Darkness.
Absolute, endless, all-consuming darkness.
I can't feel the body. Only emptiness covering consciousness.
Am I dead?
The last thing I remember... my experiment.
I tried to go beyond the limits of the possible, changing the structure of my own brain. Artificially develop the supermind, overcome the limitations of humanity.
But something went wrong.
Some kind of failure. Mistake. Sudden overload.
And... that's it.
I'm dead.
But then... what is it?
The darkness is slowly dissipating. I feel the weight returning to the body.
Body?
The feeling is strange, alien. As if it's not my body, but I'm inside it.
Suddenly, the mind is pierced by streams of memories. They gushed like a powerful waterfall that overwhelmed the mind.
Draven Valmort.
This is not my name. But now it belongs to me.
Fragments of someone else's life flash before your eyes. Bright flashes of pain, murder, misunderstandings, past, resentment, revenge. I feel his hatred, tragic childhood and much more.
And finally, his death.
The death I intercepted.
- Huh...
A quiet, hoarse exhalation came out of my lips.
I slowly opened my eyes.
In front of me are stone walls covered with patterns of magical symbols. Shelves stuffed with ancient books. Zions, manuscripts, magic tools.
This is... a laboratory.
Draven Walmort's secret laboratory.
The heart is pounding loudly in the chest.
Memories merge into a single picture. This world... I know it.
"The Fall Of Civilization".
Game.
"A dark and cruel world filled with magic and war in the Empire. There are powerful dark organizations, demon cults, followers of the Abyss, as well as many terrible monsters and demons. Chaos, darkness, Abyss and destruction reign everywhere. There are many strong people living in this world - and all this is only a small part of dark fantasy."
And I found myself in the body of a third-rate character.
No, not even a third-rate one. Draven Valmort was a pathetic, worthless mention that was laughed at before forgetting.
But now... he's me.
I can hardly raise my hand and look at it.
Pale skin, long thin fingers.
I notice a mirror on the table and turn around.
A tall guy with dark purple hair looks in the reflection.
His skin is pale, almost unearthly, as if carved from cold marble. Clear, chiseled facial features were perfect, but he had more than just beauty. It was empty.
A face deprived of life, deprived of weaknesses. It carried the cold, dispassionate greatness of something that is beyond human understanding.
Like a statue of an ancient deity, whose essence has long lost the meaning of such trifles as pity, anger or joy.
And... his eyes.
Deep, bottomless muds of purple radiance, in the gloomy depths of which scarlet reflections were smoldering - dull, ominous, like fire, devouring the last remnants of life.
There was no anger or mercy in them - only emptiness, cold indifference, behind which the abyss was hidden. It was not just a look - it was an abyss, into which, if you looked, you couldn't get out.
The shadows around his eyes made his appearance even more gloomy, as if death itself had left its mark on him.
He didn't look angry or cruel - he just was.
Like eternal night, like endless cold, like a shadow in which all living things disappear.
He didn't threaten. He didn't have to be threatened.
Only his shadow could make the weak tremble, one look - deprive them of will, and one word - make death a deliverance.
I blink.
So... analysis.
I moved a second before Draven's death.
He died as a result of a ritual that got out of control.
He tried to awaken the dark force to overcome the limits in order to reach the third rank. Then he tried to increase the limit of the use of the Grimoire of the Abyssal Void with the help of forbidden rituals, formations and dark magic.
And he died.
But now I'm in his body.
I sigh deeply and sit down on a chair, leaning my elbows on the table.
This world is a reality.
My consciousness is clear. Feelings are too detailed to be a simulation.
It's pointless to panic.
The thought, cold and detached, like the whisper of a distant star, echoed in the mind.
At the last moment before everything plunged into darkness, I remembered one thing - an experiment on the brain, bordering on the limits of the possible.
I sought to go beyond the possible, to cross the limits of evolution, to break the very nature of the limitations of the human mind. I was sure that I calculated everything. I conducted experiments on many people and even on myself, putting my life on the sake of a goal. I tried to understand the secrets of consciousness, to learn the unknown in order to reach the limit of human capabilities and understanding.
Everything was calculated to the smallest detail.
I knew what I was going for: either I would achieve my goal or I would die - because that was the meaning of my life. If you have to pay with your life for the sake of knowledge and achievement of the goal, I will accept this price.
But at the last moment, when my consciousness was fading, I had a terrible thought - something went wrong. Mistake? Or was it inevitable?
I tried to cross the line between consciousness and matter.
But it seems that he went too far.
And now I'm here.
I died, but my soul got into this world.
I am a man from Earth. Scientist, astronomer, philosopher, polymath and much more. I did not limit myself to one direction, striving for knowledge in all spheres.
I put everything on the stay.
Including your life.
Irony? Destiny? Or a regularity?
I sought to overcome the limits of the human mind - and ended up in another world, in someone else's body, on the verge of death.
But if I'm still alive, then I have a chance.
A chance to understand. A chance to survive. A chance to achieve what I failed in a past life.
I use all possible methods, no matter how cruel they are, regardless of the price.
I'm clenching my fist.
The first step is to check what I have.
If I remember correctly, there were only a few brief mentions in the history of the original Draven before the events of the game.
He was a third-year student of the Great Higher Magic Academy Arcanium. More precisely, he died shortly before the beginning of the first semester of the third year.
His presence caused tension. Many were sure that he was
A Rank 6 mage at the peak stage's, And some even believed that he had already reached Rank 7 mage.
This opinion developed after a few months ago he single-handedly destroyed many monsters of his level, criminal magicians and even A demon of Rank 7. However, in reality, his true strength barely reached the third rank, which he managed to achieve only before his death.
All his victories were possible only thanks to the Grimoire of the Abyssal Void - a powerful artifact that can enhance any spell hundreds and even thousands of times.
This grimoire was invisible to everyone except the owner, and it was he who created the illusion of Draven's incredible power.
But in the original story, Draven died before the start of the main plot.
No one knew his secret laboratory except himself.
There he tried to awaken the dark force to overcome the limits and reach the third rank, and then sought to increase the limit of the use of the Grimoire of the Abyssal Void resorting to dark and cruel methods: forbidden rituals, dark formations and forbidden magic.
But the ritual got out of control, absorbing its vital essence.
Draven's secret laboratory was in another space created with the help of forbidden magic and formations enhanced by the Grimoire of the Abyssal Void It was possible to get there only through a space portal sealed in a scroll, which was stored in its spatial ring.
A few months after Draven's death, this dimension collapsed like fragile glass. Without an owner, after a few weeks, Grimoire disappeared, spells and formations were exhausted, and everything inside was transferred to one of the secret premises of the Academy.
Soon after, it became known that Draven was a weak dark magician, an enemy of mankind, who killed many people and secretly committed crimes.
The director of the Academy destroyed his corpse in front of the whole people, making it a public act
Everyone soon forgot about Draven, contemptuously considering him a pathetic and insignificant character.
He wasn't even a third-rate character - a pathetic, worthless mention that was laughed at before immediately thrown out of memory like unnecessary garbage.
But now, a second before Draven's death, I moved into his body.
Scientist. Astronomer. Philosopher. Polymat.
I do not limit myself to one sphere of knowledge and strive for development in all directions.
Draven Valmort is mysterious and mysterious. Indifferent, merciless, cold and incredibly smart. He refused worldly desires and is ready for anything for the sake of absolute power and revenge.
However, in reality, his true strength is only the third rank, which he reached before his death, rising from the second. He won only thanks to the Grimoire of the Abyssal Void.
This world is developed, and records of the battles of the original Draven are widespread. Everyone considers him the greatest genius, and his aura seems intimidating.
He is a third-year student of the Great Higher Magic Academy Arkanium. More precisely, he died before the beginning of the semester.
But now I'm alive.
And if I still exist in this body, then... I have a second chance.