Mauri Moore leaned against the counter of the convenience store, absentmindedly staring at the dull glow of the fluorescent lights. His hands idly tapped against the register, his mind drifting far beyond the confines of the store's cramped aisles and half-stocked shelves. He had always dreamed of something greater—the stars, the endless void of space, the feeling of being truly free. While others found comfort in the mundane cycle of life, he wanted to break free, to explore, to drift through the cosmos with nothing holding him down. Instead, here he was, ringing up energy drinks and instant noodles for tired office workers and high school kids with nowhere better to go.
The door swung open violently, snapping Mauri out of his thoughts. A man stormed inside, his body tense, his hands shaking. A black hoodie, a mouth mask, and a gun. The cliché was almost laughable, like something out of a cheap crime drama. The store wasn't even that busy—what kind of idiot tries to pull off a robbery in broad daylight? Still, Mauri felt his chest tighten as the gun-wielding man screamed at him, waving the weapon wildly.
"Empty the register! Now!" the man shouted, voice raw with desperation. Mauri swallowed hard and raised his hands, his body moving on autopilot as he stepped toward the register. This wasn't how his story was supposed to go. He had imagined his escape from this place countless times, but never like this. He wasn't supposed to be just another name in a news report, another victim in a crime no one would remember. But as he fumbled to open the register, a sharp snap filled the air—the elastic strap of the man's mask had broken, sending the fabric slipping down his face.
Panic. The man's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. Mauri had seen his face. For a second, they locked eyes—one frozen in fear, the other consumed by pure, thoughtless instinct. Then, before Mauri could react, before he could even fully process what was happening, the gun fired. A sharp, deafening crack split the air, followed by the sickening warmth blooming in his chest. His breath caught, his legs buckled, and the world around him blurred as he collapsed to the ground.
He gasped, fingers weakly pressing against the spreading stain of red on his uniform. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His thoughts, once filled with the vastness of space, now clung desperately to the fading remnants of consciousness. The ceiling lights flickered above him, their artificial glow dimming, distant—like the stars he had always longed for. And then, there was nothing.
.
.
.
.
Mauri drifted through the abyss, weightless, suspended in an ocean of darkness that stretched infinitely in every direction. There was no up, no down—only the sensation of floating, moving, yet never truly going anywhere. It felt like water, but without resistance, without weight. At first, he had panicked, thrashing against the void, but time had dulled his fear. There was nothing to fight against, nothing to grasp. Just him, alone, in endless silence.
He had no idea how long he had been here—days, months, years? Time didn't seem to matter anymore. He had given up counting, given up trying to measure something that had no end. He had screamed, pleaded, cursed whatever force had placed him here, but the void never answered back. Until something did.
A warmth—soft at first, then growing hotter—brushed against his back. It was foreign, alien, but alive. Mauri turned sharply, his movements effortless in the empty space, and there it was. A star. It pulsed gently, radiating golden light against the darkness, its glow flickering like a heartbeat. The first thing he had seen in five years. And, for the first time since arriving here, he wasn't alone.
Mauri spoke to the star. He had no mouth, no voice, yet somehow, it responded. It didn't speak in words, but in emotions, memories, pulses of thought that rippled through the void. They shared stories—his longing for freedom, his regrets, his dream of reaching the stars. The star, in turn, whispered to him in waves of sorrow and loneliness, as if it, too, had been waiting for someone to find it. They talked for eons, bound by isolation, by the shared burden of being forgotten.
But nothing lasted forever. The star began to change. Its once steady glow flared, pulsed erratically, growing larger and more unstable. Mauri didn't need to understand astrophysics to know what was happening—it was dying. The star had reached the end of its life, the build-up before the final explosion, a supernova. He could feel the pressure, the heat rising as it prepared to tear itself apart, to vanish in a burst of destruction and rebirth.
It didn't deserve to die alone. Without hesitation, Mauri reached forward, wrapping his arms around the blazing sphere, embracing it as if he could somehow keep it together. If it was going to die, then so would he. The heat seared through him, consuming everything, and for the second time, he surrendered to oblivion.
But then—light. Blinding, painful, real.
His eyes shot open, lungs burning as he gasped for breath. A ceiling. Fluorescent lights. A beeping monitor. His fingers twitched against crisp hospital sheets. A dull ache spread through his body, but he was here. Alive. Mauri Moore had died twice, yet somehow, impossibly, he had returned.
Mauri's eyes fluttered open, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling his nostrils. As he pushed himself up on the hospital bed, a translucent screen materialized before him, displaying:
"Welcome, Host. You have completed the quest: 'Value of Patience.'"
Heart racing, Mauri blinked, hoping the apparition would vanish. But the screen remained, its luminescent text unwavering. He reached out tentatively, fingers brushing through the projection without resistance. Panic bubbled within him. "What… what is this?" he muttered, voice trembling.
Before he could delve deeper into the mystery, the room's door creaked open. Two men, clad in identical black suits, entered with an air of authority. Their expressions were inscrutable, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. The taller of the two spoke first, his tone measured. "Mr. Rensei, we're here to discuss the incident you experienced in the double dungeon."
Mauri's brow furrowed in confusion. "Double dungeon? I… I don't know what you're talking about." His mind raced, trying to grasp the situation. And then it hit him—they had called him "Rensei." He chose to remain silent about the discrepancy, deciding it was wiser to listen.
The second man produced a sleek tablet, tapping its screen. "We've reason to believe you've undergone a reawakening. We'd like to conduct a few tests to assess your current abilities." Mauri nodded hesitantly, still grappling with the surreal turn of events.
The assessments were swift but thorough. Mauri followed their instructions, attempting to manifest any latent abilities. But each effort yielded nothing. The men exchanged glances, their initial interest waning. "It appears there's been a misunderstanding," the taller agent concluded. "We'll be in touch if anything changes." With that, they exited, leaving Mauri alone with his thoughts.
As the door clicked shut, the weight of the situation pressed down on him. His breaths grew shallow, vision narrowing as panic set in. "What's happening to me?" he gasped, clutching the bedsheets. Just then, the translucent screen flickered back to life, displaying a new message:
"Would you like to achieve your dreams?"
Tears blurred his vision as he stared at the prompt. "My dreams?" he whispered, a glimmer of hope piercing through his despair. Summoning what little courage he had left, Mauri reached out and selected "Yes." Instantly, a new quest appeared:
"Path to Salvation: Embrace the celestial power within and ascend to your true potential."
A sense of purpose ignited within him. Whatever this system was, it offered a chance—a chance to grasp the freedom he'd always yearned for among the stars and planets.