The moment it shut behind him, the world shifted.
His body felt light, his senses dulled, and a strange warmth settled over him—like slipping into a dream.
A voice echoed around him, deep and smooth.
"To become an adventurer is to face the unknown. To step beyond fear and doubt. But first… you must face yourself."
James’s stomach twisted. "Oh, great. That sounds ominous."
The darkness rippled, and suddenly—
He was somewhere else.
James blinked, feeling the sudden weight of reality pressing down on him. He stood in a cramped apartment, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee, unwashed laundry, and something vaguely burnt. The glow of a computer screen cast flickering shadows against the walls, illuminating the cluttered desk in front of him.
He knew this place.
His old home.
A lump formed in his throat. The world outside the window was frozen, cars stopped mid-motion, streetlights locked in an eternal red. Time had no meaning here.
James took a slow breath and turned toward the desk. His old PC hummed softly, the screen displaying a familiar sight: a game menu, character creation, his cursor hovering over the "confirm" button.
It was the night he left everything behind.
A soft beep caught his attention. He turned.
His phone sat on the desk, a single notification glowing on the screen.
James swallowed hard, stepping closer. He already knew what it said.
Missed Call: Mom
His grip tightened.
The screen flickered, and suddenly—
BANG.
The room shook, the shadows stretching unnaturally. His phone cracked, and new words appeared.
You ran away.
James took a step back, his heart pounding. "No. This isn’t real."
The voice returned, calm but unwavering.
"An adventurer must have resolve. Must face the past, not run from it. Will you stand, or will you flee once more?"
The apartment shattered, dissolving into scattered pieces of memory.
James now stood in a hospital room, the steady beeping of a heart monitor filling the silence. The dim fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
A frail woman lay in the hospital bed, tubes and wires hooked up to her arms. Her breathing was slow, labored.
His mother.
James felt a cold weight settle in his chest. He knew this moment.
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He watched himself—his past self—standing at the doorway, clutching his phone. Hesitating.
She turned her head slightly, a tired but warm smile on her lips.
“James… you came.”
James clenched his fists. No. He hadn’t.
This wasn’t real.
This was the day he didn’t show up.
The voice whispered around him.
"Regret does not fade with time. It festers. Do you understand now?"
James’s breathing grew unsteady.
The memory twisted. The hospital walls darkened, the machines distorted into grotesque shapes. The beeping of the monitor sped up, turning into a frantic, deafening pulse.
His mother’s face withered, eyes turning hollow.
"James…"
Her voice cracked, her frail fingers reaching for him—
James stumbled back.
"I— I didn’t mean to—"
Darkness rushed in, swallowing everything.
James gasped as he fell into an endless void, weightless, lost.
But he wasn’t alone.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
At first, it was just a shadow—but then it took shape.
James stared at himself.
But it wasn’t just a mirror image.
This version of him had dull, lifeless eyes. His skin was pale, almost sickly. He wore the same clothes from the night he disappeared into gaming, into escapism.
His other self tilted his head. "You really think running away changed anything?"
James’s throat tightened.
His doppelg?nger took a step forward, shadows twisting around him.
"You left everything behind."
The voice was cold. Empty.
James’s fists clenched. "That’s not—"
"You abandoned them."
James gritted his teeth. "Shut up."
His other self smirked. "Or what?"
Suddenly, he moved. Fast.
James barely dodged as a blade materialized in the shadow’s hand, slashing through the air where his head had been a moment ago.
James’s cursed sword flashed into existence, its eerie black steel humming with power.
"Oh, great," James muttered. "Of course, this had to end in a fight."
His shadow self lunged.
The first strike sent James skidding backward, his arms screaming from the impact.
His other self was faster, stronger, moving like something inhuman. Every swing of his blade carried weight, forcing James to dodge rather than block.
"This is unfair!" James shouted, barely rolling out of the way of a downward strike that cracked the ground beneath him.
His doppelg?nger laughed. "Life isn’t fair, James. You should know that by now."
James barely had a moment to react before his shadow self closed the distance again.
A kick to the ribs sent James flying, crashing into an unseen force. Pain exploded through his body.
He rolled, barely getting his sword up in time to block another brutal overhead slash. Sparks flew as steel met steel.
James gritted his teeth. This wasn’t just a fight.
This was punishment.
His past was beating him down.
"I’m not that person anymore!" James roared, shoving back against the blade.
His shadow self grinned. "Then prove it."
Dark tendrils lashed out, wrapping around James’s limbs. He fought against them, but they dragged him down, constricting tighter and tighter.
His doppelg?nger loomed over him. "You don’t deserve a second chance."
James felt rage bubble up inside him.
He wasn’t going to let this thing—this version of himself—decide his fate.
With a guttural shout, he forced his sword forward, slamming it through the tendrils and breaking free.
His other self staggered back, eyes widening slightly.
James pushed forward, swinging his blade with everything he had.
Their swords clashed again—this time, James didn’t back down. He met every strike, fighting harder, pushing through the pain.
One cut across his arm. Another across his side.
But he kept going.
He wasn’t running anymore.
His doppelg?nger faltered, his movements growing slower.
James saw the opening—and took it.
With a final, powerful slash, his sword pierced through his other self’s chest.
His shadow self let out a shuddering breath, staring at him.
For the first time, his expression softened.
"Then prove it."
And with that, he vanished.
James collapsed onto solid ground, his breaths ragged.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in the Guild’s testing chamber.
The receptionist stood over him, looking mildly impressed. “Well, you survived. That’s a good start.”
James groaned, rubbing his temple. “What the hell was that?”
“Your trial.” She held out a small, engraved Adventurer’s License. “And you passed.”
James took it, his hands still shaking slightly.
Lyra stood close by, grinning. “Took you long enough.”
James exhaled, staring at the license in his hands.
A new beginning. A fresh start.