Online In Another World

"I know it'll turn out just fine," she assured him.

"How do you–"

Before he could try and question the words of the maternal figure before him, he stopped himself as he already knew.

"Right…Yeah, it'll be fine," he nodded, returning his own smile to his lips, "I'll do my best to make sure of that, so don't worry about me."

"Now, that's a bit too much to ask of your mother, don't you think?" She chuckled.

"Yeah, probably," he smiled.

Standing up alongside his mother, he looked down at the bony hands of his previous body, which were held by his parent's own. For some reason, his own hands which he had grown to despise so much in their sickly appearance, no longer seemed as bad.

I have to do this. I can't stay here–I have to go, he thought.

"Well…I have to go now," he said.

"Mhm," his mother nodded knowingly with a small smile.

Seeing that kindness that naturally exuded from her, intertwined with a love that came with no strings attached, he felt himself pause for a split-second, feeling tears well up again before he forced himself to swallow those feelings.

"Thank you, Mom. Putting up with a troublesome son like me…I'm sure I was a handful," he said.

A small shake of his mother's head dissuaded that notion before she responded with gentle words, "Mothers don't do it for thanks. There's no reason–no matter how easy or difficult our children may be, of course a mother will always take care of them."

"...I appreciate that. I know I never told you that, but I always have. It's because of you that I had any life at all," he said.

"Don't thank me for that. Just…take care of yourself, okay?" She held her hands together as if requesting such with a smile.

"Sure, Mom. I'll do that," he nodded with a smile.

–Just like that, the reuniting of the two was over as he found himself once more alone in his room after the door was closed again.

It was quiet; the whirl of the ceiling fan above him monotonously spun over his head, the hum of his computer filled his ears.

Part of it was natural; the purpose of the room he found himself in. Though it initially overwhelmed him, it didn't take long for him to realize the truth of it–the existence of the third room wasn't malicious at all.

…Something like this…It's not something I could buy with any amount of money or achieve with my own strength. It's a gift I couldn't have received in any possible way–so whoever gave this to me: thank you. I needed it, he thought.

The value of "closure" was something he didn't fully realize until just then, finding a hole in his heart filled as he sat down on his old bed. It was softer than he remembered; broken into his body and as warm as if he used it just the day before.

Still, this isn't my life anymore. I belong somewhere else, he thought.

As he looked down, he saw the box stationed by his bed that changed it all; a product that would forever alter the course of his existence, inscribed with the company's name on the side: "SAMSARA".

Despite all of the pain and hardship, despite what and who I've lost…I don't regret being Emilio Dragonheart, he resolved, I've made so many friends, I've done things I never could've dreamed of with a weak body…I have proper dreams now. That doesn't mean I'll forget my past life, either. Thank you, Mom.

Bringing the white headset out of the box, he slowly plugged it in, taking in each moment as he knew the finality of the nostalgic view around him.

Despite going through these actions over fifteen years prior, it still felt natural to him, as if he was following a thread of his past actions, going through them all again as he laid down on the bed. He held the headset on his chest for a minute, grasping it between his hands as he ran his fingertips against the sleek material.

This is what brought me to Arcadius; a catalyst to bring people from one world to another, he thought, still…I wish I could know how SAMSARA came to access something like this. I know for a fact they didn't create Arcadius.

Such thoughts were suited for another time as he opted to slide the headset over his head, bringing the visor over his eyes before he slowly drew a breath into his lungs.

With a simple tap, the device, almost mystical in nature, powered on as his consciousness instantly flickered.

Goodbye, Earth, he thought.

[Welcome to Reincarnation Online]

As everything seemed to fade away, he suddenly shot open his eyelids to find himself standing in the room with the locked cube, surrounded by the closed doors and left stunned for a moment.

"...I'm back here…" He mumbled.

Glancing down, he found the red cloak around his body and with it, the body he was adjusted to–he was no longer in the malnourished form of Ethan Bellrose.

"Huh."

In his hand, he found that he was already holding the third key needed, though he didn't remember ever finding it.

I guess I passed the test, then, he thought.

Once more, he picked up the dark-black cube from its transparent stand, turning it to a locked side before sliding the key into the designated section.

Click

Three-fourths of the cube were now unlocked as he placed it back on the glass bowl of the stand, leaving only one key to go.

As he brought his gaze directly up, he looked at the final door awaiting him, etched into the ceiling in an ominous fashion.

Last room, he thought.

It was a bit of a stretch to reach up, but he managed to stand on his tippy-toes, grasping the handle and twisting it to pop the door above his head open.

He was hesitant to do it, but he jumped up, grabbing onto the thresholds as he hoisted himself up with a bit of a struggle.

"...Hhfff…!"

Without the aid of his Dragonheart System or magical reinforcement, he was left with only the reasonably above average physique of a teenager–it wasn't all that much.

As he gripped onto the sides of the threshold like a rock climber ascending a steep mountainside, he kicked his lower half up, smacking his feet against the overhead door to swing it open.

Using that momentum, he hoisted himself up through the ceiling door with one last struggle, climbing through and onto a new floor.

"Phew…" He let out.

A moment was taken to catch his breath as he sat there before standing up, looking around at the room he found himself in.

It resembled a church to him, yet corrupted by walls painted in tar and aged. There were no pearly white walls, only dark and grimy.

All he knew was that it wasn't a welcoming atmosphere in the slightest; dust laid thick in the air, as if crawling into a long-since sealed area. The mold clinging to the walls didn't make breathing any easier, either.

I already don't like this, he thought.

He made sure to keep note of the sword at his hip as he walked forward through the decaying chamber towards the tall, plated doors of black-steel at the other end.

Waiting a moment, he kept his hands pressed against the twin doors before pushing his palms against their cold exterior, forcing them open. As he slowly pushed forward, having to use his body weight to slowly spread the doors before him, he stumbled into the room beyond.

It was a small room, but dense with eye-catching items: weapons lined the walls, varying greatly.

"...What is this?" He mumbled.

Swords of all sizes; daggers, shortswords, broadswords, and even claymores lined the walls. There were spears, some jagged, and some double-sided, even axes, hammers, flails, and bows. Shields, wooden, circular, or rectangular, some made of steel, sat in the armory as well.

There were dozens of weapons, leaving no clear space on the walls, though it didn't seem to be a good sign for him.

Something like this can only mean…they're preparing me for a big fight, aren't they? He thought.

It wasn't until he took a few steps into the room that he noticed the podium in the center of the room, extending a limb of wood shaped like a hand that held another note.

What he found was a note with much more words than before, abandoning the supremely annoying vagueness from before:

["Emilio Dragonheart, you will have seven attempts to find the key once you exit the door beyond this note. It is a labyrinth, tricky and deceitful, but only one enemy will be after you."]

–As he continued reading, he found his stomach sinking and his heart skipping a beat at the grand meaning of the words inscribed with ink:

["You have encountered the "Dread", an aspect of a greater Primordial that embodies violence. However, that is only one iteration of the "Dread"--what lays beyond those doors, lurking the labyrinth, is a version of "Dread" from a fallen world; it was born amidst a worldwide war, and ended up annihilating humanity in completion. This is not "Dread", but "War"--perhaps an inferior entity, but nonetheless vastly superior to your current self. This is not a battle you're expected to win; find the key and escape. Good luck, Emilio Dragonheart."]

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