The sun rose and set, days turned into nights and back into days, but Johan's efforts to understand his card remained unfruitful. Each day, he would wake up before dawn, his mind abuzz with new ideas and approaches to unlock the potential of the card. And each night, he would retire to bed late, exhaustion pulling him into a restless sleep, the card still as silent and enigmatic as ever.
Johan's frustration mounted with each passing day. The card seemed to mock him, its mysterious symbols and intricate designs offering no clues, no matter how hard he tried to understand them. He could feel the anger simmering within him, threatening to spill over. More than once, he caught himself clenching his fist around the card, his knuckles turning white with the effort.
His mind was a whirlpool of questions, a maze of doubts and uncertainties that he couldn't escape. "Why can't I unlock you? What am I missing? What am I doing wrong?" He would mutter to himself, his voice a mere whisper against the haunting silence of his room.
In his darkest moments, a seed of despair would plant itself in his heart. He would gaze at the card, his fingers tracing its cold, metallic surface, and feel a sinking feeling in his gut. "Is it even possible for me to become a Card Master?" He would ask himself, his eyes clouded with self-doubt.
But despite these moments of weakness, Johan didn't give up. Each failure, each moment of despair, only fuelled his determination. He would grip the card tighter, his jaw setting with resolve. He wouldn't be defeated so easily. After all, the night is always darkest before the dawn.
...
Continuation:
Miles, watching from a distance, felt a gnawing worry for his elder brother. He saw the furrowed brow, the hardened lines of Johan's face, a clear testament to the taxing endeavor he was embarking upon. Even in the soft glow of the lamplight, the dark circles under Johan's eyes were evident.
"Miles to Johan, do you copy?" he said, trying to infuse some levity into the tense atmosphere. When Johan simply glanced his way, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips before returning to his contemplation of the card, Miles knew he needed to intervene.
"Johan, take a break," he said, voice firm yet gentle. He didn't want to disrupt his brother's determination but he couldn't stand by and watch him deteriorate either.
In response, Johan merely shook his head, his gaze not leaving the card. "I can't, Miles. I need to understand this."
But as time wore on, Johan could feel his concentration wavering. Questions began to swarm his mind, like bees drawn to a flower. He found himself questioning his every move, his every decision. "Why can't I activate it? What am I missing?" His thoughts, usually his solace, were turning into his tormentors.
He held the card up, its surface catching the light. "What am I doing wrong?" he murmured, the words barely a whisper. The room was quiet, save for the sound of the clock ticking, each second a stark reminder of his lingering inability to unlock the card's potential.
As Johan sank deeper into his whirlpool of questions and doubts, Miles could only watch, a silent observer to his brother's struggles. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. All he could do was be there, a comforting presence in Johan's relentless quest for answers.
...
Just when despair seemed to cloud all judgment, a small glimmer of hope ignited within Johan. The flames of determination were not yet extinguished. He held the card up again, the object of his relentless struggle, and felt a surge of resolve. He would not be defeated. Not yet.
In the oppressive silence, the soft sound of Miles' laughter was like a healing balm. The boy had an innate knack for sensing Johan's mood and knew just when to step in. "You know," he began, his voice breaking the silence, "this reminds me of the time you tried to make that contraption to fetch us breakfast in bed."
Johan turned his attention towards Miles, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. The memory brought a faint smile to his face. "That was a disaster," he admitted, recalling how the contraption ended up spilling breakfast all over them.
Miles chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. But did that stop you from inventing? No, it didn't. You just laughed it off and said, 'Well, at least we have breakfast in bed!'"
Johan couldn't help but laugh at the memory, feeling a semblance of his stress fade away. His brother's analogy, as silly as it was, held a profound truth. He had faced failures before, and every time he had risen above them. This situation was no different. If he could laugh in the face of a breakfast disaster, he could face this too. He wouldn't give up. Not when he had come this far. Not when he had so much at stake.
As the room filled with the echoes of their laughter, a moment of shared understanding passed between the brothers.
...
As the moon hung low in the Jurica sky, casting long shadows across the room, Johan found himself unable to sleep. He lay in his bed, his mind ablaze with thoughts, each one spinning an intricate web of uncertainty and speculation. The silence of the night only seemed to amplify his introspection, leading him down a path of existential questions.
Why had he been transmigrated to this world? Was it a mere twist of fate, a random incident in the cosmos, or had someone - or something - deliberately sent him here? These questions haunted him, their answers eluding him in the dim light of the room.
His mind swirled with images of Earth, his home. Had he died there? Was his life as he remembered it over? If so, what was his purpose here, in this unfamiliar world filled with monsters and Card Masters? His gaze drifted towards the card on the bedside table, its mere existence a mystery that seemed to deepen with every passing moment.
He allowed himself to consider other possibilities. Could there be more worlds, more dimensions beyond the realm of his understanding? If such worlds did exist, did they too harbor life, their realities as unique and complex as his own? His mind reeled at the concept, the enormity of such a universe making him feel inconsequentially small.
Then, there was the Altar. The very place where he found himself after his sudden transition. It had gifted him with a card, a token that held inexplicable power. But why him? Why had the Altar chosen him? And was its choice truly random, or was there a purpose, a design behind it?
And finally, the most puzzling piece of the puzzle: the original host of his body. How had he died? Was it suicide, or had he attempted a sacrifice? Or was it something entirely different, an event or cause that Johan was yet to discover?
The questions seemed endless, each one giving birth to another, like an unfathomable maze with no exit in sight. But despite the overwhelming confusion, Johan couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration. This was his life now, this world filled with mysteries and challenges. And he was determined to uncover its secrets, one question at a time.
As the first rays of dawn began to seep through the window, Johan made a silent vow. He would seek answers. He would find his purpose. His journey was only just beginning.