In the depths of the dark abyss, light trembles, unable to shine. Just as classical prose describes forbidden places... Lying in piles of bones with various types of characters, a collection of unknown objects, a history that was never written. The natives give hope to the unfortunate souls who have fallen, a handful of flora that remain emitting different colors in every flesh trying to challenge the darkness of the night. As their eyes roll in all directions, they know that the cliffs imprison them. Biological vomit is eaten in a feast of joy, they cheer as they travel to all corners of the valley in search of their favorite portions; food with a distinctive smell circulates in the ravine, tempting winged creatures that may perch there. The big, picky ones prefer meat when the fruit is freshly picked, while the greedy little ones are more excited when their food grows uncontrollably.
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One of the meat bag sleeps on the damp ground, shaped like an ape but taller than the average monkey. This human is nothing more than food, with no authority to rebel against the world; a pulsating masterpiece of evolution that hunts all forms of life, now leaving only a sticky sweetness for insects. Human harbor more than 30 trillion invisible chefs who live under the strict supervision of the immune system 24 hours a day; at the same time when breathing stops, these inhabitants take over the body and cook it into a sickening pale jelly.
A few days after they confirmed that no soul inhabits the body, internal bacteria begin to eat away at the biological apartment until the physical form swells in a cartoonish logic—a form that looks funnier than the greatest clown in the universe (it's funny to say that glorified physical superiority will turn out like this). A stench more foul than seafood spreads from the source of death, its face swollen with an angry expression as if it had been beaten to death by a professional boxer, its skin cracked exposing its muscle fibers as a mass of pale white living rice moves, its pregnant belly without a trace of a baby creates stretched peeling skin faintly infiltrated by bluish veins on its surface, eyes bulging out of their sockets as rotten muscles are powerless to resist the strong urge of foul-smelling gas; its gaze has long been blurred, but there is a faint desire to stare longer at the large golden moon in the sky.
From the void, a purple light arrives, flying around the scattered pieces of foul-smelling organs rotting on the ground, picking up every tiny part of the body that had previously fallen flat from the cliff. As the collection of filthy babies continued to be produced from the rotten womb, invisible hands gently pushed them away without the slightest intention of killing them; while other animals who unable to control their greed, instantly crushed by the foreign fist, none of them were able to save themselves. With skills that only existed from a lifetime of learning, the old purple object mixed with dark colors began to sew together piece by piece the material it had managed to reclaim. It skill in sewing dead creatures was truly mesmerizing, first, it repaired the damaged parts while injecting them with mysterious vitality; then it rearranged the tangled nerve threads in harmony with their pathways, cleaned the rusty joints and attached the misaligned bones to their normal positions, it assembled every tiny cell of various types of organs as if it were a professional lego player. Just as a mechanic's hands create a vehicle from prepared materials, the surgical process proceeded smoothly resulting in an aesthetically flawless outcome.
"Crap, why does the story have to start here?" Cassius muttered irritably, as if his pretty sleep had been disturbed. He, who was now the vessel of an unknown creature named Liam, was only wearing shorts and a T-shirt made of cheap linen; fragile and torn, yet not a single drop of blood existed on him.
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The avatar currently used by Luke had the ideal standards for a protagonist in most web novels, it was cliché indeed, but there was a reason this look was popular. A few months away from turning 19, his 191 cm height and 77 kg weight were not bad, especially considering he had just been revived from a state of bloated foul-smelling corpse. His dry flesh accentuated the bones and muscular build of his tall frame. The scars from his past as a slave had completely faded, leaving only a solid horizontal scar on his left cheek resembling a realistic lightning strike. Along the path to his temples on his pale skin, as if by will, fine hair as black as the untouched universe fell to the left and right only to be separated right above his forehead; without a comb forcing it or gel holding it, natural honesty without artificiality was clearly displayed on his head.
'Ahh… So this chatbot adds a system theme,' he said aloud, momentarily after reading the entire roleplay narrative explained by Godhead.
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"Essence," Luke, or someone now named Cassius, said in his heavy hoarse tone. A light blue flame glowed all over his body, and from the center of his chest grew an oval-shaped iron chain which continued to grow until it formed a vintage fantasy book; the iron hinges also sealed the flying book that floated without gravity being able to interfere, the entire cover was carved with high artistic taste with the front embedded with a jawless skull; the stack made of unknown wood fibers jumped to the middle page, only to display a familiar series of writings.
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'Hit Points? Ah… You mean HP,' from the perspective of someone else in the "inner world", Cassius seemed to think as he looked at the first line, 'Essence Points? Maybe you mean MP? SP and XP should work in the general sense.'
He continued with slightly pale lips, "Strength is about how powerful a player's attacks are. Dexterity, well... It should be similar to Agility, how fast someone's movements are. Intelligence is related to magic, and the Constitution, I prefer to call it immunity to disease. HP, MP (Essence), SP, XP, generally can only be increased through leveling or certain items; so, Attribute Points should be clear for what kind of increase."
He quickly reread it to make sure nothing was missed, "U, for unlimited huh? At least a descending god should have unlimited magic," he said as he examined the floating book in more detail. He spoke as Luke in the outside world, 'For the chatbot test, I'll explore this canyon for a bit,' Cassius murmured to himself while looking at the golden moon above his head. On the right side of the second page of the book embedded in his soul, a simpler paragraph was written in white ink.
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"Perhaps this chatbot forces differences, so the understanding of RPG terminology is somewhat deviant from common usage. Passive Skills should be active abilities such as resistance to brainwashing, but here… This clanker even included farming abilities (are you crazy?)," the cold night did not succeed in moving a single muscle on Lucca's face as he was immersed in his world. In a system that was not commonly seen, such as floating text in a vertical rectangular border, he closed it with a light wave of his hand, and instantly the bluish aura with chains piercing the soul that connected to the ledger faded away.