I often found myself plagued by a single thought:
Am I destined to fail?
At just shy of thirty, I had yet to shake off this disheartening belief. Growing up, I had ambitious goals and dreams just like anyone else. I imagined marrying a beautiful woman, accumulating wealth, and collecting rare artifacts. One of those dreams materialized the day I was accepted into the best university in my country, filled with aspirations for success and hopes of finding love for the first time.
As a child, I believed my future would mirror that of my father and sister, both figures I deeply admired. They were embodiments of success, honor, and fame. But unlike them, I lacked the inherent talent that propelled them forward. While they soared effortlessly through life, I found myself struggling to achieve even modest milestones.
Throughout generations, my family produced esteemed scientists, celebrated graduates, and renowned doctors. In the long history of our lineage, spanning over four generations, not a single child had failed to find success before turning twenty-four. One cousin had even risen to prominence by twenty-six, traveling the world and receiving job offers that most could only dream of.
Yet there I was, a mere twenty-five when I graduated from university in the biomedical field, finally achieving a feat that, under different circumstances, any diligent fool could manage. My siblings, witnessing my hard-earned success, despised me for my struggles, pushing me further into isolation as I fought to carve out my own life.
But it wasn't that I lacked talent. Not at all.
After leaving my family, I discovered an unexpected gift: I possessed a remarkable talent for data analysis. This newfound skill secured me a lucrative job, fulfilling one of my childhood desires. By chance, I became a disciple of a brilliant scientist, and after three years of rigorous training, it felt as if luck had finally smiled upon me.
I was on a promising trajectory to become a significant figure in the scientific community. Being a recognized scientist was a dream for many, but it came with its own set of burdens. I also discovered that I had a gift for communication, earning the respect of my peers whenever I presented my research.
Yet, as I embarked on a repetitive career in a well-paying company, I began to wonder whether this was truly the life I wanted. The monotony began to gnaw at me, raising questions about my true desires and whether I was merely trying to please others.
After realizing that some of my choices were made with others in mind rather than myself, I felt a growing sense of boredom and resentment. By the time I turned twenty-nine, I finally opened my eyes to the people surrounding me: a boss intent on exploiting my talents without fair compensation, a family that only cared about their own achievements.
In search of solace, I turned to novels I found online—stories of individuals who overcame similar struggles and embraced lives filled with adventure and excitement. Through these stories, I noticed a disturbing trend in my own life: people worked themselves to the bone for status, families prioritized material wealth over emotional well-being, and societal rules stifled individuality.
After analyzing these patterns, I came to a painful conclusion: this world was rotten. It was a place where self-interest ruled, and the pursuit of fulfilling others' expectations led to a hollow existence.
If I continued down this path for ten more years, I would gain recognition, but at what cost? All that remained was the ambition to become the best scientist and earn the validation I so desperately sought from my family, who had cast me aside.
"It seems I really am destined for failure."
In a moment of despair, I spat blood. An accident in the laboratory had resulted in a catastrophic explosion, and I had been forced to work overtime. Death loomed over me, and I realized I hadn't even had a chance to enjoy my newfound reputation or reconnect with my family.
As I slipped into unconsciousness, memories and regrets flooded my mind. I could only bitterly accept this absurd end. I had just completed my research and collapsed from exhaustion—what a ridiculous death! I wanted to scream in frustration at the injustice, but all that escaped my blood-soaked lips was a delirious laugh.
I stood at death's door, utterly alone. Neither my mentor nor my estranged family was by my side.
Why had the heavens bothered to grant me a chance only to snatch it away so quickly?
And then, I closed my eyes.
Though I felt no lingering attachments, I was consumed by regret. As I faded away, I found myself awakening in a tranquil space filled with silence and light. Before me lay a fantastical world, vibrant and alive with colors I had never imagined.
In this realm, ancient forests swayed under the whispers of magical creatures, towering mountains held the secrets of forgotten gods, and cities thrived with diverse races—elves, dwarves, and beings I had only read about in stories. Yet, beneath its beauty, I sensed an undercurrent of danger; my family's stability was precarious, threatened by the chaotic forces shaping this world.
Determined to avoid the mistakes of my past, I took a step toward the door that promised a new beginning, feeling an irresistible pull from the fantastical world before me. Just as I crossed the threshold, darkness enveloped me, and everything went black.