Tanner stood in the dark void, the weightless sensation making him feel disconnected from reality. He glanced around, but there was nothing—no walls, no floor, no sky. Just endless darkness stretching in every direction.
He took a shaky breath and muttered to himself, "I died… didn't I?" His voice echoed, the sound fading into the emptiness. "This is it. This is the end."
Tanner frowned, running a hand through his hair. "But… this doesn't feel like heaven. Not exactly the pearly gates I was expecting."
A chill ran down his spine, and he hugged himself. "Is this… hell? Did I… did I mess up that badly? Was I the bad guy?" He shook his head, trying to push away the thought. "No, I wasn't… I was a good guy! Right?"
As he wrestled with his thoughts, a sudden memory hit him like a bolt of lightning. His eyes widened in horror, and he yelled, his voice filled with dramatic despair, "MY MOBILE GAMES!!!"
The shout echoed endlessly in the void as Tanner fell to his knees, clutching his head. "No! No, no, no! All that progress! All those hours! My Galactic Warlord rank! Gone!"
He let out a strangled sob, tears streaming down his face. "I never even unlocked the final boss… I didn't finish the event missions…" Tanner's voice broke as he whispered, "All those daily logins… wasted."
The pain of his loss hit him harder than the bullet that had taken him down. He buried his face in his hands, rocking back and forth. "Why? Why did it have to end like this? I wasn't ready!"
He sniffled, lifting his head to stare into the void. "What's the point of it all? Saving the world, being a hero… if I can't even finish my mobile games?" His voice rose into another wail of despair. "I'm not even connected to Wi-Fi here!"
For a moment, he sat in silence, his shoulders slumping. Then he let out a weak laugh, wiping his face. "Man, I'm pathetic. Crying about games when I'm literally dead." He sighed, his breath shaky. "But still… I really wish I had one last chance to play."
The void remained silent, as if mocking his lament. Tanner sighed again and muttered, "This better not be hell. If it is, it's the cruelest version I could've imagined."
Tanner stood frozen in the dark void, his tears drying as a sudden brightness appeared in the distance. A brilliant white light began to grow, illuminating the endless black. His heart raced as he took a step back.
"What's that?" he said, his voice trembling. The light grew closer, and Tanner's dramatic instincts kicked in. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not ready to die again! Not as a ghost!"
He turned, but the void offered no escape. "Where am I even supposed to go? There's literally nowhere!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. The light was almost upon him now, and with a resigned groan, Tanner squeezed his eyes shut.
The light hit him, warm and overwhelming, and then… silence.
When Tanner opened his eyes, he was staring at a plain white ceiling. He blinked several times, his mind scrambling to process the sudden change. Slowly, he sat up, looking around. He was lying on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room.
"That… was a weird dream," Tanner muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. Then, dramatically, he exclaimed, "I need to cut out the beer and the all-nighters on my mobile games!"
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking around the room. It was simple but strange, with furniture that seemed… off. The colors were muted, the shapes unfamiliar. "Huh," he said, scratching the back of his head. "This doesn't look like my place. But whatever."
Tanner stretched and began walking toward what he assumed was the bathroom. But he froze mid-step when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Slowly, he turned to face it, his eyes narrowing as he studied the figure staring back at him.
Silver hair. Grey eyes. The face of a stranger. He stepped closer, his hands trembling, and touched the mirror. The reflection mimicked him perfectly. His voice broke as he whispered, "That's… me?"
Panic overtook him, and he stumbled back, tripping over the bed. "That's me?!" he shouted, his voice rising in pitch. He scrambled to his feet and began running around the room, his hands clutching his head. "What's going on?! What is this?!"
He paused, staring at the mirror again, his reflection looking just as panicked as he felt. "This has to be some kind of joke," Tanner muttered. Then, dramatically, he yelled, "I'm losing my mind! Someone help me!"
The room remained silent, offering no answers to his frantic pleas. Tanner collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts raced. "What's happening to me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. The unfamiliar reflection in the mirror continued to haunt him as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation he found himself in.
Tanner held his head, groaning dramatically. "What is happening? This can't be real!" He stumbled back toward the bed, clutching his temples as a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly shot through his skull.
"Ahhh! It hurts!" Tanner yelled, collapsing to his knees. "What is this?!" The pain was overwhelming, as if something was forcibly shoving its way into his brain.
Then, the visions began.
Flashes of memories, images, and sensations that weren't his own flooded his mind. He saw a man standing on a spaceship deck, barking orders to a team of heavily armed soldiers. A woman with fiery red hair handed him a blaster, her face etched with determination. The scene shifted to him piloting a sleek spacecraft, dodging laser fire with precision. More memories came—a family sitting around a modest dinner table, laughter echoing in the small room. A younger version of the man working tirelessly in a grimy workshop, assembling a weapon from scraps.
Tanner gritted his teeth, his voice barely a whisper. "Who… who is this?"
The answer came to him in a rush of clarity. "Ray Fox," he muttered. "This guy's name is Ray Fox."
The memories intensified, filling in details. Ray was 24 years old, a skilled space mercenary working for a renowned mercenary company. The name of the company hit Tanner like a lightning bolt. "Wait…" he said, his breath hitching. "No way."
It was the Starblade Vanguard, the same company from his favorite mobile game. "No freaking way!" Tanner yelled, standing up and pacing. "I… I'm in my game? This… this is insane!"
More memories surged forward, overwhelming him. He remembered missions Ray had gone on—raiding enemy ships, defending colonies, and escorting VIPs across dangerous star systems. He saw the faces of the mercenary company's leader and her seven companions, the heroines of the game. Each of them had unique skills and personalities, and Tanner had spent hours strategizing with them in the game's menus.
"They're real?" Tanner said, his voice filled with disbelief. "I'm in their world. I'm… a mob character?"
The realization hit him hard. Ray Fox wasn't a main character. He was a background mercenary, a side figure who showed up in missions but never played a significant role in the game's story. Ray worked diligently in the company, providing support to the protagonist and the heroines. He was skilled but never stepped into the spotlight.
As more memories poured in, Tanner saw Ray's life before the company. Ray had grown up on a small, dusty planet with a loving family. His parents ran a repair shop, and Ray had inherited their knack for fixing and building things. He saw Ray's younger siblings, their faces beaming with pride when he left for his first mercenary job.
Tanner sat back on the bed, overwhelmed. "This guy had a whole life," he said softly. "A family… dreams… a career." His hands trembled as he looked down at them. They weren't his hands anymore; they were Ray's.
He shook his head, trying to process it all. "Okay, so I'm in my favorite mobile game. Cool. But… I'm not the protagonist. I'm not even important. I'm just a side character. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
The memories continued to play in his mind, painting a vivid picture of Ray's life in the Starblade Vanguard. He saw himself—or rather, Ray—handling maintenance, coordinating supply drops, and occasionally joining missions as backup. He wasn't a hero, but he was dependable, someone the team could always count on.
Tanner groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Why couldn't I just wake up as the protagonist? Or one of the heroines? Hell, even the villain would've been better than this!" He paused, then sighed. "Guess I'll have to figure this out. But first… I need to not freak out."
He glanced at the mirror again, the silver-haired man staring back at him. "Ray Fox," he said aloud, testing the name. It felt strange yet familiar. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Alright, Ray. Let's see what kind of mess I've gotten myself into."
Tanner sat on the bed, still trying to process the flood of memories when, suddenly, a glowing red screen appeared in front of his face. The vivid display floated mid-air, startling him so much that he fell backward onto the mattress.
"What the…?!" Tanner yelled, flailing slightly. "What is this? A status screen? Why is this here?"
He cautiously leaned forward, his eyes scanning the screen. It looked like something ripped straight out of a video game. His confusion deepened as he read through the information laid out in a neat, vertical list:
Status Screen
Name: Ray Fox (Tanner Green in past life)
Age: 24
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Mercenary
Occupation: Space Engineer / Combat Specialist
Nicknames: "Silver Hawk," "The Backup Ace"
Health Points (HP): 1,200/1,200
Strength: 90
Agility: 100
Attack Power: 95
Intelligence: 80
Luck: 60
Speed: 95
Stamina: 85
Defense: 70
Charm: 40
Skills and Abilities
Normal Skills:
Advanced Piloting
Weapon Maintenance
Negotiation
Engineering Mastery
First Aid Expertise
Stealth Techniques
Explosives Handling
Hand-to-Hand Combat
Swordsmanship Mastery
Gun Mastery
Combat Specialist
Martial Artist
Gaming Proficiency
Multitasking Mastery
Memorization Boost
Tech Savvy
Ability Skills:
Tactical Awareness
Enhanced Reflexes
Shield Deployment
Combat Intuition
Dual Weapon Proficiency
Situational Adaptability
Unique Skill:
Soulbound Memory Transfer: Retain skills and knowledge from a past life.
Equipment
Items:
Portable Repair Kit
Ration Packs
Universal Keycard
Enhanced Tactical Map
Weapons:
Plasma Saber (Custom)
Dual Shock Pistols
Long-Range Energy Rifle
Tactical Knife
Tanner stared, slack-jawed. "This… this is insane," he muttered. "My gaming skills actually came with me? And… I'm apparently some kind of badass combat specialist now?"
He scrolled back up to the top, rereading every detail. "Wait… Silver Hawk? Backup Ace? What kind of nicknames are these? And why is this… so detailed?" His voice grew louder as his disbelief turned to bewildered laughter. "What even is 'Charm' supposed to do?"
The screen blinked softly, as if waiting for him to act. Tanner reached out to touch it, and his hand passed through the display harmlessly. "Okay, so… what do I do with this?"
He glanced at the "Unique Skill" section again. "Soulbound Memory Transfer," he muttered. "Does that mean I've got everything I was good at back in my old life?"
A grin spread across his face. "Well, if this world runs on stats and skills, then maybe being a gaming nerd and a combat specialist isn't the worst thing in the universe." He leaned back on the bed, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "Still weird, though. Guess I'd better figure out what to do with all of this."
The red screen faded slightly but remained in his peripheral vision, ready to be summoned whenever he needed it. Tanner—or rather, Ray Fox—had a lot to figure out, but at least he wasn't starting completely from scratch.