This work is a non-commercial fanfiction created solely for entertainment purposes. All characters, settings and items belonging to existing franchises are the property of their respective copyright holders. No infringement of rights is intended.
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Jhon Ariza's alarm went off at six-thirty in the morning, with that metallic, shrill beep of a cell phone running out of battery. Bogotá awoke gray, with a fine drizzle that wet the tiles and turned the streets into slippery mirrors. From his window in a modest apartment he could see the line of buses and colectivos inching along Carrera 30, while street vendors set up on the corners with thermoses of tinto and baskets of hot pandebonos. The smell of freshly brewed coffee from the neighbor slipped through the cracks.
Jhon, nineteen, dark tousled hair and dark-circle eyes from staying up late, stretched out his arm searching for the phone.
The phone's alarm vibrated on the table going "bzzz-bzzz" and its metallic beep "beep-beep-beep!"— filled the room.
"Mm…"
"Mom, turn off the alarm, please," our protagonist shouted with his eyes still closed.
"Mom—… oh, right." He opened his eyes with a face full of sadness, remembering that his parents had not been with him for two years now, but he was still unable to give up his habits.
He sighed.
Sighing, he got out of bed, finally silencing the phone that was about to be thrown.
He had to get ready for vector calculus classes at the Universidad Central de la Sabana. He rose sluggishly, thinking about the test that awaited him, and walked toward the kitchen. His parents would have insisted he eat a good breakfast. His mother, who sold all sorts of things downtown, always left him a sandwich wrapped in foil when he left for the university. His father, an engineer, had been quieter but just as loving. Remembering their faces still weighed on his chest like a stone. They had been dead for two years from an accident on the Bogotá–Villavicencio highway. An intercity bus, a curve taken badly. Jhon still remembered the police call, the feeling of emptiness.
He switched on the coffeemaker. The drip of hot water kept him company. When he came back to his room with the cup in hand, something startled him. On his desk, next to the open laptop —where the night before he had been browsing a forum about "essences" and crazy isekai theories— there was a small bottle that hadn't been there before. It was frosted glass, with a metallic stopper that looked like some expensive perfume, and it held an iridescent liquid that changed color with the light. On the label, written in strange calligraphy, one word could barely be read: GACHA.
He froze, the cup trembling in his hand.
"What the hell…" he muttered.
He glanced around, as if someone could be hiding in his room. The only noise was from the street: a vendor shouting "¡arepa e' huevo!" and the squeal of a SITP's brakes.
He set the coffee down and picked up the bottle. It was cold to the touch, heavier than it looked. It had the texture of something real, not a joke. The first thing he thought was that some friend from the role-playing group was pulling a prank on him. Then, that maybe he was dreaming.
He turned on his laptop and opened Google. He typed "Esencia Gacha CYOA" by reflex. The first search led him to a dark forum in English, with a post from years ago describing exactly what he had in front of him: "Essence of Gacha – Meta CYOA v2.1." He skimmed. The description was identical to what he had seen in memes: possibility of obtaining characters, objects, assimilating them… a "broken" power from any fanfic. The difference was that now it was in his room, breathing and smelling of that bottle. One line in the forum stuck with him: "Once consumed, the Essence bonds immediately with you and its interface manifests."
Jhon swallowed hard. His heart was beating fast. He didn't know if it was fear or excitement. All his life he had fantasized about reincarnating in worlds with magic, with absurd powers. And now he had something that, if real, could change his destiny. Part of him screamed to flush it down the toilet and go on with his normal life. Another part —the stronger— told him: Do it. What do you lose?
He sat on the bed. He unstoppered the bottle. The liquid gave off a sweet aroma, like a mix of vanilla and ozone. He closed his eyes and, without thinking further, brought it to his mouth. The taste was cold and sparkling, as if he were drinking liquid light. As soon as he swallowed, a current ran through his body from his tongue to the nape of his neck, an electric tingling that made his skin prickle. He opened his eyes and dropped the empty bottle. It hit the floor without breaking.
Knowledge crashed into his mind like a tidal wave. The possibilities. The rules.
He could make the power appear however he wanted: a holographic screen, a roulette wheel, cards, etc. Even like that lottery the old folks play where they lose more money than they win.
Since he was used to playing cards with his friends at the U, I decided it would present itself as cards on a holographic screen.
Still savoring the essence —or as I'll call it, Gacha— I absorbed the information.
This isn't like any other gacha, and you can use it whenever you want and spend your money. The rules can be simplified like this:
• It's possible to obtain people, objects and powers from all works of fiction.
• There are other consumables that increase powers, modify appearance and change the personality of characters. Used only once.
• You earn 01 Gacha Point per day.
• You need 03 Gacha per roll.
• You can buy a maximum of 100 Gacha Points monthly, for 4,000 Colombian pesos (or equivalent) per Gacha Point. You can buy in groups of 10 rolls, spending 30 GP and guaranteeing at least one good card (above what you'd normally get). Or you can pay double, 60 GP for 10 rolls, for something specific to the world you're in. Basically that's all. There are other purchase modes where you get free cards, but their level is low.
(Information quite similar to the gacha fanfic in Marvel.)
So normally I would have 130 GP per month (which varies depending on months with 28, 30 or 31 days), of course, if I had money now.
That would give me 43 cards monthly. Getting 400,000 pesos isn't so easy, and there's also the limit of pulls.
I wish this were a U.S. fanfic, where the MC has 100 dollars right away.
He sighed. Leaving that aside, he kept thinking of the possibilities.
"I have to see how powerful they'd be. Apparently better things will come the more you use it, maybe it even stops being limited."
In his vision a translucent screen suddenly appeared, floating in the air in front of him, like a video-game HUD. It had blue borders, white letters and a logo of golden dice spinning.
It had two icons; apparently one was the inventory: that's where the character cards I've forgotten go, what I don't use for some reason, as well as the irrelevant things that didn't help me at all.
"Better be careful, I don't want any outer god coming for me so soon," he thought with a shiver.
The second is more like one of those generic system screens, showing my name, race and some empty spaces for powers, objects and "Character Assimilation."
[1/2] Jhon Ariza Montoza
Race: Human
Gacha Points (1/30) Purchased: 0
Character Assimilation:
Fully assimilated: – None
In progress: – [Empty] [Empty]
Summoned characters: – None
Powers: – None
Equipped items: – None
Then I can absorb or assimilate characters, get their powers or summon them to be my subordinates, lovers, mentors, friends, brothers, etc.
Jhon was left breathless, his lips dry. He moved his hands and the screen followed him. He could touch it with his fingers; it felt a soft resistance like gelatin. He laughed nervously.
"This can't be… this can't be happening. Am I some kind of MC? Am I finally going to have something serious without the fear that she has 30 lovers?"
"Pah."
"Ouch"—touching his face after slapping himself to stop thinking with the head below, Jhon calmed down.
Looking at the screen, he knew it was very identical to the mobile gachas he played, except that now it was in the middle of his real room.
He stood up, walked in circles. Opened the window to let air in. Outside the rain increased and a mist covered the city. A patrol car passed with its siren on. Everything seemed normal, and yet he had in front of his eyes something impossible. He tapped the "Summon" option but only the options came up on the screen. He couldn't do anything without points.
Jhon pressed his lips. He only had one point. According to the gacha's description, he'd earn one per day. He could buy more with money, but he was down to the last with rent and tuition and if he did he'd probably have to go to the U on a donkey.
He dropped into the chair. He looked at the empty bottle on the floor. He picked it up. It was completely clean, with no trace of liquid. It occurred to him he might be hallucinating, that someone had slipped something into his coffee. He pinched his arm. The pain was real. The interface was still there.
He took a deep breath. He had to go to class, even if it was hard to concentrate. He closed the laptop, put the jacket on the bed to put on later and put the notebook in his backpack. The floating screen shrank and folded into the corner of his vision like a phone icon.
After that, I calmed down and went to shower.
When I went into the bathroom, the first thing I saw in the mirror was a guy 1.88 meters tall; a bit tall even in Colombia, but nothing out of this world. My black hair, quite straight, was also messy. My skin, somewhat tanned by daily sun, covered a body with defined muscles. Nothing very bulky, but they would stand out if I took off my shirt or, as at that moment, being naked in the bathroom.
I looked at myself in the mirror, with a distant gaze and dark circles marked by so many sleepless nights, all thanks to procrastination. (Don't procrastinate, kids.)
I stepped into the shower and let the water fall over me.
The water flowed in a constant murmur, bouncing off the tiles and filling the bathroom with a soft echo, as if the world wanted to hush itself to let me think.
While feeling the water run down my body, I kept staring ahead, still processing everything that had happened. First, my parents' death two years ago, something I still hadn't overcome. Second, this essence that until yesterday I thought was fictitious… how the hell am I supposed to act?
I sighed. I really didn't know what to do.
I finished showering, dried myself with the towel and looked in the closet for clothes to go to the U, the usual stuff.
I got dressed and left the apartment.
In the hallway I crossed paths with the janitor, who had already been working for quite a while since early morning. I greeted him with a quick gesture and left the complex.
...
On the street, the cold hit Jhon's face. He walked to the TransMilenio stop dodging puddles. The city bustled as always: students with headphones, office workers rushing, vendors offering empanadas. The sky was a gray slab. Jhon felt like an actor in two different movies: one, the normal one, and another secret one where he had just received a power from another world.
While waiting in line to board the bus, he remembered his mother carrying sacks in the market and his father correcting his math homework. A lump formed in his throat. If they were alive, what would they think of all this? Perhaps his mother would have prayed, his father would have told him to be careful.
He got onto the crowded articulated bus, squeezed between ladies with umbrellas and guys with briefcases. He took out his phone and opened the browser.
He searched again for "Gacha Essence" and reread every line of the forum to convince himself he wasn't crazy. Everything matched. "Summoned people are always loyal… Objects are infinite… You can assimilate powers…" It was too much. It was any geek's fantasy made real.
At the university things didn't improve. He entered the U with his head held high, some people looked at him, but that was all. His classmates were talking about the bus strike, the tuition hike, gossip. No one had any idea that in his head floated a magical interface.
Today he didn't even meet up with his friends; everything seemed slow, on pause, as if the world were giving him time to adapt.
During class, while the professor solved integrals on the board, Jhon discreetly opened the system menu in the corner of his vision. The professor wrote "∫" and he saw "Gacha Points: 1/30" blinking.
The day passed slowly. In the cafeteria he bought a buñuelo and a juice, sat alone at a table. The rain didn't stop. Every so often he checked the system. It was like having a gigantic secret that separated him from the rest of the world.
When leaving the university, Bogotá was jammed. Buses honked, people ran. He bought a tinto in a plastic cup.
The vendor told me: "Hope it helps, because it's raining real hard!"—and I could only smile politely. He walked back to his apartment thinking how his life could change in a moment.
Upon arriving, he took off his wet jacket and let himself fall onto the bed. The interface was still there, like a luminous promise. He tapped "Cards" and a message appeared on the screen:
"No cards available."
He closed his eyes. He listened to the constant murmur of the city, the horns, the drops against the window. In that instant, without him knowing it, something else was about to happen. Far away, in different parts of the world, animals and humans were beginning to feel a strange tingling. But that would be the next day's news. For now, Jhon was alone with his secret, still unadapted, incredulous at everything that had happened.
Thus sleep came and he fell asleep at 5 p.m.
——
Meanwhile...
In a sealed conference room inside the headquarters of the Organization for Andean Cooperation in Quito, the air was thick. There was no press and no civilian advisers, only heads of state, their defense ministers, and a couple of military scientists. The session had gone on for hours and no one had turned on cameras or official recorders.
The president of Colombia, Laura Mendieta, broke the silence. She was a middle-aged woman, gray suit and serious face, former senator from Tolima.
"Gentlemen, these are no longer theories or isolated reports. We have satellite records confirming changes in the ionosphere over the Pacific and anomalous migrations in our jungles," she said, stressing every word. "Jaguars are moving up into areas where there are no prey, and seabirds are coming inland. This is unprecedented."
The president of Brazil, Antônio Barreto, nodded and slid a thick dossier across the table.
"The same in the Amazon. Our climate radars detect magnetic fluctuations every twelve hours. The technicians say 'it's not possible' with known physics, but the data are there."
An invited North American scientist, Dr. Smithson, spoke in Spanish with a forced accent:
"If the projections are correct, in less than ten days we could see a global 'energy awakening.' We don't know whether it's radioactive, biological or of another nature. We call it ether only to have a name."
President Mendieta leaned forward.
"Meanwhile, the press thinks these are climate phenomena. And that's how it must stay, for now. The population is not ready to know that there's something in the atmosphere altering the ecosystems."
The president of Mexico, Rafael Cordero, intervened in a deep voice:
"And what if it's not the atmosphere? What if it's something inside people? Our hospitals are reporting increases of cases with strange symptoms: mild fever, vivid dreams, but no identifiable virus."
Mendieta pressed her lips together.
"Our laboratories too. However, there's no contagion or epidemiological pattern. If this affects the human organism, it's still latent."
The Colombian defense minister, a general named López, set his tablet on the table showing graphs:
"This is the updated map. The 'ether,' as you call it, isn't radiation. It's like a background energy that's rising. If it continues at this pace, in a week there will be visible alterations on every continent."
Those present fell silent, all frowning.
Barreto broke the muteness:
"I propose coordinating joint exercises. The Armed Forces must be ready. If this triggers biological phenomena… we can't improvise."
Mendieta looked at him sharply.
"The last thing we need is panic. Neither troops in the street nor apocalyptic speeches. But yes, we need discreet protocols and a closed channel among our agencies."
Cordero, with his pragmatic lawyer's tone, added:
"And think about the economy. If in a few days people see animals changing behavior, lights in the sky and 'things' on social media, there will be chaos in the markets. We need to contain narratives."
Mendieta closed the dossier and exhaled.
"Then it's settled: climate statements, continuous monitoring, permanent meeting every twenty-four hours. And if something truly strange happens in humans, we will be gathered here before anyone else."
The clock read 6:17 p.m. Outside, Quito dawned as always. Inside, the presidents knew that in a week the world would no longer be the same.
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The darkness of the room was broken by a faint blue flicker. Jhon woke up startled, with a dry mouth and his body heavy from the nap he had taken after class. He looked around, confused, until he noticed the glow in the corner of his vision. The system screen.
He rubbed his eyes. "No… it can't still be there," he murmured. He blinked several times and focused again. The HUD floated, sharp, as if it had been projected from another world.
When he opened his eyes fully, his heart sped up.
"Shit… it's real!" he exclaimed, jumping out of bed.
He began to jump around like crazy, laughing with a mix of relief and madness. He wasn't insane. It wasn't some rare protagonist disorder, nor a fever dream, nor a bad trip. That damn bottle and all the information he had absorbed were real. He really had the Gacha Essence.
"Ha ha ha ha! I'm a damn protagonist, damn it!" he shouted while laughing maniacally, his bare feet thudding against the floor of the room.
After a while, the laughter faded. The euphoria gave way to anxiety. If everything was real, then the rule about points was too. He needed 400 thousand pesos to reach the necessary rolls.
He searched his wallet. He only had a crumpled hundred-thousand bill, just enough for the week.
"With this I can't do anything," he murmured, gritting his teeth.
He thought quickly. The only option was to call his grandparents. They were retired and maybe they could help him with a "loan." He turned on the phone, dialed the number and waited.
He looked upward as if wanting someone to listen and spoke:
"I'm sorry to take a part of your pensions, grandparents, but you know I'll pay it back, parents."
"Ahem… I'll do the best I can."
While the tones rang, the television he had left on launched a news bulletin:
"Breaking news: specialists assure that the recent animal migrations are due to unidentified climate changes. The Government insists there is no danger to the population. It is recommended to remain calm."
Jhon narrowed his eyes.
"Mm, that thing sounds kind of weird," he murmured. It sounded far too much like the "aura resurging" clichés he had read on Chinese forums.
The call was answered.
"Hello, mijito?"—it was his grandmother's tired but firm voice.
"Grandma… how are you? Everything okay at the farm?"
"Well… as well as can be," she answered, but a murmur from his grandfather was heard in the background.
The old man took the phone:
"Jhon, I had to ask for help to kill a chicken today… it went crazy. Imagine! I almost couldn't handle it with the machete, it was jumping like it was possessed."
Jhon froze.
"Grandpa, that's not normal! You have to leave the farm! It's not safe with so many animals around."
The grandfather let out a hoarse laugh.
"Oh boy, don't be so exaggerated. This is life in the countryside. We've always dealt with animals, you see? We're fine here."
The protagonist clenched his teeth. He knew they weren't going to listen. No matter how much he warned them, they loved their farm and their life there.
He sighed.
"All right, but promise me you'll be careful, okay?"
The grandmother took back the call.
"Of course, mijito. And what do you need?"
"Ahem… I just wanted to call to see how you were, can't your favorite grandson call you?"
There was a silence on the line, only for his grandmother to speak.
"Talk and stop with stories, what do you need?"
"Eh…"—he swallowed—"I need a loan for the university. It's urgent, grandparents. I'll pay you back later, I swear."
"Mmm… well, but we only have 400, don't waste the money, if not I'm not going to give you more," she said without much hesitation.
Jhon felt relief run through his body.
If it weren't my grandmother, I'd think I have a sugar mommy.
"Thank you… really, thank you."
But suddenly he remembered his grandparents' age.
"Wait, you know how to send transfers?"
"Who are you talking to? If I know how to use the machete, I also know how to handle that device," said the grandfather, interrupting with a bit of annoyance at being underestimated.
"Ha ha ha, all right then," Jhon could only shake his head laughing.
"Well son, take care, I have to go make dinner."
"Okay grandma, you take care too."
"Bye," she was going to hang up, but before that he heard a murmur on the call.
"Andrés, why do you go inventing, now how are we going to send that? Don't even know how to cook, much less handle that device," whispered his grandmother, surely without realizing she hadn't hung up.
"Ahem, tell that neighbor with the cell phone to do us the favor, he comes here to eat anyway and does nothing," replied the grandfather with audible embarrassment.
"He sighed, all for not being honest."
"You know that young people nowadays, if you don't tell them you know everything, they think you're old-fashioned."
Stopping listening to their discussion, Jhon hung up with a grimace, hoping the neighbor really did know how to send a transfer.
However, he was still worried, but with a clear mind: now he had what he needed, he just had to wait for them to send it to him.
Just then, another call rang. On the screen: Miriam.
"Shit…" he whispered, answering.
"Hello, Jhon?"—her voice sounded soft, with a hint of doubt—"Everything okay? Today I saw you weird, you left the U very quickly."
He took a deep breath.
"Yeah, my head was full… I needed to rest a bit."
There was a brief silence.
"Hey… have you already seen what's happening in the world?"
"I'm watching the news," he said, frowning.
—"No, not those. I'm talking about what's going around on Tok Tok"—she said in a serious tone—"There are videos of birds migrating in giant flocks, birds bigger than normal… dogs with sharp teeth chasing their owners… and on the savanna they recorded muscular lions fighting hippos."
Jhon put the call on speaker and looked up the videos. The images left him silent: what she was saying was real.
"What the shit…," observing the changes in the animals, something almost fantastical, he cursed.
However, since he wasn't directly affected, he didn't give it that much importance; he needed to get something done to focus on something else afterward.
But, knowing how to throw hooks, he threw one.
"Take care, Miriam, things are weird lately on the planet, I don't want anything to happen to you"—he said finally, with a grave voice.
"You too, Jhon."
There was an awkward silence. Miriam sighed and hesitated a moment before speaking:
"Hey… do you want to come to my apartment? We can talk…"
On the other side, she brought the phone to her chest, waiting anxiously for his answer.
Jhon closed his eyes. He wanted to confess everything to her, what he felt for her, about the essence; he knew it wasn't the best thing and even so he wanted to. But he forced himself to stay calm.
"I'll do the best I can to go. I'll let you know as soon as I'm on my way."
"Hehe, I'll be waiting for you"—she said, with an excited tone.
They hung up.
The protagonist took a deep breath and at that moment a transfer appeared on the screen to his bank account; they had sent 400 thousand to his account. Having already the 400 thousand, he thought about how to transfer the money to the screen. In the end the screen shone and the counter went up.
GachaPoints:101
With a nervous smile, he chose the option of general draws of random cards from fictional worlds. He decided to spend 60 points: 2 ten-card draws.
The holographic roulette spun in front of his eyes. Golden light, metallic sounds, as if someone were shuffling an infinite deck of destinies.
The cards began to materialize:
First draw (10 cards):
– Ancestral katana (Historical Samurais)
"Well, at least it helps me get famous on Tok Tok."
– Background customization cards x2
"I guess for my summons"
– Basic alchemy book (Fullmetal Alchemist)
"Damn, damn," Jhon had already begun to walk around the living room.
– Neutralizer gun (Generic Sci-Fi)
– Power Boost Card x1
– Martial techniques scroll (Classic Kung Fu)
"I give this to a Chinese and he'll probably put me in his ancestor book," he spoke out loud, almost laughing.
"Ahem, no discrimination"
– Curse-protection amulet (European folklore)
"Mm, strange"
– Jason Todd (DC)
Opening his eyes and mouth, forming a big O, he jumped with his arms open.
"HAHAHAHAH, damn Jason Todd, let's gooo!" He was so excited he almost dropped a vase.
"Almost," with a sigh, he grabbed the vase and set it back in place.
So he kept going with the cards.
– Minor recovery elixir (Classic RPG)
"I guess it'll help me when I get hurt, though I don't want that to be soon."
– Stand: Echoes ACT1 (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)
"Gulp," he swallowed realizing that although his first draw wasn't that strong, it was much better than he expected; I mean, who expects to become multiversal right away?
If my luck were good, I'd want that too. But with all the things that have happened to me, I think I used up all my luck on being chosen by the essence. If the essence even chooses its bearer and my multiversal-ranked future self didn't give it to me, right?
I thought looking upward, waiting for a sign from my OP future self, but I received nothing.
"Sigh. I guess I expected too much."
"All right, let's spin the second gacha and then see what to assimilate."
Breathing deeply, he looked for the sofa to sit down again, avoiding knocking over another vase or maybe a portrait.
Pressing on the screen in front of him for the second draw, these came out:
– Background customization cards x3
"It'll help me a lot, but now what I want is power"
– Weakness elimination card x1
– Tactical firearms manual (Call of Duty)
"With Jason this manual won't be so necessary, but better that than nothing."
– Short enchanted sword +1 (D&D)
"Okayyy, I'll have to research about D&D"
– 200 CP
"What are they for?" he tried to look for some function but couldn't find one, so he simply waited for it to finish
– Power Boost Card x2
– Backpack with medical supplies (The Walking Dead)
Standing up again to walk around the living room, he thought out loud:
"I'm starting to get a bit panicked with this shit, why so many med kits? Gacha is supposed to help its holder, and it looks like it's preparing me for something."
Without having answers, he saw the last 3 cards while still walking around the house.
– Sawed-off shotgun with limited ammo
– Loki (MCU)
Staying still, he touched the screen to see if it was a joke.
Seeing it was real, he got excited, thinking he'd gotten an OP character from the start.
"Now I'll have the power to control stories, right? HAHAHA, I'm OP damn it."
But suddenly…
"Wait," having a bad premonition, he checked first.
Pressing the card, certain information about the character came up:
Loki – Earth 199999, before Thanos' attack.
Looking at the screen, Jhon had a face like he'd been given dog shit.
"Damn, I thought everything was going to be easy from now on, girls here, girls there, aura farming here, aura farming there."
"I guess this happens for assuming before reading well."
With a sigh, he better kept looking at the last cards.
– Multifunctional toolbox (Metal Gear)
"Meh"
Sitting for the second time on the sofa, he stayed looking at the screen with a serious face.
"All right, enough jokes, it's time to assimilate"
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Author's Note
Hi, I wanted to talk to you a bit about the story:
I really want to work hard on this, but since I have a lot of things from the U and I'm new at writing, I'll probably only do one or two chapters a week.
The reason I've taken long with the gachas is because I want his original world not to be normal, and yes, I based it on those Chinese "aura resurgence" novels, so there's also plot in the world outside the fictional ones (if that's what you can call them).
Since I don't want the world to fall short of the MC's powers, there will be pretty powerful people awakening in the protagonist's original world, so it won't be completely boring.
Another thing, there will be harem, so I don't care if there are people who don't like it, there's a tag. Now, I want to try to be "realistic," but as it will be hard for the women of this century in his original world, I don't think he'll stay with some, so that shit doesn't count as NTR. I mean, if there's a woman who rejects the MC for any reason, no matter how much it hurts, after a while he'll forget that. No need to waste yourself mentally.
So I don't want the typical comments about him staying with all of them; I'll try, but it'll depend on the personalities I give to the characters.
Yes there will be plenty of R18. Also, the fanfic won't be as serious as the Eidolon fanfic, but I'll do the best I can.
The End.