The Beyonders; I am the Devils incarnate

Daxon's eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, as they stared blankly at the white ceiling above him.

His head ached, and a sharp, throbbing pain struck his temple, which he held with his hand as though subconsciously.

It was made worse by the voice he was hearing in his head. It wasn't an ordinary voice, though, it spoke in rhyme and, at times, in mystery.

But the thing was that, as the voice spoke, he saw glowing runes flare to life in the darkness behind his eyes, as if being carved directly into his mind.

{{Name: Daxon Smith >>

{{Age: 17 >>

{{Will: weak >>

{{First sin: Lies>>

{{Outstanding sin: Blackmail >>

{{Triarch aspect: -

{{Scars: 4 >>

{{Aspect rank: -

{{Essence: -

{{Parallax server destroyed: 1 >>

{{Weapon earned: Silver Spoon >>

{{Bio-line: null >>

Daxon was in deep destitution. What was happening to him? He couldn't be dreaming.

He tried to remember what had happened, but a crick seared through his head like a sharp, stabbing pain, cutting his thoughts short.

It was as if he was awake but not awake, like his body was here, but his mind was caught somewhere between two worlds.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the pain began to fade.

Slowly.

His eyes started dilating as the ache in his head began to dwindle.

It took a fleeting moment, and he was fully awake. The fog in his head began to lift, and memories whooshed into his mind.

Like someone possessed, he jerked up immediately, sitting up. He looked around him. His vision scanned the unfamiliar room, and he noticed that he was in a white room.

An oxygen mask was fixed to his face, and then thin lines, like wires, were affixed all over his forehead and temples.

A cylindrical glass tank filled with liquid stood beside him, and there were other gadgets he didn't recognize also present.

"What the fuck,"

he muttered under his breath. He was all alone in the room.

He pulled the oxygen mask away from his mouth as he gently removed the lines fixed to his head.

He shot his mind to remember what happened after he had killed that thing, maybe to recall how he had got here, but nothing.

He focused more and more. There must be something. He hadn't just appeared here mysteriously.

But then, he heard the voices again, which threw him awry.

When the voice came again, he felt a painful sensation, just like he had felt before, as his vision dizzied. He started seeing those runes again, but this time, clearer.

{{Name: Daxen Smith >>

{{Age: 17 >>

{{Will: weak >>

{{First sin: Lies >>

{{Outstanding sin: Blackmail >>

{{Triarch aspect: 

{{Scars: 4 >>

{{Aspect rank: 

{{Essence: 

{{Parallax server destroyed: 1 >>

{{Weapon earned: Silver Spoon >>

{{Bio-line: null >>

At that, he realized, maybe it was this that had made him feel dizzy when he woke up. But why should that happen?

Daxon was smart. He though was called weird, but he was also called nerd. Crazy, right? Because somehow, they rhymed: weird, nerd. They at times used it to sing for him.

Now, judging from what was happening, maybe he was dead and had transmigrated into another universe, maybe a world where he was now set on a quest or something like that.

But this was reality, and the more he accepted it, the better. Things like that shouldn't be real.

He looked at the glass tank beside him. Though it blurred, faint, and distorted his reflection, he could still see that he was still in his body.

His eyes, hair, and everything were still the same. Even his dark skin tone. He breathed out.

Thank goodness, he wasn't dead.

"I haven't even worn that suit that Darren will get me soon," he pondered.

At the thought of Darren, he remembered... and it made his stomach twist.

Their house, it was turned to trash.

And just then, he didn't know what to believe anymore. He wanted to dismiss what he had heard and seen in his head, to think maybe it was all the result of trauma. But deep inside, he felt the truth. He knew what he saw.

'But wait.'

Something might really convince him if what had happened was real and not fantasy. He remembered being at the verge of death. The very painful sensation he felt when those claws sank into his body and scratched through it all the way to his chest.

Well, he lost so much blood, and no one was meant to survive such a wound and feel as good as he did under a day, or who knows, maybe just a few hours.

He pulled up the hospital clothes he wore, hoping it was not true. And then, slowly and panicking, he looked at his torso.

Right there on his skin was what he dreaded the most.

Right from the lower left part of his stomach to the high right part of his chest were four heavy scars etched into it. It was where the beast had scratched him.

"What the fuck is this?"

He looked around the square room he was in. He hadn't seen a hospital like that before. No signs. No doctors. No windows. No way to tell time. For all he knew, he could've been here for weeks, or even years.

"Who knows how many months or even years I might have been here, for this wounds to have healed?"

He started to freak out. It all dawned on him. He was somewhere he didn't know. Maybe, at worst, held hostage, tested or experimented on. Or even worse, maybe they had harvested his organs.

"Help!"

he screamed.

Animes he had watched, about people screaming but their voices not being heard on the other side of the door or wall, played in his mind. He couldn't help but think,

'what if no one hears my scream?'

He needed to calm down. He needed to figure a way out of this. He had blackmailed people smartly and had… Killed a beast that nearly killed him too. And it is time he acted like a bad ass.

Therefore, he needed to think, not flinch.

He took a deep breath and calmed down. He really loved anime, and he had read many books on Webnovel about what he was just experiencing.

He hadn't hoped that what he once saw as fiction was now about to happen to him.

He cleared his mind and focused on that voice he had heard earlier.

And then, it took a while, he felt the pain, but now it wasn't so much.

The runes appeared in his mind's eye, as usual. Now thinking clearly, he focused on them, and then the runes elaborated, highlighting the particular one he thought on.

That didn't make any sense. What other weapon was he going to use to slay that thing? It was killing that girl! He cursed when he heard and saw...

[Silver Spoon earned; beast was killed by a weapon not yet known to be in your category >> reason you are still an unchosen_.]

The point that made him mad was, he now had to consider that the weapon he earned after slaying a beast that nearly shot his eyes for good… was a silver spoon.

And on top of that, he was called dumb, since he didn't kill it smartly or skilfully.

Did they think he wanted to drink tea? Why would they give him a spoon? While he had seen a thumper gun that shot out bombs, carried by a lady who came to fight the beast, the same lady he appeared to have rescued.

Meanwhile, there were other things. He was sure he wasn't a liar. Even if he was, his first sin should've been reading a harem-packed novel or even watching porn.

And now, after he had killed whatever that thing was, he was called a weakling.

How dare they?

The fact that he was bullied didn't mean they should categorize him like that.

He breathed down.

Not like the way he reacted had changed anything. But now, he looked at others that were empty. Why were they empty? As he thought, his eyes ran past the weak will again, it made him feel sick.

Did they really think of him as such a lowlife? Well, they should get ready to meet the real me, the me that doesn't care about anything.

Though… he still cared. Since he was still frustrated by the weak will.

"But, why are these ones empty?" he deliberated.

At that thought, the door to the room he was in slid open with a hissing sound. 

A lady walked right in. She looked elderly and was dressed in a brown suit which matched her skirt and high-heeled shoes.

Her lips were glossy red, and a round moon-shaped spectacle perched on her nose frame, making her look both gorgeous and professional.

"Welcome to the stronghold of the Parallax Dimension," the woman said, her voice grilled and pitched, but very glen.

Daxon's eyes shot wide open as he asked, aghast...

"Welcome to what…?"