The skies above the Holy Empire's border town were a slate grey, heavy with the promise of rain. It began as a mere drizzle, soon transforming the countryside roads into treacherous mudslides. In this bleak setting, an old, low stone house sat tucked away in a forgotten corner of the town. Its dimly lit interior barely held off the gloom of the outside world.
"Resurrection, my dear uncle," whispered a delicate and thin young man, his voice imbued with a mix of hope and desperation. He stood before a simple wooden bed, his hands moving through the air with deliberate, practiced motions. The words that left his lips were part of an ancient and powerful spell, one that few dared to utter and even fewer understood.
On the bed lay a man, his features gaunt, his body still, and his skin an unnatural pallor of death. The young man's incantations grew more intense, invoking the "Great Lord of Hell" to pardon this lost soul and permit his passage back across the mythical River Styx.
As the spell reached its crescendo, a voice, of someone nagging, echoed in the stale air of the room, seeping into the consciousness of the deceased. Jason Todd, the young man, felt a sudden rush of disorientation, his mind awash with confusion and a bizarre heaviness that made thought nearly impossible.
"I feel so dizzy," Jason thought, struggling to piece together his last memories. He remembered the hospital, the solitude of the operating room, the expectation of waking up to the sterile environment post-surgery. But this? This was something out of a nightmare. "A circumcision shouldn't require this much anesthesia," he mused, panic rising as he realized his inability to move even a finger.
Calling out for a nurse brought no response, only the realization that his current predicament was far beyond any medical explanation. As memories foreign and yet intimately familiar began to flood his mind, Jason underwent a tumultuous transition, merging his own consciousness with that of Yule, the body's original owner.
Yule's life story unfolded like a tragic life live movie before him. A once-prosperous young man, Yule had seen his family's business crumble and his fortunes dwindle to nothing, leaving him destitute and crippled at the hands of merciless loan sharks. His existence had been reduced to selling oysters, a stark contrast to his once ambitious dreams.
And yet, despite the hardships and humiliations, Yule had persevered. His life, though marred by loss and pain, had been a testament to his resilience. That was until a band of mercenaries, led by a formidable wolf woman, had come to plunder what little he had left.
The encounter with the wolf woman, a creature as fearsome as she was mesmerizing, had sparked something within Yule. Perhaps it was the loneliness that had gnawed at him for so long, or maybe it was the sheer absurdity of his situation, but he had found the courage to speak to her, to reach out across the chasm of their differences.
As Jason's mind settled into its new home, he could not help but marvel at the journey that had led him here. From a modern operating table to the bed of a dead man in a world so vastly different from his own, the adventure was just beginning.
The stench of decay and the sharp tang of blood filled the small, dimly lit room. Yule, now Jason, had been reduced to nothing more than a corpse, an unfortunate soul whose last encounter with life had been as brutal as it was brief. The irony of his situation was not lost on him; a good young man in his own right, whose most nefarious deed had been the reporting of unsavory websites during an era of enlightenment, had found himself cast across the fabric of time into the body of a man whose luck had run dry.
"How miserable!" Jason lamented internally, feeling a deep sorrow for the pitiful end Yule had met. The thought of having traversed through time, only to inherit such a dismal fate, was almost too much to bear. "All this intelligence and potential, and for what? To be a dead man with not even a whisper of a chance to turn things around?"
In his desperation, Jason's thoughts raced. "Is there no cheat in this world? No mystical system, no all-knowing guide, nothing to aid me in this dire situation?" He cried out in the silence of his mind, yearning for some form of salvation.
"Resurrection! My uncle Yule!" The declaration came once more from Philippe, the thin boy standing vigil by the bed. The earnestness in his voice pierced the gloom of the room, a beacon of hope in the overwhelming darkness.
"What a classic line," Jason mused with a mix of cynicism and amusement, even as he pieced together the identity of the boy. Philippe, Yule's nephew, had shown him kindness and concern unmatched by any other in Yule's life. Despite his own hardships, Philippe had remained a steadfast presence, offering support in whatever way he could.
Before Yule's untimely demise, Philippe had knelt beside his bed, with deep sorrow in his eyes, clutching his uncle's hand as he vowed to defy the laws of nature and bring him back from the clutches of death. To Jason, Philippe's vow sounded like the plot of a clichéd tale, where the power of love and determination triumphs against all odds. "He'll learn about the harsh realities soon enough," Jason thought, skeptical of the boy's abilities.
Magic, though a reality in this new world, was not a skill easily mastered, especially not by a child of humble beginnings, often dismissed as a fool. The odds of Philippe wielding such powerful magic were slim, and yet...
With a gasp that shattered the stillness, Jason's body jerked to life, his lungs expanding with the sweet agony of breath. "Successful!" Philippe exclaimed, his face alight with wonder and disbelief. "The magic in the half-torn notebook was real!"
Alive. The word echoed in Jason's mind, a concept so foreign yet so fiercely desired. He was breathing, moving, living. With a sudden burst of energy, he sat up, his eyes wide open in astonishment. The room, once a tomb, was now the stage of a miracle.
Philippe's joy was palpable, but for Jason, the reality of his resurrection brought with it a deluge of questions and possibilities. What magic had wrought this change? What fate awaited him in this new life? And what role would Philippe, the boy now his nephew, play in the unfolding story?
As he sat there, newly revived, Jason knew one thing for certain: his journey in this world had only just begun, and it promised to be nothing short of extraordinary.
Jason, now a skeleton, could hardly believe the turn of events. His laughter had been cut short by Philippe's scream, a sound so sharp and terrified that it reverberated through the stone walls of the dimly lit room. The boy's horror was palpable, and as Jason attempted to reassure him, a chilling realization dawned upon him. The sensation of water dripping was not imagined; it was the very flesh of his body, melting away to reveal the stark whiteness of bone beneath.
Philippe, once filled with hope and determination, now sat on the ground, his face a mask of sheer terror. "Skeleton monster, Uncle Yule..." he stammered, unable to reconcile the loving uncle he knew with the creature before him.
Jason mind raced. "Is this your resurrection magic, Philip?" he wondered aloud, aghast at his new form. Yet, as he struggled to come to terms with his skeletal existence, something unexpected appeared before his eyes: a panel, reminiscent of the fantasy novels he had read in his previous life.
[Skeleton monster lv1]
[Strength: 0.2] [Agility: 0.4] [Physique: 0.3] [Freedom points: 0] [Danger index: 0]
The realization that he was now part of a system, albeit as a level 1 skeleton with stats far below that of an average adult male, was both a shock and a source of relief. "At least I'm not completely powerless," Jason mused, his mind already racing with possibilities. "And I have a panel, a cheat in this new world. Time to level up and see where this journey takes me."
His initial dismay at the poor stats quickly turned into determination. "I need to increase these experience points," Jason thought, pondering his next moves. But as he was about to strategize his path to gaining strength and perhaps, a way to regain his flesh, the unexpected occurred, pulling Jason away from his thoughts and back into the immediate and unpredictable reality of his new life.
Outside the decrepit stone house, the sound of footsteps approached, heavy and foreboding. Jason, with his newly acquired skeletal senses, could feel the vibrations through the ground. Philippe, still on the floor, looked up with wide eyes, fear replaced by curiosity and a hint of newfound resolve.
"Uncle, what do we do?" Philippe's voice trembled visibly shaking with fear avidant in his eyes. Jason, despite his skeletal form, felt a surge of protectiveness towards his nephew. "We'll face whatever comes, together," he declared, his voice a hollow echo in the room. "And we'll find a way to fix this, I promise."
As the door to their shelter creaked open, revealing the silhouette of their next challenge, Jason and Philippe prepared to confront their fate, united in their resolve. The adventure was far from over; in fact, it had just taken a turn into the realms of the truly fantastical.