. Losing the ability to smell, see, feel, and sense anything around him is a very strange sensation. However, it isn’t wholly uncomfortable for someone like Azreal, who deals with physical and mental anguish daily.
What feels like a few minutes pass by, nothingness was Azreal’s only friend. Suddenly, a bright white light flashes and causes pain to flare in his eyes. His vision slowly recovers and Azreal finds all of his senses gradually returning. Azreal’s eyes scan the room, finding himself suspended in a pure white room with vast nothingness stretching into the distance.
Azreal looked down and to his surprise, the sickly body he had seen every day for the last eighteen years was no longer there. A healthy, albeit skinny, body moves as he wishes. He still has his long black hair, but instead of it being a complete mess, it is well looked after and fastened into a ponytail. ‘There's no way! The manual said our bodies and our brains would be scanned, forcing us to bring our real bodies into this world with us…’
Azreal can't stop touching his body before a voice that would make the heavens jealous speaks loud and clear. "Welcome to the Heavenly Universe. I know this experience is disorienting. Please bear with me while I test your talent and potential. After I have gauged your ability, you will be randomly assigned to an Entrance Examination for a random Sect in Heaven's Root. If you pass their examination, you will be brought into their sect and taught how to cultivate."
Azreal thanked the serene and heavenly voice, albeit through gritted teeth, as he was still disorientated. As his vision becomes clearer and clearer, Azreal begins to notice the figure is far more stunning than he could ever imagine. The lady floating in the air before him has a very full figure with long golden hair tied into a ponytail. Her vibrant red lips, which help accentuate her beautiful features, are a testament to the beauty this woman holds. Azreal can only ponder how beautiful her eyes were as she had a deep blue mask covering them, her porcelain white skin only adding to her beauty.
"I-I am Azreal, may I please have your name?" Azreal stammers. Before entering the new world, Azreal had promised himself that he would be more confident and try to live life to his fullest capability. However, he could never have known that all of his confidence would be required mere minutes into putting the helmet on. Startled by his question, the beautiful woman leans in towards Azreal, and with breathy words, she whispers directly into his ear, "When you become strong enough, and with the luck of the heavens, our paths may cross again."
Her words are both enticing and powerful, making Azreal’s entire body tremble. He can feel the difference in their power; her words alone could crush an existence like himself. The beautiful figure begins to pull away, and Azreal, reflecting on his earlier promise to himself, thinks, 'Not again. I will not start my second life by missing a chance to talk more with this beautiful woman, and I will not cower away from everything.'
Slowly lifting his head, trembling as the power of her words shakes his core, he stares directly where her eyes should be behind the eye mask and begins to speak stumbling over his words as his soul trembles, "So if I become strong enough and get the chance to meet you again, will you entertain the idea of someone like me?"
Shocked by his words, it takes the beautiful woman a few seconds to recover. ‘I can’t believe someone so weak managed to overcome my soul power infused words… very impressive,’ she thinks. A beautiful smile begins to spread across her face. "Okay, Azreal. If, and it's a big if, you can reach me in the upper heavens, I will let you know my name. If you are strong enough at that time, you may even gain my attention." The beautiful woman’s smile turns into a smirk before her face becomes more serious.
“Now stop distracting me and let me do what I came to do," she says while raising her arms towards Azreal. Once both her palms face Azreal’s body, she begins to extend an unknown power that covers him in a light, warm yellow colour.
A few minutes pass, and her expression changes from focus to confusion, before finally morphing into surprise. "You... you? How is someone with your talent so weak?!?" After a few moments of silence, the lady continues. "Thank the heavens I was the one to find you. If those children were the ones to find you… your fate would be worse than you could ever imagine. Azreal, the fact that I was the one to meet you here means you were extremely lucky." She pulls her aura into her body and, with a small hand wave, a small gold and pink token with a sword embedded into an ethereal man manifests in front of Azreal's eyes.
"This token will become active once you reach the third heaven known as Blazing Frontier. It will become active and provide you with a guide, leading you to my sect. This token will provide you with the ability to enter my Sect’s lands and move uninterrupted." As she finishes speaking, Azreal reaches out, and before he can grasp the token, it quickly flies straight at him and merges into his body.
"Stop your useless panicking. I have embedded the crest into your soul, so it won't be detected before you reach the third heaven," she says. With a wave of her hand, Azreal's body is lifted into the air, and after a small sideways movement of her other hand, he is flung into a portal. The last thing he hears as his body enters this portal are her final words, "Good luck, little one. Your talents are immense, and your potential is limitless. Be careful; this is both a curse and a blessing."