The moon hung high. A cab rolled to a stop in front of an old apartment building.
A man stepped out, checking his wallet with a tired but satisfied look.
'It'll be enough for the next few weeks.'
He climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to his room a complete mess. Clothes scattered, dishes piled in the sink, dust thick on the shelves. He barely taken notice of them.
'Bad days are finally over, now I can finally search for a beautiful wife.'
Today, after four years of grinding away at his job, he finally got promoted.
His gaze drifted to the PC setup in the corner. The only thing he ever used it for was one game The Crimson Asura.
He remembered the first time he read its synopsis. Something about it just clicked with him. It wasn't just a game. It felt like a story that was always meant for him.
And then, there was the tagline. The words that had never left his mind:
"Marked by heavens. Cursed by fate. Feared by all."
His phone rang. John.
'Why is this gaming maniac calling me now?'
With a sigh, he answered only to regret it immediately.
"HEY, HENRY! THE FINAL ARC DROPPED! IT'S PEAK!"
'Really?'
Henry didn't even bother replying. He hung up, opened his PC, and started downloading the update.
Dinner? Forgotten. Sleep? Who needed it?
Hours blurred. The sun crept over the horizon.
And then
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE CRIMSON ASURA.]
He leaned back, adrenaline pumping, exhaustion be damned.
"Hell yeah!"
A glance at the clock. 8:00 AM.
His excitement vanished in an instant.
"Crap. First day at my new post!"
Panicked, he rushed to freshen up. In his hurry, his hand knocked against the mirror.
CRASH.
Shards scattered across the floor.
But he didn't care much.
'I'll clean it up when I get back'.
With that thought, he headed to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he stepped into the main hall, towel draped over his shoulders
And froze.
A shard of the mirror was floating in midair.
He was shocked was an understatement. He was confused by the situation.
'Is this a prank? Those damn kids again?'
His eyes darted around. "Alright, come out! I know it's you"
The shard shone.
Then, without warning
It shot forward.
Straight into his chest.
Henry collapsed. His body refused to move. He could still see, still think, but the pain never came. Only numbness.
Blood pooled beneath him, warm against the cold floor.
He knew he was dying. But strangely, he didn't care.
He was an introvert and an orphan. So, he has no attachments to this world. If there was one thing, he valued above all, Self dignity.
And right now, he was dying naked, wrapped in nothing but a towel.
If someone found his corpse like this?
Humiliating.
But fate was cruel. His final breath left him, silent and painless.
.....
Beyond time and space.
In the void where existence trembled, an obsidian spire loomed the Eternal Spire.
At its peak, a bell hung in silence. For eons, it had rung only in whispers. Slowly, Faintly, almost forgotten.
Until now. The bell ranging loudly, tearing through the fabric of space itself
The sound shattered the stillness, resonating across the void. A call. A proclamation.
A voice, deep as the abyss, hummed in amusement.
"So, the lost one returns."
Another voice, filled with ancient mirth, echoed in the dark.
"Hah Let's see what kind of evolution you bring to this crumbling existence."
"Will you tread the path of your predecessor or forge a salvation from our past sins?"
The void trembled, as if waiting and watching.
"Soon, the stars will align once more. Every shard will take its place, the dice will roll, and we shall wait… until the serpent devours them all."
.....
Gasp.
Henry's eyes snapped open as he jolted upright, lungs burning, greedily sucking in air.
Pain. Every breath stabbed into his ribs. His body screamed in agony.
His gaze drifted downward his chest. His heart. Or rather... where his heart should have been.
A gaping hole. Flesh torn open. His insides exposed.
He should be dead.
Yet before his own eyes his body began to stitch itself back together. Muscle. Skin. Bone. Within seconds, the wound had vanished.
But before he could understand what's happening, a new, blinding pain exploded from his left forearm.
A pain far worse than dying.
'Wait I died. That Shard it pierced my heart!'
His breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the source of agony.
Black ink crawled across his skin on his left-hand forearm, shifting, twisting, warping into something new.
The shape settled. A serpent tattoo.
'A Sigil.'
Henry's mind reeled. His arms trembled.
He knew what this meant.
He was no longer in his world.
He had transmigrated.
Only now did he take in his surroundings.
A battlefield.
Corpses everywhere. Blood pooled beneath bodies, human and beast alike, the stench of death hanging thick in the air. Scavengers feasted on the fallen.
The foul scent hit him hard.
His stomach churned as he wanted to vomit.
"Cough-cough"
His head snapped toward the sound.
A man in late twenties.
His right cheek was marked with an old wound. His eyes are bleeding, yet he stood tall, unfazed, pulling a bloodstained kerchief from his pocket.
Calmly, he wiped the crimson tears from his damaged eyes.
Then, he spoke.
"Never thought I'd take in a disciple one day and certainly not the very person I just killed."