Valenius was jolted awake by a sudden crash against the wall. Groggy, he ran his fingers through his damp, wavy black hair.

His bright blue eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, faintly illuminated by slivers of light seeping through the bedroom window.

Then came a loud screech, the sound of a plate shattering on the timber floor, followed by his mother’s wails.

Springing from his bed, Valenius grabbed a golf club and dashed towards the kitchen, driven by his mother’s cries.

He scanned the room for any sign of an intruder, but only the familiar, worn-out kitchen greeted him. For a moment, he recalls his friends teasing him about his retro home decor to lift his spirits. However, Valenius knew the actual cause of the damaged interior.

Valenius’s smile faded as his mother whimpered behind the worn kitchen table. He cautiously approached the source of her cries, feeling the rough texture of the timber floor beneath his bare feet.

Valenius felt a bone-chilling cold as he walked, shivering in the frigid air. His heart sank at the sight of his mother, Avelin, slumped over the faded green couch, her head buried in the cushion as she whimpered. He approached and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her for comfort.

Avelin lifted her head, her red, watery eyes meeting Valenius’s. She forced a smile and asked if he wanted something to eat. Valenius smiled back, but his smile faded as he observed the changes in his mother - her once smooth face now lined with wrinkles. She once had pitch black as the night sky, but now her hair faded black and grey. He realised how much he had taken for granted.

As Avelin touched his face, her hand felt weak. Valenius slid her hand away, offering a forced smile, and responded, “I am not hungry. Are you okay?”

Avelin carefully lifted herself as she turned her back to Valenius, with her faded black hair blocking her face from his view as she tried to hide her tears.

Avelin responded softly, “Yes, Valenius, I am fine. The plate just slipped out of my hand, that’s all.” She slowly walked over to where the broken plates lay and attempted to gather them. Struggling, Valenius quickly stepped in to pick up the plates for her and dispose of them.

Avelin then turned to Valenius and said sombrely, “I’m sorry, Valenius. I don’t want you to worry. I’m fine. Just having a bad day. After visiting your father in the hospital, it’s hard for me to see him like...”

She stopped, realising she had said too much, and forcedly smiled at Valenius. “Don’t worry about me, Valenius. Honestly, I’ll be fine in the morning. You have a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to be another worry. Please, let me rest. I will be fine.”

Avelin paused, slowly turning to Valenus and speaking softly, “How are you feeling? Seeing your father that way must not have been easy.”

Valenius’s eyes filled with tears as he tried to hide them under his short black hair. He took a deep breath and whispered to his mother, “I am fine. It’s hard seeing Dad like that. I wish he could wake up, even for a minute. He looks peaceful. Please don’t worry about me, Mom.”

After hugging his mother, Valenius returned to his bedroom, lay on his bed, and stared at the white wall, lost in thoughts about his father. He longed to talk to him again, to express his love and regret over their last argument.

Needing a distraction from his overwhelming thoughts, Valenius waited until Avelin was in bed. He quickly grabbed the fantasy book he had been reading the previous night, titled “The Swords of the Unforgotten Memories: The Secrets Beneath the Ripples.”

A father and his young son walked up a winding path that led to a hill overlooking a breathtaking cliffside.

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Beside him, his son took hesitant steps, his eyes wide with wonderment.

Opedius, the father, turned to his son, his brown eyes softening with warmth. In a voice as gentle as it was deep, he started their conversation.

“Do you remember the tale about our ancestors and the great battle between the monsters and our people?”

His son’s voice quivered slightly as he replied, “No, father. Is this why you brought me here?”

Opedius replied, “Yes, my son, it is vital that you listen.”

The fourteen-year-old boy, Loac, scampered over to his father’s side, looking up at the figure towering above him.

Opedius continued, his gaze fixed on the village.

“Legends say that our god, Ferlenius, the goddess of fire and light, appeared to our ancestors during an annual ritual. In the fire pit’s flames, she showed them a vision of our people under attack from these monsters, alongside wooden statues of the most feared predator, Scanlist. This vision inspired our ancestors to create what you see behind us.”

Loac glanced at the Scanlist statue and then turned his gaze back to his father, his mouth slightly open.

Opedius continued, “They crafted a horn that could mimic the terrifying roar of the Scanlist. Each night, the villagers smeared themselves in mud and blood, carrying the wooden Scanlist into the forest, blaring their horns and standing their ground against the predators. They continued this every night until the monsters fled our village for good.”

Opedius sighed, looking at his son.

“The reason I’m telling you this is that I fear the forest is becoming dangerous again. A young girl was almost killed near Vinenoris, our neighbouring village to the north, just last night, but thankfully, a mysterious stranger saved her life. We need to leave this village soon. I am working on a safe plan to avoid encountering those beasts.”

Opedius paused momentarily, then crouched down to Loac’s height, holding his son by the shoulders.

“Loac, I want us to go tracking later today. I know we’ve done it many times, but I need to know that if we ever get separated, you will always be able to find your way back to us. Can we please do it one last time?”

Loac stared at his father, then nodded, his voice firm. “Yes, I will, Father. I promise! And this time, I’ll try my best to find you.”

His father, still maintained eye contact, stood up. His eyes were brimming with tears. “You’re a good boy, Loac. We should head back home; your mother will be worried....”

Valenius closed the book, flung it across the room in frustration, and cried.

His mind wandered back to when he was 14, a decade ago, when his father was healthy, and his mother was at peace. He longed for those carefree days, but knew such a wish was impossible.

He couldn’t turn back time, and the harsh reality was that he might never see his father awake again. Though he loved his father dearly, Valenius felt guilty for grieving, believing he should be grateful for the time they had.

Desperate to escape his thoughts, he looked around his room for something to distract him. Eventually, he rushed over to his gaming console, but every game he had was too familiar, the stories all known by heart.

Sighing deeply, Valenius left his house and went to the backyard shed.

He took his bike and cycled to the old retro video store in town, hoping to find something new to distract him. The streets of Vainlin were quiet, with only the chirping of birds and the distant sounds of cars.

Upon arriving at the town’s only video game shop, Valenius opened the door and scanned the store. Unfortunately, every game he saw was something he had already played or didn’t feel like playing.

Valenius browsed the store aimlessly, searching for a game that would pique his interest. Suddenly, he heard a clatter behind him.

He turned around, his curiosity was piqued by a game on the floor. The cover featured a character with black hair wearing a brown cloak, strikingly similar to Valenius in appearance and build. Intrigued by this coincidence, he picked up the game for a closer look.

As he examined the cover, his interest grew. The back cover revealed a story about a man thrust into an unfamiliar world where he must either adapt and survive or fail. Convinced that this game was meant for him, Valenius purchased it.

After buying the game, he hurried home. Before going to his room, he checked on his mother.

Peeking through the slightly open door, he saw her tossing in bed, trying to sleep. Valenius exhaled an icy breath as he quietly closed the door and proceeded to his room to play the game.

To his frustration, the game wouldn’t work. He checked the disc for scratches or dust, but found it spotless. Suddenly, his console shut off. Feeling exhausted, Valenius called it a night and went to bed.

Minutes after Valenus fell asleep, the game console mysteriously turned on, emitting a clicking noise.

The TV screen lit up, displaying a map of Wyaninious. The screen then brightened, waking Valenius with its intensity.

Startled, he screamed as he felt something pulling him.