Just as he regained consciousness, Yafi found himself in a world utterly different from the one he knew.
Yafi Karlfarn stood in the middle of a run-down, dilapidated corridor. His eyes could see nothing there wasn't a single trace of light.
"How did I end up here?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then, he turned to the side, startled by the sound of something falling.
Without thinking, he stood up, wanting to check where the noise had come from. In that moment, he could barely sense the presence of anyone nearby.
His heart pounded wildly. His breathing grew heavier, as if something heavy was pressing down on him. Yafi turned again, trying to confirm what it was he had just heard.
After taking a few steps, a faint light came into view. In front of him stood a strange figure, staring at him. Yafi couldn't quite make out the details.
A shadow veiled the person's face, but he could tell—it was a man.
The strange figure raised a single finger. Two people emerged from behind and began approaching Yafi with clear intent to kill.
Instinctively, he spun around and ran, stumbling over his own steps, desperate to escape the approaching danger.
"What kind of madness is this?" he muttered, shocked by the situation. The last thing Yafi remembered was being at home, about to go to sleep.
As he ran, he caught a glimpse of his own shadow—and something felt off. He tugged at the sleeve of his shirt.
And froze.
There, on his wrist, was the old burn mark he'd gotten as a child when he accidentally spilled hot water while helping his mother cook.
He quickly pulled the sleeve back down and glanced behind him to check on his pursuers.
"Gone! Where did they go?" Yafi was stunned—those two people chasing him had suddenly vanished without a trace.
This place was strange. Dark, suffocating, and filled with fog. But none of that could stop him. Eventually, he caught sight of the pale glow of the moon.
In front of him stood a massive tree—like a banyan, with roots hanging down—but it looked nothing like one.
Yafi couldn't recall anything about the strange people chasing him. But one thing was certain—his head was pounding.
His body felt heavy. And just when he could no longer endure the weight—
The three mysterious figures appeared again out of nowhere.
One of them the very first person Yafi had seen stepped forward. Yafi was certain now: the figure standing before him was human.
But there was something uncanny about him. He wore a pitch-black cloak and a dark violet mask that covered part of his face.
"Vale Zorca?" the man whispered coldly. A sword materialized in his hand.
He raised it, aiming directly at Yafi's head. Yafi couldn't move. Death was right in front of him, and all he could do was surrender to it.
But then suddenly a mass of shadow erupted, and the man, along with the two behind him, vanished.
Yafi stared in disbelief.
"Ugh… Dammit, that hurts!" he cried out. His head throbbed in agony, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
The pain was unbearable—like his entire body was being pulled apart by ropes tied to wild horses running in opposite directions. He felt like he was being yanked left and right.
His strength drained, his eyes slowly began to close, and his body collapsed onto the cold ground, the night wind brushing over him.
What?
This pain… it's like my body can't even breathe properly. He didn't remember the incident, he just felt dizzy and his body couldn't move.
Damn it!
A strange world, with the sound of bells constantly ringing, like a dream realm haunting his mind. The stabbing pain kept spreading from deep within his skull. Yafi Karlfarn tried to open his eyes, hoping it would all go away.
His body felt stiff, as if he were being burned alive.
Dizzy. Nauseous. A cold wind piercing through his head. Everything blended into one, making it impossible to open his eyes. This damn pain had completely locked his eyelids shut.
Damn it! Is this just a dream? He could only curse inwardly. Yafi wanted to speak, but not a single word would leave his mouth.
Am I… already dead?
As he began to accept that possibility, his body suddenly jolted awake from the nightmare. His breath caught. His mind spun in chaos. Yafi exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself.
His brow furrowed. Both hands covered his face. He leaned his head back against the chair. Unintentionally, he turned to the side. And of course, he was shocked standing there was a mirror. And in it… a face he didn't recognize.
The shock forced him to stand up instinctively. A crashing sound followed the chair scraping harshly against the floor. Yafi stepped toward the mirror, trying to understand… who he really was?
Did I... t–transmigrate?
Of course, he didn't believe it right away. His hair was messy, and he tried to fix it with his hands. Then a faint sound reached him—like blood flowing. A wound near his ear slowly closed on its own.
Yafi was stunned. He didn't understand what was happening to his body. He took a deep breath, trying to comprehend it all. But a soft groan escaped his lips his head still felt like it was being shot, nonstop and mercilessly.
His body staggered and fell. He groaned, the pain in his head suddenly intensifying. His teeth chattered, his whole body trembled. But then... a voice echoed drawing his attention.
[Initiating Identification...]
[Name: Vale Zorca]
[Age: 20]
[LVL. 1]
[STR: 2]
[AGI: 2]
[VIT: 3]
[INT: 2]
[DEX: 2
The voice came out of nowhere, not from outside, but from within his own head. Cold, flat, and emotionless. Like a machine piercing directly into his consciousness.
Yafi froze.
The world around him still felt hazy—cracked grey stone walls, damp air biting his skin, and the faint scent of metal lingering. He didn't know where he was, or why the voice sounded so clear.
[Brain synchronization 21%... 48%... 89%...]
['Relic Core' System activation successful.]
[Body status: Unstable]
[Initiating preliminary reconstruction...]
Vale clutched his throbbing head. It felt like his brain was being wrapped in barbed wire. His body trembled violently. His eyes widened as a dim blue light began forming strange lines in the air before him—like a hologram, but too real to be an illusion.