Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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I've always thought of myself as pretty normal. At 24, I'm just a regular guy, married, navigating life's ups and downs. But normality, I've come to realize, is a relative term. Let me explain.

My family is a mosaic of personalities and histories. I'm sandwiched between three older brothers and three younger sisters, making our house always bustling with noise and activities. My parents, well, they've had their fair share of romantic endeavors. Dad is currently on his fifth marriage, and Mom, not far behind, is on her third. Their series of marriages and divorces painted a colorful backdrop to my childhood.

Health-wise, I seem to have drawn the short straw. I'm always sick, which has become a running joke in the family, but it's not all bad. My hobbies keep me grounded. I love board games, hiking, camping, movies, video games, reading, and writing. Basically, anything your average college student might be into.

Speaking of college, my wife, the star she is, recently got her master's degree. Me? I'm still plugging away at my associate's degree. We have three rabbits at home, which are more like our fur babies. They're a constant source of joy and, well, occasional chaos.

But here's where things take a turn. I'm pretty sure I died. I know how that sounds, but hear me out. I was being treated for pneumonia, a regular visitor in my life, and I went to bed one night feeling particularly awful. I never woke up. At least, not in the way I expected.

I find myself now in a dark void. It's not scary, just... empty. Infinite. I have so many questions, but the overwhelming one is: What happens next? Is this what the afterlife is? Just me and my thoughts in endless darkness?

As I float here, I reflect on my life. I think about my family – the chaos, the love, the drama. I think about my wife, her smile, her intelligence, how she's probably worried sick about me. I think about our rabbits, probably hopping around, oblivious to the fact that their owner has stepped into the unknown.

What does it mean to be alive? This question, once a fleeting philosophical musing, now presses upon me with unnerving urgency. I find myself engulfed in an endless expanse of darkness, a black void stretching infinitely in every direction. It's a stark contrast to the usual nothingness of my dreamless nights.

As I drift aimlessly in this abyss, the boundaries between consciousness and unconsciousness blur. The darkness around me is not just an absence of light but an absence of everything – sound, touch, time. It's a void where thoughts echo without a source, without an end. In this vacuum, the question of life's essence becomes more than an intellectual exercise; it becomes a desperate search for a tether, something to anchor my existence.

I wonder if being alive is about feeling – the caress of a breeze, the warmth of sunlight, the ache of a broken heart. But here, in this emptiness, sensations are distant memories. Can one be alive without the ability to feel? Without pain or pleasure, love or hate? I ponder over this as the darkness seems to pulse around me, as if it's alive, mocking my confusion, my fear.

Then, I think of memories. They say that life flashes before your eyes in the moments before death. Perhaps being alive is simply the act of accumulating experiences, moments stitched together into the tapestry of one's existence. Yet, as I try to grasp at the threads of my past, they slip away, intangible and elusive. Memories need a mind to reside in, and in this void, my mind feels fragmented, scattered like stardust in an endless cosmos.

Is life defined by the connections we make, then? The bonds we form with others, the shared smiles and tears, the whispered secrets in the dead of night. But here, in this solitary confinement, there are no others. There is only me, and the ever-present question that haunts me like a specter. How can one be alive in total isolation, cut off from the world, from humanity?

I consider the beating of a heart, the rhythm of breath – the biological markers of life. But what use are these in a place where biology seems irrelevant, where the concept of a physical body is as abstract as the darkness itself? If a heart beats in a void, does it make a sound? Does it signify life?

Perhaps being alive is not about the tangible, the explainable. Maybe it's about the intangible – hopes, dreams, fears, the very essence of thought and consciousness. In this emptiness, thoughts are the only proof of my existence. They flutter around like butterflies in a moonlit garden, fragile yet resilient. Each thought is a spark in the void, a tiny beacon of light in the overwhelming darkness.

But thoughts can be as tormenting as they are comforting. They raise questions that have no answers, create images of a world that I am no longer a part of. They remind me of the life I once had, the life I am unsure I still possess. Is this the curse of being alive? To be forever plagued by questions, by doubts, by the unceasing search for meaning?

In the end, I realize that the answer to my question is as elusive as the concept of life itself. To be alive is to exist in a state of constant flux, a journey through light and darkness, sound and silence, connection and isolation. It's an experience that is deeply personal, yet universally shared. And in this moment, floating in the void, I am alive – questioning, thinking, existing. For now, that has to be enough.

When I will my body to move, there's a sensation of motion, though my surroundings remain an unchanging void. I can't see my hands, but I can feel my fingers flex, and eventually, I manage to press my palms together. The sensation is unmistakably real.

Am I dead?

"You are neither dead nor alive."

Startled, I spin around, trying to locate the source of the voice. "Who's there?" I demand, my voice echoing in the emptiness.

The voice, calm and omnipresent, seems to emanate from the void itself. "You are in the threshold, James Black. A place between realities, a nexus of what is to come."

"A nexus? What do you mean?" I ask, squinting into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of the speaker.

"The multiverse, as you know it, is undergoing a transformation," the voice explains, as if sensing my confusion. "For the first time in history, separate universes are merging into one. Marvel, DC, Harry Potter, Highschool DxD- at least as you know them - all are becoming facets of a singular, unified reality."

I struggle to grasp the enormity of what's being said. "But why? How is this even possible?"

"The boundaries that once separated these worlds have thinned," the voice continues. "This convergence is inevitable. And you, James Black, are an anomaly. You are the only one who will remember the distinct universes as they once were. You just happened to fall asleep at the nexus point. All the energies killed you and erased you from all the universes. This was not to be allowed, so you will be reborn in the new convergence."

A chill runs down my spine. "So, everyone else will just accept this new reality as if it's always been?"

"Precisely. They will be none the wiser. Their histories, memories, and identities will seamlessly integrate into this new unified universe. For now, know this: your role in this new world is crucial. You will serve as a bridge, a guide, and perhaps... a guardian."

A guardian? The word resonates with a strange sense of responsibility. The voice fades away, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the vast, dark expanse. I have to find out more. I have to understand what my role in this new, merged universe is.

As the reality of my situation sinks in, the darkness begins to dissipate, giving way to a faint light. It's time to face this new world, to unravel the mysteries of this unprecedented convergence. With a deep breath, I step forward into the unknown, ready to explore the amalgamated universe that awaits.

As the encompassing darkness gradually gives way, I find myself standing within a bright, white circle of light. The air around me is tinged with a smoky haze, which slowly fades into the surrounding void, creating an ethereal atmosphere. It feels surreal, like stepping onto a stage set for a performance unknown to me.

Just as I'm trying to make sense of my surroundings, a blue, transparent box materializes in front of me. Its sudden appearance startles me, but I can't help but be drawn to its contents. The box displays a message in bold, inviting letters:

"Welcome to DreamPoint, the world's first full-dive virtual reality game. Explore a world of magic, superpowers, demons, angels, and all sorts of fun."

My eyes widen in disbelief. A virtual reality game? Is this what the voice meant by a unified universe? Was any of this even real? Will the new universe even be real? My mind races with questions, but before I can ponder further, I notice a button at the bottom of the screen, labeled 'Begin.'

With a mixture of curiosity and caution, I reach out to touch the button. To my surprise, it feels like a solid wall, unyielding under my fingertips. As soon as I make contact, the scenery around me shifts once again.

In front of me, a blank mannequin appears, floating in mid-air. It's surrounded by hundreds of sliders and customization options, each representing different aspects of appearance and abilities. The level of detail is astounding – from facial features to physical build, from clothing styles to more esoteric choices like aura color.

I realize that this mannequin is a representation of how I will appear in this game, in this new reality. The thought is both exhilarating and daunting. I can choose who I want to be in this world, a world where the boundaries of multiple universes have blurred.

As my hand hovers over the customization options, I feel a sense of control and possibility. This is more than just a game; it's a new beginning, a new reality where I can explore the limits of what's possible. With a deep breath, I start to adjust the sliders, shaping my new identity in this mysterious and vast universe known as DreamPoint.

As I begin to adjust the sliders, I'm determined to recreate my old physical form with precision. Each movement of my hand, every careful selection, brings me closer to a familiar yet subtly altered version of myself. I add a few inches to my height, imagining how this new stature might feel. It's a minor change, but one that symbolizes a new beginning in this strange, merged reality.

After meticulously going through each option, ensuring that every detail aligns with my vision, I take a moment to review my avatar. Standing before me is a taller, slightly enhanced version of James Black. Satisfied with the transformation, I move my hand towards the 'Finish' button, eager to embark on this unprecedented journey.

However, as soon as my finger makes contact with the button, the serene environment abruptly shifts. The white light bathing the space flickers violently and then switches to a menacing red hue. Alarm bells ring in my head, but there's no time to react.

The blue boxes surrounding me distort grotesquely, their edges warping as they glow a blood-red color. The words 'ERROR' flash across them in bold, ominous letters. Panic rises in my chest as I try to make sense of what's happening. Is this part of the game? Or something much more sinister?

My eyes are fixed on the terrifying spectacle, but it's the ground beneath me that demands immediate attention. It starts to swirl and distort, pixelating like a corrupted digital image. The solid surface that I was standing on moments ago now vanishes in a series of glitches, revealing a void below.

I'm falling.

The sensation is surreal, like being sucked into a vortex. My stomach lurches as I plummet through the digital abyss, the red lights and distorted images blurring around me. I stretch out my arms, desperately trying to grab onto something, anything, but there's nothing to hold.

As I fall, a thousand thoughts race through my mind. Is this a malfunction of the game? Or is it a consequence of the merging universes, a glitch in the fabric of this new reality? Fear grips me, not just of the fall, but of the unknown destination it leads to.

A wind starts roaring in my ears, drowning out every other sound. I try to call out, but my voice is lost in the chaos of the descent. My heart pounds against my chest, each beat echoing the terror of the situation.

Then, just as suddenly as it all began, everything goes silent. The red lights, the distortion, the sensation of falling – all of it ceases. A heavy darkness envelops me, and in that moment of overwhelming stillness, consciousness slips away from my grasp.

I lose myself to the void, my mind succumbing to the blackness.

______

I sit up abruptly, my senses on high alert. Disoriented, I take a moment to survey my surroundings. The setting is far from what I expected. I'm in a narrow alley, its confines littered with scattered debris and lined with cardboard boxes – not unlike the one I find myself in. The air is heavy with the scent of neglect, and the murmurs of people fill the space. Homeless individuals, each ensconced in their makeshift shelters, pay me no heed.

As I struggle to comprehend this stark contrast to the digital void I previously occupied, a bright blue box suddenly materializes in front of me. I blink in surprise. Unlike the red, distorted boxes from before, this one is clear and stable. Glancing around, I notice that no one else seems to react to its appearance; it's visible only to me.

The box reads, "Welcome to DreamPoint Player! The open beta will begin in one year." Then, in smaller letters beneath, "Begin Tutorial: Error," before the screen vanishes as abruptly as it appeared.

Panic threatens to overtake me, but I force myself to take deep breaths, seeking calm amidst the chaos. This proves to be a mistake. The stench of the alley, a mix of garbage and unwashed bodies, assaults my nostrils, making me gag. I quickly covered my nose, regretting the deep breaths I had taken.

I need to think logically. This is a game, I remind myself. Or at least, it's supposed to be. But nothing about this feels like any game I've ever played. The realism is uncanny, unnerving.

In an attempt to gather more information, I glance down at a puddle on the ground. The light from the bulbs hanging haphazardly from the buildings nearby casts a dim glow over the water's surface. What I see in the reflection stops me in my tracks. The face staring back at me is not my own. It's a stranger's face. The glitched character creation must have placed me in another person's body.

A mix of curiosity and anxiety surges within me. If this is indeed a game, then there should be a stat page – a fundamental feature in most games. I need to confirm this bizarre reality. I concentrate, trying to recall any possible commands or gestures that might bring up a menu or stat screen. Games have their interfaces, and DreamPoint should be no different.

For the moment, I decide to remain in my cardboard shelter. It provides a semblance of privacy and safety, however minimal. From this vantage point, I can observe, plan, and adapt to whatever this game – or reality – throws at me. My mind races with questions. Who am I in this world? What rules govern this place? And most importantly, how do I navigate this new existence?

As I sit there, hidden in the shadows of the alley, I'm determined to unravel the mysteries of DreamPoint. But first, I need to understand the rules of this game, and that starts with accessing my stat page. With a deep breath, I brace myself for the journey ahead, knowing that every action, every decision from here on out, could change the course of my existence in this bizarre, new world.

Thinking of a 'Stat Page' as I would in any other game, I'm surprised when a large blue window materializes in front of me. The window displays an array of information, neatly organized yet startling in its implications.

Name: James Black

Race: Human/Wizard

Human- You are a member of humanity, no starting stat bonus, as a member of humanity you have no skill limit.

Wizard- You are born with the ability to use magic, No stat bonus, Base MP is automatically 300 and with each level up you will gain an additional 50 maximum MP, skill limit removed by Race-Human.

Age: 11

Titles: Lost Scion, Street Urchin

Class: none

Sub Class: none, none

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100

HP: 10

MP: 300

Might: 1- Represents the character's physical strength, directly increasing the damage output in melee combat.

Constitution: 1- Determines the character's overall health, with Hit Points (HP) calculated as ten times the Constitution value.

Resilience: 1- Defines the character's ability to withstand physical and magical damage, affecting damage resistance.

Agility: 1- Measures the character's speed and dexterity, influencing evasion rates and turn order in combat.

Intellect: 1- Gauges the character's cognitive capacity, enhancing the effectiveness of magical abilities and skills.

Wisdom: 1- Reflects the character's intuition and experience, magical defense, and MP being ten times wisdom value. Race-Wizard alters MP calculation.

Perception: 1- Indicates the character's awareness and observational skills, affecting accuracy and the ability to detect hidden objects or enemies.

Fame: -30

NPC Level: 1

Quest Points: 0

Skills/ Titles

Lost Scion - You are the lost heir to the House of Black, and it is likely no one will believe you.

Street Urchin - Scrappy street kid, streetwise and sharp-tongued, a survivor at heart. Fame -30

Multiverse Gacha - "Strategically harness the chaos of infinite realms to obtain rare, universe-specific artifacts and abilities once per level."

I analyze each aspect carefully, my mind racing to make sense of this new reality. My name, at least, remains the same as in my old life. It's a small comfort amidst the sea of unfamiliar details.

The classification of my current body as both Human and Wizard intrigues me, particularly how they are listed as separate races. The maximum stats is a downside, but not having a limit to the number of skills I can have is nice. The bonus the race of wizards get is nice too, I can use magic from the get go.

Given that I'm a wizard, it's likely I'll be starting a magical education soon, seeing as I'm also eleven years old. However, without a specific birth date, I'll have to be vigilant for when my stat page updates to twelve years old.

My titles, 'Street Urchin' and 'Lost Scion,' tell this body's backstory. Apparently, I was homeless before I gained control, and a lost scion of the house of black. That points to a few possibilities, but nothing concrete. This revelation leaves me with more questions than answers. What does being the lost heir to the House of Black entail in this merged universe? How will this identity shape my journey in DreamPoint? The possibilities are both thrilling and daunting.

I then look at the fame option and with a little bit of focus, I manage to open some sort of help function. Fame is a stat to measure the amount by which my renown is measured. The higher the Fame I have the better quests and quest rewards I can give out. Wait. What does it mean I can give out quests?

Just below the Fame stats is another stat called Quest Points. This seems to be a currency I can save up and is the decimal amount of quests I can give out based on my Fame.

Before jumping to any conclusions I try for a help function and manage to filter through some pages for the quests. I quickly read that quests are given by NPCs to players and rewards are based on whether the quest is a contribution quest or completion quest, etc…

This confirms it then, I am an NPC and a player. I am unsure if NPCs can level, but it appears I can level as a player.

As I skimmed the rest of the help section of the interface I felt all the color drain from my face. Death, to die in the game is to die permanently, even for players. There is no respawn function. If you want to avoid death you need health items and should your character die, it could be revived by key NPCs or revived with highest tier items in the game.

I want to shout in frustration, what kind of shitty devs made a game like this. The whole point of a video game is to escape reality, not truly emulate it. Will there even be any players with a function like that?

In most games, skill books and stat-increasing tomes offer a path to power, a way to quickly adapt and excel. But in a world woven from the threads of Harry Potter, Marvel, DC, and Highschool DxD universes, the rules are anything but straightforward.

Suddenly a blue box pops up with the words Unique Rank Quest Started: Lost Scion. Quest Objectives: Regain access to your House's funds and your birthright, you have been left to your own devices since birth, it is time to take action. Quest Rewards: 200 EXP, Heir Ring, access to Black Vaults. Failure: Life of mediocrity on the streets.

So it is that house black then, the house with scattered or dead family. Sirius black is likely supposed to be the leader of the house and he is more than likely locked up in Azkaban right now, though without prior knowledge I have no way of knowing. At the very least this quest is worth the EXP as I need to level up and increase my stats, after all the new world I am in is full of danger.

The challenges are monumental. In the Harry Potter universe, there's the dark wizard Voldemort, a name that still sends shivers down the spine of any who know his story. The Marvel universe brings its own share of nightmares with villains like Thanos, Ultron, and the cataclysmic potential of the Infinity Stones. DC has its gallery of rogues, including the Joker and powerful Kryptonians like General Zod. And Highschool DxD's landscape is riddled with villains who exploit humanity through slavery, brainwashing, and other heinous acts, all amidst a backdrop of potential war.

My knowledge of these universes, as they were before merging, is extensive but now potentially obsolete. These worlds have interacted and evolved in unknown ways for an unknown length of time. The Marvel Universe alone had different renditions in the comics versus the movie adaptations. The same goes for the Harry Potter books and their movie adaptations. Predicting events or relying on my previous knowledge is, at best, educated guesswork.

The devils of Highschool DxD are particularly troubling. They reincarnate humans, both willing and unwilling, into their peerages to compete for honor and prestige in their Rating Games. Given the versatility of Harry Potter witches and wizards, I'm already a target, a potential pawn in their games.

Then there's the question of how various governments and powers react to each other's presence. Are they enemies? Do wizards and devils know of each other's existence? The layers of complexity are dizzying. I don't even know what year it is, making it impossible to guess at any potential timelines or impending events.

I feel a surge of frustration building inside me. The urge to scream is almost overwhelming. Here I am, trapped in a world that's both familiar and utterly alien, with more questions than answers. The challenges ahead are daunting, not just in terms of physical survival, but in understanding the intricate web of politics, power, and relationships that now define this merged universe.

I force myself to take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts. I need to approach this logically, systematically. There has to be a way to navigate this world, to use my knowledge and adapt to the new rules. But first, I need to understand my immediate environment, to gather information and assess my situation.

My gaze drifts to the people around me, the other inhabitants of this alley. Each one of them could be a source of information, a clue to understanding the current state of this world. But approaching them carries its own risks.

Gathering my nerve, I decide to venture out of my cardboard sanctuary to seek answers. Before leaving, I rummage through my makeshift home, searching for anything that might serve as collateral in this new world. Among the sparse belongings, I find a pocket knife. Its weight feels reassuring in my hand, and I decide to keep it for myself. There are also a few half-eaten food items, but, disappointingly, no money. Currency could have provided a clue to the region I'm in.

Approaching a homeless man nearby, I prepare my questions. I notice his weary eyes and the way he hunches against the chill of the alley. "Excuse me," I start, "Can you tell me where I am, and what year it is?"

The man grunts, eyeing me suspiciously. His reply comes in a thick British accent, tinged with annoyance. "Bloody yank tourists," he mumbles.

'Yank.' That word resonates with me. In my past life, I was American, speaking English in the States. And now, his accent confirms it – I must be in Britain.

I quickly offer, "I'm willing to pay for information." It's a gamble, but I need to know more.

The man's eyes gleam with a mix of greed and curiosity. His smile reveals missing teeth as he says, "Hand her over then, and I'll answer your questions."

Reluctantly, I hand over the food. His demeanor changes as he accepts the meager offering. "It's July 26th, 1991. You're in London, UK," he informs me, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Thanking the man, I quickly depart from the alley, my mind racing with this new information. July 26th, 1991, in London – this date and location reveal much about the world I'm now a part of.

The most immediate realization is that Hogwarts will be starting this September. If this body is a resident of Britain, as the information suggests, then I should be attending Hogwarts. The thought of entering the world of Harry Potter is both exhilarating and daunting.

More importantly, if Harry Potter is the same age as in canon, then he, too, will be starting Hogwarts this year. This gives me a timeline – seven years to become strong enough to face Voldemort. Seven years to defend myself and possibly others from the threats of this merged universe.

The stakes are higher than I ever imagined. In a world where the lines between fantasy and reality blur, where characters and stories from different universes intertwine, the challenges are unprecedented. But so are the opportunities.

As I navigate through the bustling streets of London, my mind is firmly set on locating the Leaky Cauldron. Despite not knowing its exact whereabouts, I'm confident that I can find it by spotting someone who clearly belongs to the magical world of Harry Potter. In the books and films, witches and wizards often roamed about in distinctly old-fashioned robes, a stark contrast to the modern attire of Muggles. While many of them employed Muggle-repelling charms, their unique fashion sense should still make them identifiable.

The crowded streets of London present a challenge, but also an opportunity. Amidst the throngs of people going about their daily lives, I keep my eyes peeled for anyone dressed unusually, anyone who might give off a hint of magic. It's a game of patience and observation, one that requires me to blend in while remaining acutely aware of my surroundings.

My plan after finding the Leaky Cauldron is straightforward. I need to get to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. There, I can hopefully sort out some form of identity verification. Being the lost heir to the House of Black, as my stat page indicated, should mean that I have access to some funds. Without money, navigating this world would be significantly more challenging.

But Gringotts isn't just about accessing gold. It's also a crucial step in understanding this new world's economy and politics. How has the integration of different universes affected the wizarding economy? Are there new forms of currency or trade? These are vital questions that I need answers to.

More importantly, Gringotts might provide insights into my new identity. Who am I in this world? What does being a lost heir entail? These answers are essential to navigate the complex social and political landscape of this merged universe.

After securing my financial situation, my next goal is to gain as much experience as possible. The 'Multiverse Gacha' skill listed on my stat page intrigues me. "Strategically harness the chaos of infinite realms to obtain rare, universe-specific artifacts and abilities once per level" – the description promises a wealth of possibilities. It suggests a way to acquire unique powers and tools that could be crucial in facing the myriad challenges this world presents. But to access it, I need to level up.

Leveling up in this world isn't just about battling monsters or completing quests. It's about learning, adapting, and understanding the complexities of a universe where Harry Potter, Marvel, DC, and Highschool DxD coexist. Every interaction, every decision, every discovery could contribute to my growth.

I weave through the crowds, scanning for anyone who looks out of place. Every so often, I catch a glimpse of something unusual – a flash of a cloak or a peculiar hat – but each time, it turns out to be a false alarm. The challenge is finding someone genuinely magical amongst the throngs of tourists and Londoners.

Finding the Leaky Cauldron is just the first step. Once there, my plan is to make my way to Gringotts. As a potential heir to the Black fortune, I should have some resources available to me. More importantly, Gringotts will be a crucial point of information. The goblins are likely to know about the changes in the wizarding world since the merging of the universes. Understanding the new dynamics at play, economically and politically, will be vital.

But there's more at stake than just securing funds and information. My 'Multiverse Gacha' skill, as intriguing as it is, remains locked until I can level up. The process of gaining experience in this world is still a mystery to me, but I'm determined to uncover it. I need to learn, adapt, and grow stronger.

My thoughts are interrupted as I turn a corner and find myself facing a quaint, slightly shabby-looking pub that seems out of place amidst the modern storefronts. A small sign above the door reads 'The Leaky Cauldron.' A sense of relief washes over me. I've found it.

Stepping inside, I brace myself for the transition from the Muggle world to the magical. This is it, the gateway to the wizarding world, and my first real step into unraveling the mysteries of this new, merged universe.

The room is smoky and I fight the urge to cough. There is dirt and grime all over the place with only candle light to illuminate the space. There are wizards and witches all over. Some drinking or eating, others chatting in hushed tones.

As I take in the scene, the barkeeper catches my eye. He's a gruff-looking man with a no-nonsense demeanor. "Where are your parents, lad?" he asks, eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

I quickly concoct a story. "I was supposed to meet them in Diagon Alley," I say, hoping my nervousness doesn't show.

The barkeeper, Tom if I remember correctly from the books, nods as if this is a common occurrence. "Do you need someone to open the wall for you?" he asks, wiping a glass with a rather dirty-looking cloth.

"Yes, please," I reply. "I don't have a wand of my own yet, or been to Hogwarts." I'm hoping this admission will make it clear that I'm not just an accidental Muggle wandering in. In a sense, I am no different from one, given my current lack of magical knowledge and experience.

Tom laughs, a sound that seems to resonate with a lifetime of stories. He seems to buy my words without suspicion, for which I am silently grateful. He calls over one of his barmaids, a young witch with a friendly face, and instructs her to take me through.

Following her to the brick wall behind the cauldron, I watch closely as she taps her wand against the bricks in a specific sequence. I commit the pattern to memory, knowing it might be crucial for future visits.

As the last tap echoes, the bricks start shifting, rearranging themselves to reveal an opening. My heart races with excitement as Diagon Alley unfolds before me.

Stepping into the alley, I'm immediately engulfed in its vibrant atmosphere. The alley is bustling with activity in the early afternoon sun. Witches and wizards of all ages stroll past the shops, some stopping to chat, others hurrying on their way. The air is filled with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional hoot from an owl.

The shops, just as I remember them from the movies, are a patchwork of ancient, leaning buildings. Each one has a distinct character, from the crooked sign of Ollivanders Wand Shop to the inviting windows of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

As I walk further, the aromas of various potions and herbs fill the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked goods from the nearby bakery. Children run past me, their eyes wide with excitement, pointing at the magical items displayed in shop windows.

The Apothecary, with its jars of strange and exotic ingredients, catches my eye. Nearby, the Magical Menagerie is a cacophony of animal sounds, and I can't help but glance inside to see the various magical creatures.

The alley is a kaleidoscope of magical life, a place where the wonders of the wizarding world come to life. I feel a sense of awe as I take in the sights and sounds around me. This is the heart of the magical community, a place where magic is not just a part of life, but the very essence of it.

Lost in the spectacle of Diagon Alley, I momentarily forget the challenges that lie ahead. For now, I'm content to soak in the magic of this place, a small haven in a world that is much larger and more complex than I ever imagined.

I hasten my steps towards a building that stands out even in the magical chaos of Diagon Alley – Gringotts Bank. Its imposing façade, towering over the other establishments, is unmistakable. Just like in the Harry Potter movies, the white marble building looms, its high, polished columns giving it an air of grandeur and authority.

Entering the bank, I'm immediately struck by the interior's stark contrast to the vibrant alley outside. The vast, echoing hall is lined with high, marble pillars, each engraved with intricate goblin runes. The floor, also marble, gleams under the light of crystal chandeliers that hang from the distant ceiling. The air is cool and carries a certain weight, as if reminding all who enter of the solemnity and power contained within these walls.

Goblins, sharp-eyed and impeccably dressed, man the various counters, attending to witches and wizards who come with their financial needs. I approach one of the tellers, a particularly stern-looking goblin who is meticulously writing in a large ledger.

"Excuse me," I begin hesitantly, "Does Gringotts offer any services for identity verification?"

The goblin looks up, his gaze piercing and full of disdain. He sneers, "Yes, for a price."

Swallowing my unease, I reply, "I won't be able to access any funds until I verify my identity."

"And who might you be?" the goblin asks, his tone dripping with skepticism.

"I am James Black, heir to the House of Black."

For a moment, the goblin's expression shifts to one of surprise before settling into a sardonic smile. "Very well," he says in a saccharine voice, "We shall conduct the test. But be warned, should it reveal that you are lying, you will find yourself in considerable debt to Gringotts."

Before I can respond, the goblin raises his hand, and another goblin emerges from a door off to the side. This new goblin beckons me to follow him.

"Thank you," I say to the teller, my voice barely above a whisper. With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I follow the second goblin down a corridor that leads away from the main hall.

The corridor is dimly lit, the walls adorned with more goblin runes and the occasional portrait of what I assume to be prominent goblins from history. The air grows cooler as we walk, and the sense of entering into the heart of ancient, guarded secrets becomes almost palpable.

I wonder what this test of identity will entail and whether the truth of my situation will be accepted in this world. The fate of James Black, and perhaps much more, hinges on what happens next.

The goblin leads me through a maze of corridors to a small, austere office. The furniture is sparse, consisting mainly of a heavy, dark wood desk and two chairs. I take a seat across from the goblin, who looks at me with an inscrutable expression.

"Are you ready to verify your identity?" the goblin asks in a businesslike tone.

I nod, "Yes." He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a piece of parchment and a needle. The parchment looks ancient, its edges frayed and yellowed with age.

I take the needle hesitantly. The goblin instructs, "Place a drop of your blood on the parchment. It will reveal your lineage."

With a slight wince, I prick my finger and watch a single drop of blood fall onto the parchment. To my amazement, the cut on my finger heals instantly, leaving no trace of injury. I watch, fascinated, as words start to form on the parchment.

The lineage is clear and detailed. It states that I am the son of Sirius Black and Anya Wellington. The names and relations scroll back to Arcturus Black before the list ends, indicating that the test probably only goes back one to three generations.

The goblin, who had been watching the parchment with a skeptical air, seems genuinely surprised by the results. I let out a sigh of relief. I knew I had a quest related to this, but the memory of the debt incurred by a character in the Harry Potter books to the goblins flashes through my mind.

"You will require a magical guardian until you are of age to assume lordship of House Black," the goblin states matter-of-factly.

Without hesitation, I responded, "Can you contact Ted and Andromeda Tonks? They are relatives of mine." In truth, they are the only relatives I know of who are not in Azkaban.

The goblin looks surprised at my knowledge. "How do you know this?" he asks.

"My mother told me I would start Hogwarts soon and to come here. She said that my father was a wizard," I lie smoothly. I'm almost certain the original mother of this body must have passed away, or else I wouldn't have been living as a street urchin.

As we speak, a blue box suddenly appears in my field of vision. I notice the goblin doesn't see it, so I choose to ignore it for the moment. The goblin stands up, indicating that our meeting is over, and leads me to a waiting room. "The cost of the test will be automatically withdrawn from the Black vault," he informs me as he leaves.

Alone in the waiting room, my curiosity about the blue box grows. Now that I have a moment of privacy, I decide it's time to see what new information or instruction it contains. I focus on the box, preparing myself for whatever it might reveal.

As I focus on the blue box, it reveals that I have completed my quest, 'The Last Scion'. The rewards listed are 300 EXP, an Heir Ring, and access to the Black Vaults. The experience points are enough to level me up to level two - a hundred EXP for the first level and two hundred for the second.

A sense of achievement washes over me, but it's quickly replaced by contemplation. Each level up grants me three free stat points, and given my starting stats, I need to consider my options carefully:

Might: 1 

Constitution: 1 

Resilience: 1 

Agility: 1 

Intellect: 1 

Wisdom: 1 

Perception: 1 

Despite the temptation to allocate them immediately, I decide to save these points for now. It's crucial to understand more about how these stats will affect my abilities in this world before making a decision.

As I accept the level-up rewards, more notifications appear. One particularly catches my attention – it's about choosing a starting class. I focus on this notification, absorbing the full text description.

According to the message, at level one, I am eligible to receive a starting class. Then, once I reach level ten, I can begin using class scrolls to obtain higher rarity classes. The system allows for one main class and two sub-classes. Any of these can be replaced at any time, but I would lose any unique skills associated with a class I discard. While sub-classes can be any class, they come with a reduced number of unique skills. To fully benefit, a class must be designated as the main class. Classes beyond the starting one can only be obtained through skill scrolls.

My available starting classes are determined by my efforts in the Class Experimentation Zone. Intriguingly, the notification mentions that I will be given a teleportation scroll to this zone.

Just as I'm processing all this information, I hear footsteps in the hallway outside. Hastily, I cause the screens to disappear, my heart racing. The last thing I need is for someone to walk in and see these floating blue boxes – especially not the people who might be my new family.

The thought of facing Ted and Andromeda Tonks, my supposed relatives, fills me with a mix of excitement and nervousness. They represent a connection to a world I've only ever read about or seen in movies. They could be my key to understanding this new reality, to finding my place in the magical world.

As I wait in anticipation, my mind whirls with thoughts about the Class Experimentation Zone and what my starting class might be. This game, this reality, is proving to be more complex and intriguing than I could have ever imagined. I'm on the brink of discovering more about my powers and potential – and that journey begins with the Tonks family.