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Chapter 1

  Chapter 1

  His consciousness slammed back into his body like a wrecking ball. His head pounded with a second heartbeat, each pulse sending fresh waves of agony through his skull. Every inch of him ached as if he'd been thrown from a skyscraper and somehow survived the impact.

  The cold hit him next—a bone-deep chill that set his teeth chattering. He was completely fucking naked, birthday suit on full display with nothing but a strange green ring that adorned his middle finger. Instinctively, he curled inward, trying to preserve whatever body heat remained.

  "What the fuck?" he whispered, his voice sounding foreign even to himself.

  His surroundings made no sense. The darkness wasn't normal darkness—it was a wrongness that seemed to swallow light rather than merely lack it. The only illumination came from purple flames dancing on wall-mounted torches, but even that light behaved strangely. Instead of dispersing throughout the room, it created small pockets of visibility that barely penetrated the unnatural blackness.

  The bench beneath him was made of some material that looked like solidified shadow. The walls—what little he could see of them—were black with hints of purple reflections from the otherworldly flames.

  As he tried to orient himself, a thought bubbled up from some unfamiliar part of his mind:

  Who the fuck am I? What the fuck is this place?

  The moment that thought crystallized, a door he hadn't noticed—couldn't have noticed in this bizarre lighting—swung open. A blast of air so cold it felt like liquid nitrogen washed over his naked body. He curled tighter, balls practically retreating into his abdomen for warmth.

  A robed figure emerged from the darkness beyond the doorway. Its movements were too fluid, too predatory to be human.

  "Good, you're awake." The voice rumbled like distant thunder, more animal than human, reverberating in his chest.

  He squinted, trying to make sense of what stood before him. The creature wasn't fully visible beneath its robe, but what he could see wasn't remotely human. Its face resembled a bat's, but with disturbing humanoid features. Long, gray fingers ended in curved talons. Its skin was dark granite gray, almost blue in the strange light. The only thing that properly reflected the purple flames were its eyes—pale white orbs that seemed to glow from within.

  "You are uglier than I expected, Henry," the creature said.

  Henry. Okay, that's my name, I guess, he thought, latching onto this single piece of identity, but something about it just didn't fit right.

  "What is this place? Where the fuck am I?" Henry demanded, his fear transforming into defensive anger. "And I'm ugly? Have you looked in a mirror lately, you circus freak? You look like a bat that escaped captivity."

  The creature's face contorted into what might have been a scowl, though it was hard to read expressions on its inhuman features.

  "Henry," it said with forced patience, "this place can disorient newcomers. It takes time for your new body to regain its memory here. As you may or may not remember, the ring needs time to reallocate all of your soul history in this new form." Its voice dropped dangerously low. "Don't ever disrespect me again."

  "I'm not trying to sound like a kid, but you started it, Batman," Henry shot back, the nickname coming to him instinctively despite his confusion.

  The creature inhaled deeply, its chest expanding beneath the robe. "Henry, we don't have much time. Your transition had some flaws, and it took time for your body to form properly. Your memories will start to emerge as time passes."

  "Okay, buddy, I'm freezing my ass off while you're just standing there staring at my naked form. Can you get some clothes for me?" Henry wrapped his arms tighter around himself, his skin prickling with goosebumps.

  "All in due time, Henry."

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  "My man, I realize my name is Henry—you can chill with saying it after every sentence. What's your name?" He tried to sound casual despite the surreal circumstances.

  The bat-like being performed an elaborate bow, its movements unnaturally fluid. "My name is Wormpool, and I will be your attendant... for now."

  "Do you mind if I call you Batman?" Henry ventured, finding strange comfort in sarcasm. "I mean, it fits better."

  Wormpool shot him a look of pure venom, but then simply waved a clawed hand in dismissal. A ring on his finger red stone began to glow with an inner light. From seemingly nowhere, a pile of piss-yellow cloth materialized in midair, hovering for a moment before dropping to the floor.

  "This will accommodate you for now, brute," Wormpool said, his voice dripping with disdain.

  Henry laughed, grateful for the normalcy of their mutual dislike. "That's the spirit, my man." He reached for the clothing, then paused. "Are you going to watch me dress too? Want me to bend over next? Or was the cavity search already performed while I was out?"

  Wormpool's pale eyes narrowed but he remained silent, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

  Releasing his hands from covering his privates, Henry grabbed the cloth. It felt strange—like cotton candy spun from some unnatural fiber. "Yeah, this shit is going to be itchy as fuck," he muttered, awkwardly pulling it around himself.

  As he dressed, a memory flickered through his mind: a lottery ticket, 2.4 billion, an Indian clerk in a deli muttering something he couldn't understand. The fragment vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him more confused than before.

  "Good," Wormpool said when Henry had finished dressing. "Now we have much to do and not much time, as I said." The creature produced a small vial containing a viscous liquid that glowed an unsettling mixture of green and yellow, like radioactive bile. "Drink this. It will make you feel better, but it will be... a shock at first."

  Henry eyed the vial suspiciously. "Are you sure, my man? That shit looks like poison. Needs a skull and crossbones label on it."

  "DO IT NOW, YOU PETULANT HUMAN!" Wormpool suddenly bellowed, his voice transforming into something monstrous that shook the very walls.

  Henry flinched. "Dude, chill. Give me that shit." He snatched the vial from Wormpool's clawed hand, his heart racing. Whatever was happening, it was clear that this bat-creature was not someone—or something—to push too far.

  He uncorked the vial, the strange liquid emitting a faint vapor that smelled like ozone and rotten eggs. Whatever new hell this was, he was already in too deep to back out now

  The liquid seared down Henry's throat like napalm, worse than any whiskey he'd ever shotgunned. His body convulsed violently as he collapsed to the floor, muscles contracting and expanding in painful spasms.

  "FUCK!" The word barely escaped his lips as his entire being seemed to implode from within.

  His mind vibrated like a struck tuning fork, reality distorting around him. For a terrifying moment, he felt himself teetering on the edge of nothingness, as if his consciousness might simply dissolve into the darkness.

  Then came the light—blinding, searing, burning through his eyes from inside his own skull. It wasn't external; the radiance emerged from within him, scorching his vision with impossible brightness.

  Words materialized directly in his field of view, glowing text that seemed burned into his consciousness:

  [Welcome to the Cosmore] [Vacuus The Lord of the Void has granted you a new life] [Congratulations. You have reached Level Four] [Location: Bakarus Vine] [Age of Location: 7,247,407]

  Additional text appeared, revealing what appeared to be some kind of character sheet:

  [Subject: Tyler Jackson] [Age: 28] [Race: Human (Basic 1) (High-Conscious)]

  His mind reeled as it processed more information:

  [Affinity Rating: 14.7] [Energy: 35/35 Un-Attuned]

  And then his statistics:

  [Will: 7] [Strength: 5] [Intelligence: 5] [Vitality: 1] [Agility: 3] [Dexterity: 6] [Resilience: 2] [Unbound: 24]

  The text continued, listing sections for abilities, skills, and spells—all currently empty.

  As the glowing text faded, Henry—no, Tyler—remained on the cold floor, gasping for breath. The pain subsided gradually, replaced by a strange tingling sensation throughout his body.

  "Tyler," he whispered to himself, the name suddenly feeling right. "My name is Tyler Jackson."

  He looked up at Wormpool, newfound recognition dawning in his eyes. "What the actual fuck was that? And why do I suddenly know things I didn't know before?"

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