1 Two Worlds

[First Trial: Survive the free fall]

"Hahahaha!"

He closed his eyes and felt the wind playing with his hair, the coldness of such altitude paired well with the warm and cozy red scarf warped around his neck. The symphony of screams coming from other falling challengers added a touch of excitement to this fall.

'What fun!'

"Wooohooooo!" the boy spread his arms and legs making an X, fully enjoying the free fall.

This was what he had been missing. The thrill, the danger, the unknown.

He took in a deep breath of the fresh cold air.

'Ahhh~ is this what it feels like if I tried to jump all those days back?'

One day earlier...

***

[Trash!]

[Trash!]

[Trash!]

"..."

[Tra-]

"Trash! Yeah, I know. I know trash when I see one. And you are the trashiest of them all, System!"

[...]

"Finally some peace and quiet."

The boy looked up at the sky. It was clear blue without a speck of clouds. The sun was shining brightly but the weather was not warm in the slightest. In fact, as he exhaled a deep breath, white vapor came out of his scrunched nostrils, melting the freckles of ices shaved from the sky itself.

"Ughh!"

As he looked left and right, all he could see were mountains of scrap. Rusty murky poles of various lengths and sharpness poke here and there, decorating the sleeping mountains its porcupine's needles. Like the one, he was on right now.

Being a scavenger was not an easy job.

'Tsk!'

He clicked his tongue.

"Let's get back to work!"

A work he did not choose for himself nor anyone forced onto him.

The only work he could do that had nothing to do with that wretched undertaking.

There was nothing to choose. It was only this, or silently dying in a tailor-made coffin.

The boy reached towards his pile of trash. Everything was trash. Even so, with some luck - that he did not have - he may find some unexpected treasure that a kind-hearted local would want to buy from a struggling street boy.

As he fumbled through the scraps, there was silence. No longer the system harassed him with its non-stop notification. Though he would not admit it, deep down, without the system's constant reminder of his findings, he felt a little bit lonely.

Still, he loathed the system. He hated his world. And that world. He hated everything, even himself. He hated himself for hating the system. If he didn't, would anyone want to dig through this mountain of junk with his bare hands in the middle of the harsh winter for even a scrap of scrap?

"Of course not!"

But he could not forgive the system for what it had done to him.

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eyes. He grabbed its shiny handle and yanked it from the piles.

'Tuk!'

He looked at the peculiar item in his hand. This one seemed to be fully intact. Worn out as it may be with patches of dark brown dirt on its golden handle and scratch marks on its body, the allure of what was once an extravagant item was still there.

He flipped it over and saw a cracked mirror. Staring back at him was a fragile boy. Skins and bones, unkempt dirty orange hair, dry cracked lips, a red little nose and the peculiar dimmed light of his lilac eyes.

[You found a trash!]

"Hmph! I know that already!"

He gave his reflection a wry smile.

'I really look like trash didn't I?"

He caressed the neck of the hand mirror with his thumb. There was an engraving there.

It read in elegant cursive runes: Remember.

'Huh!' the boy scoffed.

'Haha.'

Then it became a suppressed chuckle. And finally…

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

The boy laughed so hard he lost his balance and tumbled down the scrap mountain, scratching his already dry brittle skin. The tattered rags covering his body did little to protect him. Thin lines of blood drew from his wounds but the boy couldn't care less.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Still laughing the boy grabbed the tuft of his hair hard and looked at the mirror again with crazed eyes.

"..."

His laugh died down instantly.

He glared at his reflection. No, he glared at the engraving, hard.

"Remember…" he mumbled.

"Do you want me to remember them that badly!" the boy suddenly shouted.

"Fine then! I'll do it your way. You win fate, you win! You crook! After all that I have been through! After all the digging, scratching and pulling of thrashes, scraps and junks from this hell hole, this is how you dealt my hand?!"

He clenched his hands and gritted his teeth.

"After that oath I took to never stain my hands with that thing again, you slapped me with this word… REMEMBER!"

The boy looked at his reflection. Brows furrowed and wells of tears brimmed around his lilac eyes. A certain spark lit inside them, shining through the tears like a pair or torch.

"Fine then. In the end, even I cannot outrun my fate. So be it."

The boy swiped his idle right hand.

Inscriptions of unknown language floated in front of him displaying everything one would ever want to know about somebody else.

He swiped his hand again and the display changed to that of a lengful notice and a question prompt at the end:

[Would you like to enter the trial?]

[Yes/No]

His finger hovered over the inscription that meant yes. But just as he was about to push it…

'Clink!'

The mirror fell down. His left hand pounced on his right like it had a mind of its own. The right hand was pinned on the ground. His eyes widened and the clear pearls dripped down as he realized what had happened.

"I… can't…" he sniffled.

He hated himself. The cowardly him that could not even take a step forward since that incident. The him, that use hate as a pretense and tried to avoid the system. The him, that could not move on, forever stasis in his current state.

No, not stasis.

Deteriorated. The old him would not even be able to recognize the current him.

Where did the laughter and smiles go?

Where had the clarity he was proud of gone to?

Where?

The boy sniffled for another minute or two.

When he was calm enough, he wiped his eyes with the torn and tattered end of his sleeve.

"Hahaha!"

He smiled.

"You almost got me there, fate. You almost… got me…"

He tried to smile.

The boy took a deep breath.

"I wonder how much this golden hand mirror would fetch me. If it's real gold, maybe even some silvers? Wowwie, I couldn't wait to find out!"

The boy walked out of the junkyard. Heading towards a village not that far off from here. In his mind, that incident just now was already foggy like a certain part of him forcefully tried to ignore it.

"Wonder what I would get for dinner?"

…

In the end he did not sell the mirror.

Why?

He did not know. A certain part of him wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible but whenever he tried to sell it to his regular donors, he would get this sudden bout of tightness in his chest.

And it did not help that reading the engraving 'Remember' poured more oil to the fire, making his aching heart felt like it was being ripped apart.

He wasted his time here and there until those beeps gave him a new purpose.

'Beep! Beep!'

"Tsk! It's almost time already and I still haven't got myself anything to eat yet."

Just then a shadow darkened his face, shielding him from the orange lights of dusk. He looked up and saw a giant towered over him like an ancient monument. Her elegant crow's feet crinkled to a smile as was her pale lips.

Wearing a dark purple robe, this ancient woman was already so old her back hunched so bad her head was the same level as her hip. There was a beautiful twisting walking stick, the colour of ripe apple in her right hand which she leaned on for support.

The boy wondered how tall this lady was in her prime without the hunch.

"You are still here, Em? I thought it was already time for you to go?"

"Hmph! Mind your own business granny. I'm just finishing my trade is all."

The boy moved to the lady's left side and she, without a second thought, rested her hand on his shoulder. Both of them walked side by side.

"Where are you going though?" asked the boy.

"It is none of your business but I could tell you if you tell me why you are still here running around like a headless chicken."

"Ughh!"

They walked a few meters before the boy opened his mouth…

"Icouldn'tsell…"

"What? I didn't hear you. My ears are going bad, you see."

"I said, I could not sell! There! I hope you are happy."

"Hahaha, the lady chuckled. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about. That's how business is. I'm heading for the burrows by the way. Could you take me there?"

"Tsk! Guess I have some time to spare…"

And so the boy escorted the lady till the edge of the village where a dried humongous tree took root. A door was engraved from the trunk that opened up to a cozy resident belonging to none other than the old lady herself.

"Thanks for always, Em."

"Meh, spare me the carrots."

The lady chuckled.

"Sell it to me."

"Hmm?" the boy raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever scrap that you couldn't sell, I'll buy it."

The boy looked reluctant for a minute and hesitantly brought out the hand mirror.

"My, it's a beauty. With a little bit of polishing it will be as good as new. Why wouldn't your regulars buy them, then?"

"Actually, I could not bring myself to sell it."

The lady had a shocked look on her face. Then, a kind smile bloomed from her thin lips.

"Then I'll just rent it for now," she said as she brought out a silver coin and handed it to the boy.

"But…"

"Of course I would keep it safe. The next time you come here, I'll give it back to you."

"Bu-"

"No but, but. And you are short on time, right?"

'Beep, beep, beep~'

Three beeps.

True, he did not have much time. His body already started glowing a soft white light.

"Then, I'll let you rent it for now," the boy handed the mirror to the lady.

"Yes, until then, Emmet, my boy."

"See you later, granny."

The old lady gave Emmet a knowing smile.

"See you next year…"

"Huh…"

And the boy vanished in a flash of light.

***

Emmet opened his eyes as darkness greeted him. He was in a tight cramped space. His hand groped around in search of a groove. It didn't take even a second for him to find it and pull the handle.

'Fwish~'

The door opened sidewards. Emmet blinked his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden rays of light.

He was lying in a metal pod. A myriad of ethereal lights shone from its surface. Both of the sides were controlled tinted glasses acting both as windows and doors whenever needed. It was connected to nothing but connected to everything at the same time.

He sighed as he looked towards the sky through the window.

Dark, bleak, cloudy. The crimson rays of the dusking sun added splashes of red and blood to the sky. He had just returned from the heaven-like fantasy.

Now back to the hellish reality.

He whispered…

"I'm home."