NOVEL WEB Chapter 2: Game Over
"I'm about to choke this," Micah Stone said, words muffled by half a slice of cold pizza.
The apartment looked like hell.
Though that wasn't unusual for the house of Micah Stone.
Cans, wrappers, a sock that didn't belong to anyone. I guess the room wears it.
The TV made it all seem like it didn't exist. Everything a headache of blue and red.
Micah was hunched over.
The only thing he was focused on was his thumbs locked on the controller, eyes squinted as he played his friend Quintin Clemson in the game Legacy.
"You always choke. At least you're consistent."
It was like those fighting games that millennials used to play in arcades, mashed with fantasy aspects and amazing in person PvP.
But Legacy is so much more creative, there was no instructions on combos.
You make them yourself.
That's what made it so unpredictable.
"You ready to give up?"
Quintin asked, tauntingly.
Micah shot him a glare. "Talk big, Clem. You barely beat me last time."
Quintin didn't even pause.
"Wasn't close, bro. Just admit it. You fold when it counts."
The game counted down.
The UI was smooth, perfection reached. Micah's and Quintin's avatars loaded.
The builds they've been adding onto everything time they played the game.
Micah's heart tried to escape through his teeth, there was a passion he held for gaming.
Maybe it was the different worlds that attracted him but he loved video games.
This was it.
He could feel it.
He was wrong.
As soon as the match started, Quintin grabbed the best loot and sprinted. His build buffed the weapons he did manage to get.
All Micah got was blue rarity throwing knife and a sword hilt. Not a sword.
Just the fucking sword hilt!
He ran to find more weapons, Quintin shot at him taking ten of his health points.
Quintin snickered. "Gonna cry?"
"Eat shit,"
Micah played harder, faster.
His fingers working overtime. For a minute, it looked like he might claw it back.
He got some good loot. Then, just as he closed in, Quintin sniped him with a epic rarity bow.
Game over. Again.
Micah's arm twitched, he brought the controller closer to the wall then he could have to victory.
Quintin let out a low whistle. Laughing to himself.
Micah stared at the floor, jaw set. A strange sense of Envy ran through his eyes.
"Next time's mine. For real."
"Keep saying it. Maybe one day you'll convince somebody."
Micah flopped backward, chewing on the loss like it was old gum. The city outside hummed.
Distant sirens, they stacked, multiplying until they didn't sound normal anymore.
Quintin's phone went off with an alert. He ignored it. Micah sat up, nerves crawling.
"That's a lot of sirens."
Both boys turned to the window.
Micah peeled back the blinds.
Down the street, neighbors crowded outside, shouting and pointing at the skyline.
The middle of the city was on fire. Right beside the nuclear power plant that the city built years ago.
A white glare, brighter than anything they'd ever seen.
Brighter than the sun.
"Dude…" Quintin's voice dropped an octave.
"Yeah... I see it..." Micah's voice evened.
The sky went pure white.
Then red. The kind of red that kills.
A mushroom cloud punched up into the world, the shockwave snapping the windows into nothing, heat turning air to knives.
He and Quintin had maybe a second to realize what was happening.
There was no running. There wasn't even time to scream.
One heartbeat, and then: fire, gone, nothing.
Micah didn't feel pain. Just absence.
Blankness. No world. No body. No sound, not even in his head.
He floated, somewhere outside of everything, thought leaking away with every second. Who was he? Did it matter?
"Next time's mine," he almost laughed, except it didn't sound like laughing at all.
Time moved. He didn't.
He replayed his life many times.
Yet through it all he never could find peace in it, was it impossible to be satisfied with a life that ended so early? When all you did was sit in bed and play games with your roommate who beat you every. single. time?
He drifted for… maybe thousands of years. Maybe.
And he simply never found peace.
During the fifth century of the fifth hour, a infobox with a blue glow appeared in his face.
[Due to the unforeseen, fate-warping nature of your death, and your complete lack of a moral alignment, you have been selected for another shot—]
It kept going.
[—You will be reincarnated into another world, where you'll be considered a treasure. Try not to screw it up.]
Micah tried to say something, to protest, to fight. Nothing came out.
Light edged in from somewhere. He felt himself being pulled, shrinking, compressed.
Sensation flooded back—warmth, tightness, a heartbeat that wasn't his. Voices. A woman, soft and shaky. A man, proud and awkward.
He tried to open his eyes. Everything was too bright. Too close.
He couldn't move right. Couldn't talk.
A face leaned over him—dark hair, tears, a smile that shattered something in his chest. Another face, this one stubbled and grinning, pride radiating off him.
Micah tried to say something, but all that came out was a tiny, hungry cry.
The woman laughed, crying harder, and stroked his cheek.
"Yes… He is a Nori, after all. Katsu. Katsu Nori."
The man repeated it, voice rough. "Katsu…"
The words sank in. New, strange, safe.
Micah—no, Katsu—let the world blur out again, exhaustion pulling him.
Maybe this was it. Maybe he could get it right this time.
All he knew was, for once, he wasn't alone.
A new game, a new life, and maybe—just maybe—this time, he'd win.
—————
KATSU NORI
Race: Human
Condition: Normal
LV: 0
VIT: 7+0 / ATK: 8+0
MAG: 6+0 / AGI: 9+0
MAGIC TOOLS:
None
TITLES:
"HEIR" » – «
What?...
What is all of this?
[Status: Soul Transfer · Complete]
[Special Condition: Ancient Magic · Inherited]
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