Darkness.
It wasn't merely the absence of light. It was a weight pressing down on Aron, thick and almost tangible, like an invisible hand wrapping around his skin.
The sensation clawed at him, cold and insistent, sending shivers racing down his spine. He gasped sharply as awareness slammed back into him, lungs burning, chest heaving violently. His heart pounded so hard that he could almost hear it echoing in the void around him.
The first sound that reached him was a faint, irregular drip… drip… drip… somewhere distant, the slow rhythm piercing the suffocating silence.
Aron's head swam, vision blurry, as the darkness seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. Shapes drifted on the edge of perception, indistinct and shifting, as if the void itself was alive, waiting, watching.
He staggered upright, legs trembling under the weight of his own body. Each step he took produced a hollow, ringing sound on the polished, obsidian-like floor.
The cold seeped into his bones, a chill unlike any he had ever experienced. With a trembling hand, he ran his fingers through his damp, disheveled hair, trying desperately to anchor himself to reality.
"Wha—what?" His voice cracked, a fragile whisper against the oppressive void. "Where… where am I?"
The darkness responded only with a distorted echo, a ghost of his own voice, sending a cold thrill of unease down his spine.
As his eyes slowly adjusted, towering pillars began to emerge from the black haze. Each one was carved from some impossibly dark stone, etched with runes that twisted and writhed as if alive.
Violet light pulsed through these ancient carvings, casting long, jagged shadows that shifted and flickered across the floor. The patterns seemed to crawl whenever he looked away, as if the pillars themselves were breathing.
A shiver ran down Aron's spine. He took a cautious step forward, each footfall unnervingly loud in the silent chamber. His gaze flicked from pillar to pillar, trying to make sense of the familiar yet alien architecture.
"This… this place looks so… familiar," he murmured, barely audible. "I've seen this layout before… those runes… that faint mist…"
Recognition struck him like a dagger to the chest. His breath caught, his hands shaking as realization began to anchor itself in his mind.
"No… this can't be…"
He spun slowly, eyes scanning the void. His chest tightened, pulse hammering as his memory painted the scene in stark clarity.
"This… isn't this the first floor of the Xorex Tower?"
The words escaped him before his mind could stop them, raw with disbelief.
Almost immediately, the runes on the pillars flared brightly, a deep, resonant hum vibrating through the obsidian floor, traveling up his legs and into his bones. The sound was more than noise; it was a pulse, a heartbeat emanating from the very room, and it seemed to acknowledge him. Then, with a sharp, metallic ping, a translucent screen appeared, floating like a shard of reality suspended in air.
Aron froze. His eyes were drawn to the glowing text as it flickered and shifted.
[ Reward successfully processed ]
A sharp hitch caught in his throat.
"What… the hell?"
The screen warped violently, lines of static flickering across it.
[ Player Aron has been selected for the #@## ]
[ ERROR!!! ]
[ ERROR!! ]
Symbols twisted and dissolved, only to be replaced by a new message, crisp and deliberate:
[ Achievement level of Player Aron has exceeded the reward criteria ]
[ Granting Reincarnation to Player Aron for reaching the 100th floor for the 2nd time ]
Aron's mouth went dry. He staggered back instinctively, disbelief coiling around him like a living thing.
"Reincarnation…?" His voice sounded strange even to himself, distant and hollow.
The screen pulsed again, a final shimmer before displaying one last, devastatingly important line:
[ Extra Rewards Processing... ]
[ Player Aron has been granted Exclusive Access to the 'System' ]
The words hung in the air like molten metal, heavy and impossible to ignore. Aron's pupils dilated, heart racing. The concept hit him like a thunderclap.
"Exclusive… access?" His voice trembled. "Does this mean… I—"
Realization settled with brutal clarity. Every calculation, every strategy, every sleepless hour in the tower had led to this singular moment.
"Wait, wait, wait! You're telling me I was really given access to the System of Fosters Lukers?! This… this is insane!" His words tumbled over themselves in a torrent of disbelief.
And then, a darker thought struck. A bolt of pure panic. His gaze darted around the room, senses screaming for confirmation.
"No… no, no, no. Don't tell me… I've been reincarnated into Fosters Lukers itself?!"
His voice echoed endlessly through the cavernous space, swallowed by the darkness and reflected back at him in mocking distortion.
"This has to be a joke! It can't be real!"
The first sound of life shattered the silence—a soft, almost delicate tuck.
Aron froze. His entire body tensed, muscles coiled like springs.
Tuck. Tuck. Tuck.
The noise grew rhythmic, deliberate, each step heavier, more menacing than the last. His eyes strained into the black, and the mist at the chamber's edge began to shift.
A small, hunched figure emerged. Its skin was a sickly green mottled with dark patches. Its eyes glowed a faint, yellowish light, and jagged teeth peeked from a twisted grin. A crude mace hung in its hands, scarred and pitted from countless brutal encounters.
The stench hit him like a physical blow—rotten meat, fetid and sharp, making his stomach lurch. He stumbled back instinctively, gagging.
Recognition struck with the force of a hammer.
"A goblin…" His voice was almost inaudible. "But… why does it look so real?"
The creature exhaled, a low, guttural sound that reverberated off the pillars. Its chest heaved, each breath like a growl, each movement deliberate and threatening.
Aron's mind raced, adrenaline surging. Reincarnation, transmigration—he didn't care about labels. What mattered was this: if the goblin's mace struck him, he would die.
The goblin shrieked and lunged.
Almost instinctively, the translucent System screen blinked back into existence.
[ STATUS – Enemy Identified ]
[ Goblin ]
LVL: 2
STR: 5
STM: 4
AGL: 6
VIT: 7
Aron's face paled. His muscles tensed.
"Level two?! On the first floor?!" he thought, shock anchoring his fear.
The goblin's mace descended in a savage arc. Aron dove sideways, the weapon crashing into the obsidian floor with a deafening thunk. Shards flew like knives, one grazing his cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.
"Fuck!" he hissed. Every movement felt sluggish, alien, unrefined. He wasn't in the perfected body of his avatar anymore—this was real, and his body betrayed him with its weight and unfamiliar inertia.
No weapon. No preparation. No safety net.
The goblin charged again, relentless, unyielding.
Desperation sparked an idea. The System Shop. He had 100 SP—his base allowance for starting anew. He ducked behind a pillar, buying precious moments, and called out mentally to the system.
[ System Shop Activated ]
[ SP: 100 ]
[ Available Items: Levels 1 → 5 ]
The screen shifted rapidly. Options displayed:
[ Emoth's Dagger (LVL: 3) – 20 SP ]
[ Arc of Drake (LVL: 4) – 30 SP ]
[ Axyon Short-Sword (LVL: 4) – 35 SP ]
[ Xerom's Daggers (LVL: 3) – 25 SP ]
.....
.....
Aron's pulse surged. Without hesitation, he selected:
"Arc of Drake!"
A surge of light engulfed his hands, coalescing into two obsidian daggers. Each hilt bore the snarling head of a drake, its eyes seeming to glint with malevolent intelligence. The blades pulsed faintly with a black-violet glow. Aron's fingers wrapped around them, feeling the balance, the weight, the promise of power.
"Now we're talking," he muttered, a manic grin spreading across his face.
The goblin charged, claws scraping the floor, mace raised. Aron pivoted, body moving instinctively. He slashed with his right-hand dagger, the blade cutting through the air with a hiss. A crescent-shaped wave of black-violet energy surged forward, striking the goblin cleanly in two.
The halves fell apart, black ichor pooling across the obsidian tiles. Silence swallowed the chamber.
Adrenaline surged through Aron, hands trembling. He could feel the thrill of combat, the intoxicating rush of survival.
[ Congratulations! You have defeated a Goblin (LVL: 2) ]
[ You have Leveled UP! ]
[ You have Leveled UP! ]
[ You have gained 10 Stat Points as a Title Bonus ]
[ You have achieved the impossible again! ]
[ You defeated a LVL 2 creature while at LVL 0 ]
[ You will be rewarded properly through your Exclusive System ]
[ Processing Reward… ]
He laughed, a wild, unhinged sound, echoing off the pillars.
"Ha… hahahaha! Rewards after rewards… but the real prize is this—fighting, surviving."
From the mist, heavier sounds began to emerge. Thumps and scuffs reverberated through the chamber. Shadows flickered, indistinct forms approaching.
Aron crouched, daggers at the ready, breathing steady, eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation.
"So," he muttered, a slow grin spreading across his face, "they've sent more this time."
And with that, the darkness seemed to come alive, swirling around him as the chamber waited, silent but pulsing with imminent chaos.