2. TALENT
William felt a jolt of electricity run throughout his body, and he woke up startled. He tried to calm down but to no avail. Because this was not his freaking room.
As William's eyes darted around the opulent room, his heart raced with confusion and disbelief. This couldn't be real, could it? He pinched himself, half-expecting to wake up in his own dingy apartment.
But the sensation was all too real. This wasn't a dream or a hallucination. He was wide awake, standing in a room that seemed like it belonged in a fairy tale rather than reality.
The sight of jewels and gold strewn about in abundance left him speechless. It was a level of luxury he had only ever seen in movies or read about in fantasy novels.
As he took in the grandeur of his surroundings, William's mind raced with questions. How did he get here? What was happening? And most importantly, where was he?
With trembling hands, he reached out to touch the soft fabric of the bed, half-expecting it to vanish into thin air. But it remained solid and real beneath his fingertips, grounding him in this surreal moment.
William looked at his table, and slowly, even though his body hadn't adjusted, his brain revved to full speed.
*KNOCK**KNOCK*
William almost lunged to his closest table, grabbed the tin that had a symbol of twin dragons entwined with each other, opened the drawer threw it into it, and closed it.
"Your Highness, it is imperative that you open the door and deal with the realm."
'Highness? Realm? What is even happening?' William didn't know, but his brain suggested to not show any of the feelings that he was feeling right now.
Even without William... or 'His Highnesses' permission, an old man broke into the room. The old man looked at William... or rather, this body with jittering panic.
Only after seeing that he was okay did he heave a sigh of relief.
"Your Highness, it is imperative that you urgently handle the state. The secessionists are getting more and more out of hand. The Republic of Krosarr is eyeing our capital wealth, and more and more nobles are getting out of line,"
"Even though it hasn't been enough time for you to mourn. Your duty calls. This planet needs its sovereign back."
Even though the speech was cheesy, William had to have it to the old man that he had done a good job to fire up William by literally putting fire on his back.
William's mind raced with questions, confusion, and disbelief. How did he end up in this extravagant room? Who was he supposed to be, this "Highness"? And why was there an old man insisting he handle matters of state?
Despite his inner turmoil, William knew he had to maintain composure. If he was truly in a position of power, he couldn't afford to show weakness, especially not to those around him.
The old man seemed relieved when he saw William get back on his feet.
"Give me time to get ready," William said as he saw the old man nod and exit his room.
Alone in the opulent chamber, William sank onto the bed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like the weight of the world. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events that had led him here.
Suddenly, it was as though a truck had hit William's head. He clutched his head and groaned in pain. His face contorted into many expressions, first into pity, and then into a grimace, and then into pure anger.
The sudden rush of memories flooded William's mind, each one crashing against his consciousness like a tidal wave. The pain in his head intensified with each new recollection, threatening to overwhelm him.
As cold sweat trickled down William's neck, he was overwhelmed by a surge of memories that didn't belong to him, memories that hinted at a world far more complex and unfathomable than he had ever imagined.
Among them, a particular memory glimmered like a distant star in the darkness: the mention of a 'talent.' It was an inherent ability tied to the systematic development of a region, a power that could be honed and upgraded as one assumed control over their domain.
But before that, he had realized that he had truly been screwed over.
As William grappled with the weight of his newfound identity, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a shroud. The mention of the Treaty of the Emperors echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of the complex political landscape he now found himself embroiled in.
Planet Dawn, with its grandeur and opulence, was the seat of power for the Dawn Empire. But despite its lofty title, the empire's dominion extended only as far as its own celestial body. In the eyes of the wider galaxy, ruling over a single planet was but a modest achievement, a fact underscored by the Treaty of the Emperors.
The treaty, a relic of ages past, dictated the terms by which true authority was measured among the stars. To be recognized as a legitimate power, one had to govern not just a single world, but an entire system, if not more. It was a testament to the vastness of the cosmos and the complexities of interstellar politics.
The news of his parents' tragic demise sent shockwaves rippling through William's already tumultuous world. The bombing, a brazen act of violence orchestrated by the Dawn Secessionists, served as a grim reminder of the ever-present threat looming over the Dawn Empire.
His uncle, once a trusted member of the family, now stood as the face of rebellion and dissent, leading the charge against the very authority William was now expected to uphold. The tension between the Dawn Empire and the Dawn Secessionists reached a fever pitch, casting a dark shadow over the fragile stability of the Kawaliya System.
As William grappled with the weight of grief and betrayal for the original owner of the body, he knew that the road ahead would be fraught with peril.
The Dawn Secessionists, emboldened by their recent actions, posed a formidable threat to the empire's sovereignty, and William was thrust into the heart of the conflict, forced to navigate the treacherous waters of civil unrest and political intrigue.
But all hope was not lost.
"System?"
Nothing happened.
"Status?"
Still, nothing happened.
By the memories he had received, there was this 'Talent' that was mentioned in the memories that didn't come from inheriting the body. It was a knowledge that was almost grated into the soul of William.
And that talent had an interface that he could access, but the memory was a little muddled when it came to the key phrase. That was the reason why he was going with what had been taught from the novels that he had read.
"Talent?"
Still, nothing happened.
"What the hell do you want me to say?" William was frustrated but he was helpless. But all of a sudden, he felt something was stirring inside his stomach. The stirring became more and more prominent until William felt that something manifested out of his body.
[Name: William Von Dawn]
[Agespan: (20 Years - 70 Years)]
[Resources: 2000]
[Skill Points: 0]
[Personal Stats]
[Genetic Influence:- None]
[Manafluid Influence:- None]
[Martialite Influence:- None]
[Consiciouswork Influence:- None]
[Simulation:- Locked]
[Soverign Stats]
[Politics:- Nil]
[Military:- Nil]
[Economics:- Nil]
[Public Order:- Nil]
[Turn 1- Minor Event]
[Turn 30- Major Event]
William could feel that 'Talent' in his body actively responding to his wishes and actions. On one side, he didn't feel that comfortable when he knew that there was actually a living entity inside his body.
But on the other side, he was dumbfounded when he saw what he could actually do with his 'Talent'.
When the 'Talent' had become active in his body. The 'Talent' could proceed with simple conversations of yes or no, and there was also other important knowledge that was vital for William's knowledge.
Like, he was not alone with his 'Talent'. There were other people across the Galaxy that had 'Talent' similar to his. And that he could return to his home planet when 6 months passed. These 6 months would be the trial period where people similar to him would fully understand what their roles entailed.
Everything was in motion, and the cogs were in their place, and time would stop for no one.
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