The sensation was…wrong. Utterly, irrevocably wrong. I hauled myself upright, or at least attempted to, from the grotesquely opulent bed. The silk sheets felt heavier than lead, clinging to a body that felt foreign, alien. Panic flared, a cold, sharp edge against the dull ache of…everything.
"Who am I…" The words scraped out, a rusty hinge protesting after years of disuse.
My reflection in the ornate, golden-framed mirror answered with brutal clarity. Despair, raw and visceral, choked me.
"No… it can't be. I'M that guy? Why him? Of all the people, it had to be this… Tokoyami? What rotten luck."
Each step was deliberate, a forced march against the inertia of this unfamiliar body. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. And another.
Someone was approaching, rapidly. Footfalls, a quick, insistent rhythm, sliced through the heavy silence of the room. In that second, the only sounds were the relentless steps and my own ragged breathing.
As the person drew closer, time seemed to warp and distort. The door rattled, a prelude to intrusion, a rude awakening. My mind, already reeling, scrambled for purchase.
"Damn it! Someone's coming in. What do I do?"
Then, just as the door handle turned, reality fractured. Time itself seized. The rattling stopped. The rustling leaves outside, the distant murmur of voices from nearby rooms – all frozen, suspended in an agonizing tableau. Even my own body, this ill-fated vessel, ceased to respond. Everything but my head, locked in a terrifying, bewildered awareness.
A dark chuckle, like the rustle of grave cloths, emanated from the corner of the room. I snapped my head around, but the corner was empty. Then, again, the chuckle, closer this time, as if breathed into my very ear.
I whirled, a desperate, clumsy motion. The mirror stared back, unblinking. Nothing. Just my own grotesque reflection. Then, the chuckle escalated into full-blown, maniacal laughter, directed solely at me. It was a chilling cacophony, a symphony of madness that sent shivers wracking through my oversized frame.
As abruptly as it began, the laughter ceased. No reason for its inception, no explanation for its departure. But its absence was no comfort, overshadowed by the chilling spectacle unfolding in the mirror. A figure, shrouded in impenetrable darkness, lurked behind me. It possessed no discernible features, neither male nor female. Only a horrifying, jagged smile, a rent in the fabric of reality, promised unimaginable pain. Even worse… the figure was close, impossibly close, almost touching my back. I was within reach of something ancient and terrible, and I was utterly paralyzed.
Suddenly, the figure reached forward, its hand passing through my chest as if clutching my heart. Then, with the strength of a vengeful god, it squeezed. I heard a sickening pop, a muffled explosion that defied physics. A wave of agony, unlike anything I had ever known, ripped through my being. Each frantic thump of my heart amplified the torment, a relentless drumbeat of despair. I wanted to scream, to beg, but my voice was gone, stolen by this frozen moment. Only internally, in the shattered fragments of my mind, could I unleash the silent, unending shriek.
Internally, I…
"AHHHHH AGHHH IT- T IT HURTS! DAMN IT-T IT HURTS SO BAD! WHY-Y M-MEEE!"
Then came the crunch. The sickening, systematic destruction of bone. Each snap, each splinter, resonated in the frozen silence, an eternity of torment for my ravaged mind. Every shattered bone, every crushing pressure, every suffocating breath was a unique and excruciating symphony of pain. My old world, my old life, had ended with the slow burn of terminal illness. This… this was a new kind of hell.
Years passed within the confines of that frozen moment, an endless cycle of agony and despair. But then, as suddenly as it had begun, time resumed. The figure vanished. The laughter died. But the damage remained. I couldn't breathe. The heart-crushing agony, the broken bones – they were real, irreversible.
Then, a disembodied voice, cold and mechanical, shattered the silence.
[MUNOU TOKOYAMI KAMISUTE, YOU HAVE DIED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THIS WORLD. YOU MAY CHOOSE 1 OF THE 3 SKILLS OFFERED TO YOU BY THE ETERNITY SYSTEM.]
"What? First time? What the hell is the Eternity System? And more importantly… how am I alive? Where the hell am I?"
My questions echoed unanswered in the void. I was suspended in nothingness, a black, featureless expanse without light, life, or form. Only the translucent blue screen, emblazoned with its incomprehensible message, remained.
The screen beeped, dismissing my confusion as irrelevant. New text materialized.
[Host has 3 choices:]
[1st: Host receives cultivation resources equivalent to 3 levels above host's current cultivation level, up to the Ki Hardening cultivation realm (one-time use).]
[2nd: Host receives magic, cultivation, swordsmanship techniques equivalent to legendary rank in this world (one-time use unless redeemed again).]
[3rd: A legendary ability of host's chosen specialty, such as swordsmanship, magic, stealth, anything you desire. It will be random, however it will be from your chosen area of expertise you desire.]
[Which of the 3 options will the host choose?]