The wind howled, a mournful, hollow sound that tore through the thin fabric of Kaelen's shirt. He stood on the rusted railing of the bridge, his heels hanging over the black abyss of the flowing river.
He had always been a bright kid, no matter how much life tested his waters. His mind allowed him to navigate and suppress the things that would aim to hurt him, easily finding the most appropriate ways to deal with the issues.
It was why so many things didn't bother him: too much responsibility—fine; bullying—fine; the death of his mother... well, that one had to be suppressed, but otherwise he was fine too.
But then why... was he thinking of such things?
He was calculating the height, the velocity of the wind, and the exact percentage chance that the impact would snap his neck instantly.
"98.4%," he whispered.
He dropped the water bottle he got from the library... - 'Those people were nice.'
He thought of the memory of how they saw his condition and gave him water—he truly did look homeless now. That was because he was
For a few months now, or has it been a year... 'Isn't my 16th birthday somewhere around this time?'
The thoughts seemingly dissipated along with the soft howl of the wind and into the shadows of the night.
This truly was a perfect place to die. The street lamps provided a lot of light, and the woods right behind him held deep shadows. It was such a picturesque setting...
'But what is that annoying sound?'
"Kaelen! Stop! Please!"
The voice was familiar as it was a voice he knew all too well despite trying to forget it.
The voice was his father's, cracked with a desperation that felt decades too late despite only a single year passing.
Perhaps that's how it felt for those who grew up in luxury and were then kicked to the streets.
"Please, Kael..." - He didn't need to turn his head; that voice belonged to his sister.
"Come down from there, please..." - That one was his brother.
It had been a year since that girl accused him of... well, he'd rather not think about the accusations. The actual hurtful part was that this so-called family threw him under the bus; well, they threw him on the street, but the message still stands. He was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on his back—left with nothing; after being disowned, even his surname was gone.
'It's fine... I liked Mom's better anyway.'
"We found footage of the day she accused you, Kael. We know you didn't, and that she lied!" his brother screamed over the wind. "It was her. We know you were framed. We know the truth now! We're here to take you home. We can fix everything! Please!..."
Kaelen turned his head slightly. His eyes were vacant, like a house with the lights turned off. He looked at the family that had thrown him to the wolves the moment someone from a more powerful family asked, and for the first time in his life, his mind found no data to process. There was no "fixing" a mirror once it had been ground into dust.
"Home?" Kaelen's voice was a raspy whisper; perhaps he should have drunk the water first. "You didn't want me when I was innocent. Why would I want you now that you're sorry?"
"Kaelen, please!" his father took a step forward.
"The part of me that cared about your apology broke a long time ago," Kaelen said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I don't think I want to be in this world anymore."
He stepped forward grumbling under his breath
Killing them would not bring any peace but ending himself...
The fall was silent. He turned in the air, his long hair fluttering upwards as he watched the bridge shrink into a thin line against the midnight sky, feeling a lightness he had never known. But as the water rushed up to claim him
But the world didn't go black.
It shattered.
Kaelen gasped, but no water entered his lungs. Instead, he found himself in some impossible space. An endless expanse of void with stars shimmering in its web
He fell onto a surface that was cold but comforting. He scrambled backward, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He wasn't on the bridge. He wasn't in the river. He was in a vast, impossible void where the sky was composed of swirling white flames and deep, devouring shadows.
"What... where am I?" he choked out, his mind spinning out of control.
He immediately focused and worried about the most important things now; whatever was next would wait.
Temperature: Regulated.
Atmosphere: Breathable
Location: Unknown
Status: ... Unknown
[Soul from beyond the Veil]
A cold voice spoke; it seemed ancient and unbothered by anything, as if it existed to speak only the facts of existence, and that cold, genderless voice sent a shiver down Kaelen's spine as if he somehow knew it.
"Who's there? Is this... some kind of afterlife?"
[A human born from beyond chosen and marked by ...]
The voice seemed to buffer momentarily as if information unknown to it was forcing itself through but failing.
[...Marked by the ... and chosen as the heir of the one who sat on the Throne of the worlds]
[A Transmigrator given a choice. You are the architect of your own end.
Kaelen's blood ran cold. Transmigrator? He knew that word. He knew the runes were beginning to manifest in the air.
He knew the voice speaking to him.
And he knew where he was.
This was the world of Shadow Slave.
A brutal, unforgiving story even to the main character
"No," he whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs. "No, this is a dream. I'm dying. This is a hallucination before the brain shuts down."
[Your soul was already broken, Kaelen. It made it so much easier to... reforge. Before you enter the Nightmare, choose. Do you accept your new life?]
The spell didn't care about his denial. It loomed over him, a cosmic pressure demanding an answer.
Kaelen's mind raced. If this was real, he was about to be dropped into a hell scape. He needed power. He thought of a new life. one he can forge as he wants...
if he could survive
But was there any reason to hesitate? He was already dead after all.
"I choose to accept," Kaelen stammered, his survival instinct finally overriding his confusion. "I want to build my life up by my own will!"
A long, heavy silence followed. The runes flared with a terrifying, almost approving brilliance.
[A Wise Choice.]
[Being not from this land, prepare yourself for the Trials of Hell prepared by ...]
[The Nameless King]
"Wait!" Kaelen cried out, reaching into the sky of midnight stars. "I don't know how to fight! I'm a student, not a soldier! aren't I supposed to be given some ability I don't even have a weapon—"
[Aspirant, welcome to the nightmare spell...]
[Prepare for the First Trial...]
Suddenly Kaelen found himself in front of the gates of a gargantuan tower made of an obsidian glass that seemed completely normal
But that was the thing... not everything that looked good was.
He looked up and saw the structure of the building. Not too wide and not very tall just glistening in place
Most likely the objective was at the top.
"I'm going to die," he wheezed, looking at his trembling, empty hands. "I'm actually going to die here."
He stepped into the tower's lowest layer...