[Death has reached you.]
[You have fulfilled the hidden conditions necessary to inherit the Sin of the Meaningless.]
[Analyzing soul integrity...]
[Analyzing emotional resonance...]
[Analyzing final thoughts...]
[Requirements Met.]
[You who have wandered without anchor, who have searched without finding, who have lived without living— you are deemed worthy.]
[The Sin of the Meaningless has chosen you.]
[Warning: This inheritance is irreversible.]
[Warning: All prior attachments will be severed.]
[Warning: Former identity will begin dissolution.]
[Body Decomposition: Initiated.]
[Consciousness Preservation: Stabilizing...]
[Transfer to Vessel of Sin: In Progress.]
What… the hell?
The words floated in front of Seth like some kind of weird game notification that he often saw on video games...
His head throbbed, his vision blurry as the messages burned into his mind.
They felt less like words and more like concepts being branded directly onto his soul.
Then—
Seth's eyes flew open to absolute blackness.
His lungs tightened.
A crushing weight pressed down on his chest.
He gasped— only for his mouth to fill with damp earth and the rotten stench of old wood.
Panic filled up his mind immediately.
Where was he?
Why was it so dark?
His fingers scraped against rough, splintered planks just inches from his face.
I'm in a coffin.
The realization hit like a punch to the gut.
Memories flew back into his mind...
He remembered the knife plunging into his stomach, the warmth of his own blood spilling over his hands, Monica's tear-streaked face as she yanked the blade free.
She killed me...
And yet… he was alive.
No. No, no. I'm being buried alive!
His heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst.
Calm down... Breathe... Think!
He forced himself to take slow, shallow breaths, trying to conserve the little air left in the cramped space.
The coffin felt old and a bit rotting...
Since it felt old, that meant it wouldn't be that sturdy! So there had to be a way out!
Bracing his knees against the bottom, he shoved his back upward with every ounce of strength he had.
CRACK.
The wood above him splintered.
Cold dirt poured in, filling his mouth and nose.
Seth choked and gagged.
He spat out soil, clawing at the opening. His fingers tore through the earth, nails ripping as he dug upward.
Mud packed under his fingernails, his muscles felt like they were burning alive!
But he didn't stop...
Couldn't stop...
No way in hell would he want to be buried alive!
Then... his hand finally broke through!
Cold air rushed in as Seth hauled himself out of the grave, collapsing onto the damp earth.
He coughed violently, dirt and bile spilling from his lips.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting the graveyard in an eerie silver glow...
He looked around him to see where he was...
He seemed to be in a small, neglected clearing in a dense forest...
A single, crooked headstone placed on the ground where he'd emerged.
The date on it was worn, the name faded... but the language... it was strange, a series of elegant, looping symbols he was sure he'd never seen before...
Yet he understood their meaning perfectly.
A crow cawed from a nearby tree, watching him with gleaming black eyes.
Seth staggered to his feet, legs shaking.
His clothes, a plain linen tunic and trousers, were soaked in grave dampness.
Then he noticed something else.
His hands.
They weren't his.
They looked paler and younger...
And there were no calluses from years of guitar playing.
'This isn't my body…'
His stomach twisted.
Slowly, dreading what he would see, he turned back to the grave.
The headstone stood crooked, its surface weathered and moss-eaten.
Most of the name had been scoured away by decades of rain and wind... except for one stubbornly clear, deeply carved word:
ARDEN.
His last name.
But this couldn't be right...
The headstone looked decades old, yet hadn't he just been killed...?
'Did I lose consciousness and have actually been buried for years...?'
'No... I don't look like I'm skin and bones...'
He thought, analyzing the situation properly, trying to make sense of it.
He definitely has not been buried long...
Although he felt hungry and thirsty as though he hadn't eaten in quite a long while...
But that would mean he's only been buried for a few days!
He touched his stomach where the knife had gone in.
There was no wound!
Just smooth, unmarked skin...
A cold wind rattled through the forest, carrying the damp scent of rotting leaves.
Seth spun around, suddenly realizing how wrong everything seemed..
"Hello?"
His voice sounded strange to his own ears.
Was it even his voice...?
"Anyone there?"
Only silence answered.
The forest stretched endlessly in every direction...
Tall oaks with gnarled branches, their leaves danced as the win swayed them gently..
And amidst this isolated place, only one grave was there...
His grave.
His breath came faster.
Nothing about this felt right...
Why was he buried here in such an isolated place?
And why did he wake up in a body that did not seem to be his?
"Help!"
He shouted again, louder this time.
Nothing...
He could not hear any distant voices, nor could he hear the sound of footsteps when there were people.
Swallowing hard, Seth picked a direction and started walking randomly...
The undergrowth crackled underfoot, every sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.
His bare feet caught on roots and stones, but he barely felt the pain.
After what felt like hours, he spotted it... a narrow path worn into the earth!
Not by animals, but by people.
Many people, over many years!
The sight sent a jolt of hope in him.
This meant that this road could lead to people!
Perhaps the City!
Seth quickened his pace, following the twisting trail between the old and tall trees.
His mind raced faster than his feet.
Different body... strange forest... and that creepy grave with his name.
'Did I transmigrate? Is that it?'
He wondered, the fantasy novels he'd read feeling absurdly inadequate.
'But usually, people wake up in a bed, maybe with a headache. Not clawing their way out of their own damn coffin in a body that's not theirs!'
A twig snapped somewhere ahead.
Seth froze.
That wasn't the wind.
Was it a wild animal?
No... Seth heard footsteps.
Real, human footsteps.
Hope flared in his chest.
He crashed through the undergrowth toward the sound.
Branches whipped at his arms as he ran, not caring about the noise anymore.
He burst into a small clearing and nearly collided with a woman.
She was petite, with wavy black hair framing dark skin that glowed in the candlelight.
She wore a flowing black dress and practical leather boots, an outfit out of time.
In her hands, a single candle flickered, its tiny flame flickering, almost turning off in the sudden breeze of his arrival.
She gasped, the candle trembling violently.
"Seth?"
Her voice was a high, sweet whisper, toned with disbelief.
"You... how are you standing there? I... We buried you three days ago!"
Seeing that she knew him, Seth quickly forced himself to think straight.
'A relative?'
'Someone who knows this body…'
'How does she know my name...? I've never seen her before...'
Do I act like I remember her? Or pretend I've lost my memories…
He kept his face calm and put on a confused look.
"Who are you?"
He asked, letting his voice waver.
He looked around the area, then back at her, his gaze deliberately lost.
"Where am I… What happened to me?"
Seth truly did not know where he was and how he ended up here!
Not to mention, his own body and voice all felt strange!
This definitely was not his original body!
The woman fell silent, staring at him as if searching his eyes for a lie.
Then, the tension seemed to break in her.
She let out a choked sob, rushed forward, and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"Oh, Seth."
She cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
"It's me, Phoebe! Don't you remember? I'm so glad you're alive… by the goddess's grace, how is this possible?"
She said as she quickly let go of her embrace, as though not wanting too much physical interaction.
"Phoebe…?"
Seth repeated, forcing a distant, puzzled frown.
"I'm sorry, I don't remember that name…"
Phoebe pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her brow furrowing in worry.
The initial joy in her face was being rapidly replaced by a deep, wary sadness.
She saw only a hollow stranger looking back at her.
She grabbed his arm firmly.
"We have to go back..."
She said, starting to pull him along the path.
"Your little sister has been crying every night ever since you left…The goddess must have finally taken pity on her and brought you back."
Seth stumbled along beside her, his mind reeling.
Resurrection? A goddess?
Was this far beyond a simple transmigration...?
"Does that... happen often?"
He asked, keeping his tone soft, naive.
"People coming back from the dead?"
He asked quietly.
Phoebe stopped so abruptly he almost stumbled.
She turned to him, the candlelight casting deep shadows across her face, making her expression unreadable.
"Ah… you're right. You wouldn't know."
She bit her lip, her eyes darting nervously down the path ahead.
"No, Seth. It's not common. It's… it's unheard of. If the back at your place see you walking back into town after we put you in the ground... they won't see a miracle. They'll see a walking curse, an abomination sent by the devils!"
She bit her lip, thinking hard.
Then she pulled off her hood and handed it to him.
"Here. Put this on. Keep your head down. We'll sneak you to my house first… then figure out what to do next."
Seth took the hood and slipped it over his head, hiding his pale skin and unfamiliar features.
As Phoebe led him away through the dark forest, a single thought was in his mind.
'What the hell is happening?'