Book 1 - Venture into Eternity, Reclaim the Star's Embrace
CHAPTER 1 - Dying Twice, Living Again
The neon lights of the city flickered against the rain-slicked streets, casting distorted reflections in the puddles beneath towering skyscrapers. Somewhere in the shadows, beyond the prying eyes of surveillance drones and the ever-present hum of digital life, a man lay dying.
Ken gasped for breath, pressing a trembling hand against his abdomen. Blood—warm and sticky—seeped through his fingers, staining his gray hoodie a dark crimson. His vision wavered, the once-sharp cityscape around him melting into a haze of neon streaks.
"How...?"
The betrayal was swift, merciless. One moment, he had been sitting in his high-rise apartment, overlooking the sprawling megacity, sipping on whiskey as he planned his next move in Eden Prime. The next, his door had burst open. Shadows moved with surgical precision, their blades finding him before he could even react.
He had fought back—of course he had. The same cunning that had made him a legend in Eden Prime carried over into the real world. He had dodged, countered, even managed to take one of them down. But there were too many. Too prepared.
Now, here he was, stumbling through the shadows like a dying animal, his fingers slick with blood as he clutched his side. His body felt foreign, sluggish, as though it no longer belonged to him.
Footsteps echoed behind him. Steady. Unhurried.
Ken forced himself forward, but his strength was failing. His knees buckled, and he collapsed against a damp brick wall, gasping. The alley was silent, save for the distant hum of the city.
The footsteps stopped.
A figure loomed in the darkness beyond the streetlights, their features obscured. A distorted voice—mechanical, emotionless—spoke just loud enough for him to hear.
"It's done."
Then, the figure turned and vanished into the night.
Ken tried to speak, but only a strangled cough escaped his lips. He slumped forward, the world tilting. The cold seeped into his skin, and for the first time in years, fear gripped him.
He had spent his entire life clawing his way to the top, outplaying enemies, building a name feared by millions.
Who did this? Why?
His vision blurred.
And then—light.
A brilliant radiance, foreign yet familiar, engulfed him. The pain receded. The city, the rain, the blood—all of it faded as gravity abandoned him.
He was falling.
Ken opened his eyes. His senses returned, but everything was wrong.
He was no longer in the alley. No longer bleeding, no longer dying. Instead, he stood, floating above a vast, endless ocean, black as the void. The sky stretched infinitely above, a swirling abyss of darkness punctuated by shifting stars. The air was still. The silence absolute.
Then, the mirrors rose.
One by one, they emerged from the water's surface, their smooth, reflective surfaces gleaming unnaturally—thousands of them, forming a great shifting sphere around him. Their reflections shimmered, each displaying different moments of his life.
His childhood.
His first login into Eden Prime.
His first victory in Eden Prime.
The moment he had created his guild.
The night he took his guild to the top ten.
The moment his world came crashing down.
His breath quickened. What is this?
Ken's breath caught as he turned in place, surrounded by an endless array of memories. Then, one mirror stood out. Unlike the others, its surface shimmered, and within it, he saw himself—not as the feared and respected leader of Eden Prime, but as a younger version, fresh-faced and hopeful, the day he first logged into Eden Prime. His younger self stared back at him, full of naive ambition.
The mirror drew closer, its surface rippling like liquid silver.
His fingers twitched. An inexplicable pull urged him to reach out.
But before he could touch it, the world shook.
The ocean churned violently beneath him, waves rising like grasping hands. The sky, once a deep void, turned an ominous shade of crimson. A crack like thunder tore through the silence, and from the depths of the water, something rose.
Then—he appeared.
Another figure rose from the ocean's depths.
It was him.
Or rather—another him.
At first, he was unconscious, suspended in the air by unseen forces. His face—Ken's face—was eerily familiar yet utterly different. His presence was overwhelming—stronger and purer, radiating something beyond comprehension that made Ken's very soul tremble.
Chains shot out from the ocean, wrapping around Ken's limbs before he could react. He struggled, thrashing against the restraints, but the bindings held firm, searing into his soul. The water below seethed as if responding to his anger.
The floating figure, the other him—stirred.
His eyes opened.
And in them was an unfathomable, ancient power.
Ken's struggles ceased as those glowing eyes locked onto his.
Then, in a voice that was not entirely his own, ancient and absolute, he spoke a single word, resonating across the boundless realm.
"Sleep."
Power rippled through the void, crashing over Ken like an unstoppable tide. Ken's struggles ceased and his body went slack.. His consciousness wavered, the weight of something greater pressing down on him. The chains tightened, and before darkness overtook him, he saw was his own reflection in the approaching mirror—before everything turned to white.
Then—nothing.
The other Ken stepped forward, untouched by the bindings.
He reached out.
And as his fingers touched the mirror—
Light engulfed him.
And he vanished.
A voice called out to him.
Soft yet firm, familiar yet distant. A voice from the past—one he had long buried alongside the pain of loss.
"Ken! Wake up, you'll be late!"
His eyelids twitched. His breathing slowed.
That voice…
His heart clenched. That voice shouldn't exist anymore. It had been gone for years, lost to time and memory. He wanted to answer, but his throat tightened. A strange pressure weighed on him, as if the world itself had shifted under his feet.
Then, another voice—louder this time, filled with impatience.
"Ken! I swear, if you don't wake up now—"
The door creaked open.
A woman stood in the doorway, framed by the morning light. Her silver-streaked hair was tied neatly in a bun, and the sharp yet kind eyes behind her glasses bore into him with a mix of exasperation and expectation.
Ken's breath hitched.
"Grandma…?"
He shot up from the bed, his heartbeat a deafening roar in his ears. His vision blurred, his thoughts scattering like fallen leaves in the wind. He could feel his fingers trembling, yet he didn't care. He had to touch her—to confirm that she was real.
He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her.
Warm. Solid. Alive.
Tears welled in his eyes. He had spent years regretting not spending more time with her before she passed, hating how life had taken her from him. Yet here she was, standing before him, her warmth bleeding into his skin.
"O-Oi, what's this now?" His grandmother stiffened, flabbergasted. Ken had never acted like this before.
She cleared her throat, composing herself. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but hugging me won't excuse you from school."
Ken didn't reply. He couldn't. His mind was in turmoil.
Why was she here? She had died. He remembered the funeral, the grief, the emptiness that followed. But this—this was real. He could hear her heartbeat, feel the softness of the fabric of her clothes, smell the faint scent of tea and old books.
This isn't right.
A sharp pain stabbed into his skull.
Suddenly, memories—not his own—flooded his mind.
A sea of unfamiliar images flashed before his eyes.
A roaring crowd. Hands grasping someone else's in triumph. The hum of an airplane cabin. The sudden jolt of turbulence. A massive, towering door bathed in light.
Then—darkness.
Ken clutched his head, gritting his teeth. He tried to focus, to grab onto something familiar, but the memories were fragmented, slipping through his fingers like sand. Who… am I?
"Ken? Are you okay?" His grandmother's voice pulled him back to reality.
He looked up, forcing a smile. "Yeah… I just had a weird dream, that's all."
She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Well, hurry up. You'll be late."
Ken nodded absentmindedly. As he watched her walk away, a nagging sense of dissonance lingered in his chest.
Steam rose in wisps around him as warm water cascaded down his back. Ken stood motionless in the shower, hands braced against the tiled wall. The dull ache in his skull had subsided, but the unease remained.
He had memories of this life—his childhood, his school, his friends, his grandmother raising him while his parents worked abroad. He could recall every detail of his daily routine, the streets he walked, the stores he visited.
And yet…
It all feels fake.
Like an intricate illusion, too perfect yet fundamentally wrong. His instincts—his mannerisms—felt too aligned with this body. As if he had always lived here. As if everything before waking up today had been nothing more than a dream.
Ken clenched his fists.
"Am I going crazy?" he muttered under his breath. "Is this… some kind of psychosis? A mental disorder?"
No. That didn't feel right either.
Something happened before he woke up here. He could feel it, even if the details were buried.
He shut his eyes, trying to reach for the missing pieces. A sensation brushed against his mind—chains tightening, an ocean of darkness, a mirror reflecting a life not his own.
Then—nothing.
Damn it.
With a deep breath, he forced the thoughts away. Right now, all he could do was follow the rhythm of this life—at least until he figured out the truth.
Breakfast was uneventful. Ken's grandmother muttered something about eating more, while he absentmindedly nodded through the conversation. He barely tasted the food. His thoughts were elsewhere.
When he left the house, the world greeted him with a strange familiarity. The sky was a pale blue, the morning air crisp and cool. He walked the path he had always taken to school.
Yet each step felt unnatural.
The faces around him were familiar, but they stirred nothing in him. The streets, the buildings, the shops—everything was where it should be, but instead of comfort, all he felt was disconnect.
It was as if he were a stranger in his own life.
As he neared the school gates, a single thought haunted him.
Is this really my life? Or am I just playing a role I don't remember signing up for?
TO BE CONTINUED…