A sharp, searing pain jolted through Kaelash's skull, dragging him from the depths of unconsciousness. His body convulsed slightly as the sensation surged from the back of his neck and settled like a molten brand in the center of his forehead. It was as if someone had shoved burning metal into his brain, and he screamed—not from his mouth, but from deep within his soul.
He clawed at the ground, nails scraping against cold, uneven stone. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as if he were drowning in the thick air. His eyes snapped open, greeted by a disorienting darkness that swallowed everything. It wasn't just the absence of light—it was the kind of void that pressed against your skin, clung to your thoughts, and tried to convince you that you didn't exist at all.
He groaned, voice cracking as he tried to sit up. "What... the hell was that...?" he muttered, clutching his head. Sweat poured from his brow, his shirt already drenched and clinging to his back. His body trembled. Every fiber of his being felt wrung out, as if his soul had been set on fire and doused in ice water at the same time.
He sat up with effort and placed a trembling hand over his heart. The pain faded slowly, like a receding tide. What replaced it was worse: a flood of images, emotions, and sensations. His past life, the forgotten memories, surged into focus like a dam had burst. Faces he once knew—his family, his friends, the late nights of gaming, and the bitterness of his old world—all returned with haunting clarity.
"Was that... a dream?" he whispered, more to the dark than himself. But no—he knew better. Dreams didn't come with this level of detail. This wasn't some blurry figment born of imagination. These were experiences. Lived moments. Scars. The realization settled in his gut like a heavy stone.
"That wasn't a dream," he whispered again, more firmly this time. "That was me. That was my life. My real life."
Ding-Ding.
The sound echoed unnaturally in the cavern. Kaelash flinched, instinctively glancing up. A panel shimmered into existence before him, floating in the air like a ghostly parchment.
[System Notification]
Congratulations, Host, on unlocking your previous life's memories.
His breath hitched. For a moment, he was frozen, staring at the glowing text as his heartbeat pounded in his ears. No... this couldn't be. This was straight out of one of those cliché power fantasy novels—stories he used to mock for being wish-fulfillment nonsense.
And yet... here he was.
His memories confirmed it—the details, the rules, the world. It was the very same as the game he'd spent hundreds of hours playing in his past life. The realization sank deeper with every passing second. He wasn't just in a fantasy world—he was inside that game.
Kaelash's fingers curled into fists as he recalled the game's opening sequence. The tutorial. A cruel, harsh segment meant to set the tone for the story. The protagonist fought a savage boss far beyond the ability of any new player. But through grit, timing, and the help of a nameless NPC, the protagonist escaped.
His stomach dropped.
That NPC was butchered. Torn apart. Sacrificed as a plot device.
Kaelash's mouth went dry. His eyes widened in horror. "No... no, no, no."
He'd been thrown into the game as that NPC.
Panic began to seize him. His heart thundered against his ribs, and sweat rolled down his back. "I just got my memories back," he gasped. "I'm not dying again. Not now. Not like this."
Desperate, he called out to the invisible presence he now knew existed. "System! Please—anything! Do I have a gift package? Beginner items? Anything?"
[System Notification]
Apologies, Host. No starter packages or items available.
Kaelash's hope evaporated. "Are you kidding me...?" he whispered, the words trembling with bitter disappointment.
He inhaled sharply and said, "Then show me my status. Now."
[System Status]
Name: Agrick Skyguard / Kaelash
Age: 10
Race: Human
Strength: 9
Agility: 23
Stamina: 15
Vitality: 90 / 100
Mental Power: 12
Skills:
Inventory: Allows storage of non-living items (limit: 10 slots). Items must be of manageable size. Cannot store magical constructs or living beings.
Kaelash clicked his tongue. These were the stats of a child—not a hero. Not even an adventurer. Just a weak, defenseless kid. "Inventory? That's it?" he muttered. He looked around, as if expecting someone to jump out and yell 'surprise.'
Nothing.
The silence of the dungeon wrapped around him again. Cold. Watching. Waiting.
He swallowed hard and took a step back, eyes darting across the shadowy corridor. He needed a plan. He couldn't just sit here waiting for death.
"System," he said, voice steadier now, "what can you do? If you can't give me gifts, what's the point?"
[System Notification]
System can evolve based on Host's actions. Repeated behavior can manifest new skills or talents. Passion, repetition, and survival increase chances of unlocking profession or awakening hidden potential.
Kaelash's brow furrowed. "So... no shortcuts. I have to earn everything."
Another growl echoed from the depths. Louder this time. Closer. Something massive was moving. Heavy paws crushed bones and gravel beneath them. A beastly breath hissed in the air.
Kaelash's mouth went dry. His mind raced.
The hound. It was coming.
His breath came in short bursts now. "Think, damn it. Think!"
He scanned the area. Jagged rocks. Crumbling pillars. Rusted bones. No weapons. No armor. No allies. His fists clenched. He couldn't run—his stamina was too low. He wouldn't make it ten steps before collapsing.
Then, a whisper of memory—the NPC used to farm weak monsters near the dungeon edge.
He rushed to the wall and pressed against it, ducking behind a fallen slab. It wasn't much, but it was cover. His pulse drummed in his ears as he waited, every second stretching like an eternity.
Thump... thump... snarl...
The growl grew louder. A foul stench filled the air, like rotting meat and sulfur. Kaelash covered his mouth, trying not to gag.
The creature stepped into view. It was larger than he remembered from the game—a grotesque, lupine monster with exposed ribs and glowing red eyes. Its fangs dripped with black saliva.
He didn't move. He didn't even blink. His body screamed to flee, but he forced himself to stay perfectly still.
The beast sniffed the air... then turned. It walked away.
He collapsed backward, silent tears in his eyes. He was still alive.
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay... I survived this. I can survive the rest. I have to."
He stared at his trembling hands. Weak. Powerless. But alive.
For now.