Eve

Year 2176, October 13th.

In a dimly lit room, a young man could be seen sitting on his bed with his blankets wrapped around comfortably.

He had dark bags under his exhausted ashen eyes, messy dark hair that reached his neck, and bandages wrapped around his face.

The room was quite basic with a bed in the corner and a television set up on the wall right next to it.

There was a desk stationed right at the end of the bed and a closet opposite it.

A single window existed between the bed and the TV but it had curtains drawn over it, blocking the view.

The only source of light in the room was the television as the boy looked to be quite engrossed in what was on it.

With a tightly grasped controller, he continued his streak of 30 hours straight.

'Just die already!' He screamed in his head.

On the screen, a monstrous demon was depicted facing a man clad in onyx armor.

The man rolled and dodged the relentless charge of the demon and counterattacked with his platinum saber when needed.

The red bar indicating the health points of the boss gradually decreased as time went on and it seemed like he would win this attempt.

That would have been the thought of a person who didn't notice the green bar, under the username "EVE", representing stamina on the game HUD decreasing even faster.

'Come on, come on!'

With the rate of the boss monster accumulated damage and the rate at which the player lost stamina points with no way to regain them, the chance of victory depended on pure luck.

Seconds ticked by as sweat beads formed on the boy's forehead.

He carefully planned out each strike before tapping the attack button, careful to not waste unnecessary energy with a skill that would use too much stamina but less damage proportionate to it.

With each successful strike, victory came closer but the boy soon realized the difference in status more and more.

'Damn it, I can't make it.'

Upon the realization, his determination ran out.

His movements in-game became more crude and erratic as he lost the will to keep playing.

'Maybe tomorrow then. Yeah, tomorrow it is, I will definitely beat it then.'

Even though he made peace with his demise, he didn't stop. He wanted to see how much he could do before he went out.

His eyes blurred as sleepiness washed over him.

Seeing his stamina reach single digits, he became sure of his fate.

'Less than 2% health points remaining. Damn, I was really close this time huh.'

Using half of his remaining stamina, he rolled behind and sent a magic slash toward the boss that dealt mediocre damage with a low critical strike chance in return for a low stamina cost.

However, luck shined upon him as the notification flashed in front of his eyes.

[Critical strike!]

[Dealt 275% more damage than usual]

[20% more physical attack for 3 seconds under the effect of [Midnight Armor]]

His eyes widened and adrenaline drove away the sleepiness.

'0.4% left! I can do it!'

Armed with a new energy rush and excitement, he continued playing.

It was notoriously difficult for him to not rush in and deal the final blow. This was his chance and he couldn't afford to mess it up.

The boss too, went into a berserk state as its last stand. The previous pattern was discarded, and a new erratic and wild pattern took its place.

'Damn it!'

Faced against the unknown, primal fear took hold and he accidentally pressed the attack button.

He held his breath and cursed inwardly as the same magic slash flew from his sword in the game and headed toward the boss.

At the same time, the boss sent a fireball his way, causing him to frantically press dodge.

Which would hit first, the magic slash or the fireball? 

The answer was revealed a split second later.

The slash hit first, causing the boss to go into the death animation.

"Truly a mighty foe… One befitting the title of the elder king." It exclaimed as it slowly turned to dust.

On the other side, the player narrowly avoided the fireball only to be caught in the explosion that came after.

[Game Over]

[Start from the previous save point?]

[*Yes  *No]

Eve stared at the screen with a poker face and then spat a curse.

"Stupid game design. Why does the boss get to have an extended death animation while the playable character just gets deleted out of existence once the health reaches 0?"

"Stupid, idiotic, annoying, shitty." He mumbled as he collapsed on his bed.

Eve closed his eyes and let loose, fully preparing himself to be immersed in the sweet release of slumber.

His consciousness was dazed as he drifted away into the dreamland.

His chest felt hot all of a sudden as he found himself in the middle of an endless dark void.

"Where… am… I…?"

A deep voice was heard.

A voice that seemed more like a growl, an inhumane voice that sent shivers down his spine.

"Who… am... I...?"

His chest tightened and he found it hard to breathe.

'What is happening?

Is this a nightmare?'

If it was a nightmare, then he could wake up from it.

But reality was not that kind.

Each passing second felt like an eternity as he felt something invading his body.

Something alien… something vile.

He felt his body was rejecting him. He wanted to scream and cry out for help.

"Eve, Wake up, it's time for dinner." A voice reached his ears as a rough, calloused hand tapped on his shoulders.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the person in front of him and sighed with relief.

"Good morning, grandpa." He yawned.

"Wait a sec, dinner? It's already so late?"

The grandfather shook his head in disappointment.

"At least fix your sleep schedule. If you keep living like this, you won't reach my age, you know?"

Eve's grandfather had short gray hair, kind brown eyes, and a burly white beard.

If not for his buff stature with his well-built body and height of 1.9m, he would have become an excellent Santa Claus with the right outfit and slightly longer beard.

"I will try… after I eat something."

He left his room and descended the stairs while ignoring a certain painting on the wall.

After he got off the stairs, he turned left and went into the dining room.

There, he saw a blonde woman in her 60s. He ignored her, picked up his plate on the table, and took the stairs again.

The grandfather came down the stairs not too long after. The woman glared at him.

She took a cigarette from her pocket and lit it up "Jonathan, he is turning 16 soon, right? How long are you going to keep him in this household?" 

"As long as he needs, honey." The grandfather said with a tired expression. 

"We already talked about it before. He didn't ask to be born, how his mother turned out was our fault. We were too strict with her, She was bound to snap and go off the rails eventually."

The grandmother gritted her teeth in response and said in a strained voice.

"We raised her just fine. She just wasn't strong enough for the path we have worked so hard to create and strayed off with a mongrel-"

"That's enough, Charlotte" The grandfather intervened.

"We won't talk about this any longer. The boy will stay and that is my decision. Even if his parents were questionable, it is our duty as his grandparents to take care of him in their stead." He concluded.

Even though he seemed to be on Eve's complete side, he had his doubts.

First of all, his name was a painful reminder of his father.

The name, Ivarage, is the name of an evil dragon in the fairytale that Jonathan used to read to his daughter.

In the story, Ivarage woke up from his slumber and wrought havoc on the world, only to be stopped and sealed by the perfect heroine.

Ever since she was a child, she said she would become just like the heroine. Beautiful, strong, smart, and capable. 

However, the fact that she named her son 'Ivarage' showed her descent into substandard and inferiority. 

She graduated her high school with top grades with several gold medals, only to get addicted to drugs and get into the life of a prostitute during her university years.

Charlotte blamed her daughter's boyfriend for her change but he protested that he was innocent and Jonathan believed him.

One day, she showed up with Ivarage in her arms and then died soon after.

Before she showed up though, she had registered her son as an official citizen and put up his name in his documents.

Due to this reason, Jonathan and Charlotte couldn't change his name so they called him Eve.

Jonathan adopted Eve to rectify his past mistakes while Charlotte completely and utterly despised him. She expressed her hostility by doing absolutely nothing for him.

She refused to cook for him, forcing Jonathan to take the profession of household chef as his secondary job.

He started out rough but over the course of 16 years, his cooking became comparable to that of a seasoned chef.

He also allowed Eve to do whatever he wanted without forcing him as he did in the past. If he wanted an expensive gaming console, he would get it. If he wanted to own a pet then he would go out and buy one.

His main job was a manager at an extremely rich corporation so he could afford almost everything his grandson asked him for.

And those requests were certainly many. Whenever Eve got a new toy or a device to play with, it was found broken or inaccessible the next day.

He had a suspect in mind so he instructed Eve to lock his door and windows when he slept. That drastically reduced the number of broken things.

Certain requests like going to the moon were bound to be met with some difficulties being granted.

He spoiled him so much that Eve didn't know the word 'School' until he was 13 years old.

And it's not like he had a choice either. His daughter, Luna, was the pride and joy of the entire city, not just the household.

Her downfall echoed throughout the entire country and made certain people hostile to Eve.

Jonathan and Charlotte were not very well known even if they were parents of a celebrity. However, Eve was. The story of how an academic superstar came to the hospital to give birth while intoxicated spread far and wide.

Eve had to be sheltered during his early years. The stigma of her mother and the shady people she interacted with was plenty of a reason for that.

There was no hope for the boy. His only saving grace was his grandfather and his time was not long.

'In the end, it's up to you, Eve.' Jonathan thought.

'Eve, I know you can do great things. Someday, you will be forced to leave this home one way or another and once you do, rise up and rise high.'

Jonathan prayed with the bottom of his soul for his grandson, a prayer for the boy on the second floor of the building.