I fix my gaze upon the inky-black expanse above, where shimmering stars pass judgment upon me. Gradually, a numbness envelops my entire being, and a crimson hue seeps into my sight. I muster one final effort to shift my body, yet it yields no response.
I lie sprawled amidst a pool of my blood, the cacophony of panicked voices and cries for help enveloping me as my vision fades into obscurity.
Strangely, I find a sense of serenity.
In my seventeen years of existence, I am on the cusp of freedom, or so it seems. But...
Fate, it appears, has an entirely different design for me.
The clamour of the surroundings abruptly dissipates, replaced by a chorus of stunned gasps reverberating in my ears.
As my consciousness teeters on the brink, I catch a faint voice exclaim, "Quick! Someone, fetch the healer!"
Then, at last, darkness claims me.
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My eyelids parted, and before me, stretched the vast expanse of a cerulean sky. A sweeping glance revealed little else but scattered clouds, leaving me to contemplate the boundless azure that extended in every direction.
Gazing down at my form, I discovered that all my prior injuries had miraculously vanished.
Intrigued, I attempted to mobilize any part of my body, only to realize that I possessed the ability to move freely as if I could effortlessly glide through space with nothing more than my thoughts.
Out of nowhere, a vivid blue screen materialized before me.
[Awaiting your class selection.]
'Class?' Confusion gripped me. I attempted to shift my gaze to the side, yet the screen stubbornly clung to my view, never wavering.
I extended my hand, making contact with the screen.
The options before me were as follows:
[Warrior: Experts in combat, unflinching in the midst of peril.
Mage: Masters of arcane arts, wielding magic with grace and precision.
Rogue: Crafty and agile, adept in the ways of stealth and subterfuge.
Cleric: Devoted healers and guardians, bound by a pledge to uphold virtue.
Paladin: Holy knights, champions of justice and valour.
Ranger: Lithe and sharp-sighted, seasoned in the secrets of the wilderness.]
I pondered the choices before me, each class representing a unique path and destiny. The screen seemed to pulse with energy as if waiting for my decision.
Hesitation gripped me as my hand hovered over the screen. The choices in front of me were significant, and uncertainty loomed.
After a moment of reflection, I touched the icon that resonated most with my inner spirit.Â
As I selected the warrior class, the screen expanded to reveal a deeper layer of choices within it. It seemed the path of a warrior was not a singular one, but a rich tapestry of specialized sub-classes, each offering its unique set of skills and abilities.
[Swordmaster: Masters of blade combat, wielding swords with unparalleled finesse.
Berserker: Frenzied warriors who tap into primal rage for unmatched strength.
Knight: Honorable defenders, clad in armour, protecting others with unwavering loyalty.
Gladiator: Showmen of the arena, fighting for glory and the adoration of the crowd.
Archer: Marksmen of precision, skilled in long-range combat with bows and arrows.
Battlemage: Warriors who blend magic and weaponry for versatile offence and defence.]
My initial confusion deepened as I realized the multitude of choices within the warrior class.
After a thoughtful moment of contemplation, I decided to tread the honourable path of the Knight. The screen responded with a subtle glow around the Knight's emblem, confirming my choice.
Moments slipped away, and as swiftly as it had appeared, the screen vanished.
Before I could even comprehend the abrupt turn of events, darkness descended upon me, and I lost consciousness.
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Strolling down the bustling street, I weaved my way through the throngs of people. Occasionally, an inadvertent collision occurred, an everyday occurrence in the urban shuffle.Â
My pace quickened, a silent acknowledgement that I was running a tad behind schedule.
Approaching the crosswalk, my eyes widened as I witnessed a child darting recklessly into the path of an oncoming truck, its horn blaring in a cacophonous warning. It was as though my body shifted into autopilot mode, responding instinctively.
Inexplicably and without pause, my hand seized the child's clothing, propelling them safely back to where I had stood moments before.
And then the truck hit me.