Who am I?

In a room draped in silence, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of a clock.

As the hour hand, minute hand, and second hand converged at the twelve o'clock position, the silence was shattered by a shout of delight that resounded through the room.

"Finally!" 

Exclaimed the man, his voice brimming with excitement and relief. 

He leapt up from the rumpled blanket he had been sitting on and strode over to a sleek, futuristic capsule. 

The man carefully inspected it for any blemishes.

"Clean."

Then he took a sip of milk through a straw, savoring the taste and feeling a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

"Aaahh.."

With a deep exhale, he released the straw and pressed a button on the capsule. 

A mechanical whir filled the room, growing louder by the second.

Dedeth! Dedeth! Dedeth!

Finally, a futuristic glass panel slid open with a sleek, sloshing sound.

"Here it is, my favorite villain cultivation RPG game." 

The man murmured to himself, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness and excitement. 

"Please don't let me down."

With a surge of anticipation, the man stepped into the glass capsule.

As he settled into the luxurious gaming pod, the plush, cushioned seating conformed to the contours of his body, providing excellent support and promising comfort during long gaming sessions.

"Ahh… so comfortable." 

He murmured, sinking deeper into the plush seating. 

He briefly considered scratching his groin but thought better of it.

As the man closed his eyes, the seating molded to his body, easing his muscles and soothing his mind. 

"Uhhmmm…"

The pod boasted a state-of-the-art sound system that delivered crystal-clear audio with deep, immersive bass, making him feel like he was already in the game. 

"Alright! Alright!" 

He shouted with clear excitement in his voice.

The customizable lighting added to the overall immersion, allowing him to set the mood for his gaming experience.

As the man opened his eyes, his focus sharpened on the loading screen.

"I don't know what game the Wayne Virtual Corps has created this time, but so far, it's always impressive and they never fail to amaze me." 

He praised the company, his voice filled with admiration.

All the games that the Wayne Virtual Corps released were unique, addictive, and featured engaging plots. 

The new game promised to be an exciting and unparalleled gaming experience, taking players on a journey to a cultivation world as a villain.

"Ugh! I'm so eager to experience the hardships and emotions of the villain's journey firsthand." 

The man urged, his voice brimming with excitement.

Suddenly, he felt something brush against his lips and realized it was a stray milk box. 

Confused, the man muttered.

"What?" 

And quickly tossed it aside. 

He couldn't afford any distractions now, not when he was about to embark on an epic adventure.

As the loading bar progressed, his heart rate increased, and he felt a surge of anticipation. 

Kruk Kruk!

The man cracked his knuckles.

He was ready to step into the shoes of a villain and explore a world unlike any other.

But suddenly, his heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and the man gasped for breath, yet he ignored it.

In a split second, the milk box went flying, propelled by his convulsing muscles, hurtling towards an electrical hazard.

The milk box had landed on the hazard, but it was small enough to stop at the top, caught by the hazard's wide cover. 

Suddenly, he heard a sizzling sound.

Zzzt! ZzZt!

And then he looked over, the leftover milk began to drip slowly into the hazard. 

His eyes widened as panic set in as he realized the impending danger, but it was too late. 

In a split second, a jolt of electricity surged through his body, causing him to convulse uncontrollably.

"This can't be-" 

He gasped, his body writhing in agony as the acrid smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. 

The pain was unbearable, and he struggled to remain conscious as his vision began to blur, but then it soon darkened, indicating his end.

…

Deep within the heart of the camp, surrounded by the flickering flames of torches and the occasional slices of the wind, stood a bony tent unlike any other. 

As the night wore on, a sudden gasp echoed from within its confines, causing a ripple of unease to spread through the camp. 

"Haaaaa."

The Asura leader, known for his unflappable calm, had stirred from his slumber and now lay gasping for air.

Slowly, the leader's eyes fluttered open, taking in his unfamiliar yet familiar surroundings. 

The Asura leader took a deep breath, taking in the scents of his surroundings. 

The air inside the bony tent was thick with the pungent aroma of incense, its smoky tendrils reaching out to caress his senses. 

Underneath the herbal fragrance, he could detect the unmistakable scent of water, perhaps from a nearby stream or river. 

But mingled with these soothing smells was the unmistakable stench of sweat and blood, filling the air with a sickening tang that made his stomach churn. 

The combination of scents was overwhelming, and the leader struggled to keep his composure amidst the onslaught to his senses.

His heart raced as he tried to make sense of where he was.

"By the gods." 

He whispered.

"Where am I?"

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his head, causing him to clutch it in agony. 

"Urgghh!!" 

He cried out, his blood red veins bulging with the intensity of the pain. 

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he fought to endure the searing sensation that threatened to overwhelm him.

As the pain subsided, the leader found himself struggling to remember who he was. 

"What's happening to me?" 

He muttered, his voice trembling with fear. 

"Am I truly from planet Earth?" 

A surge of confusion washed over him as he saw the face of a person, not an Asura, in his mind's eye. 

He felt his emotions as if they were his own, and he could no longer distinguish between his memories and the person in his head.

The Asura leader's mind was in turmoil as he struggled to make sense of his memories. 

"No! No! No!" 

He cried out in desperation. 

"I am an Asura, a former prince of the Fiorel kingdom. I was sent to Darkom kingdom and entered the trial because I lacked the natural talent of my brother and the people of my kingdom." 

He clung to this knowledge like a lifeline, hoping it would anchor him to reality.

Despite the intensity of the memories flooding his mind, the leader felt a strange sense of detachment from them. 

They felt like they belonged to someone else, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that they were his own. 

It was as if he was connected to the planet Earth in a way he couldn't explain.

"I remember now." 

He muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

"I was in love with the Shura..." 

His voice trailed off as he realized that the memories of the Shura had disappeared from his mind. 

Panic set in as he frantically searched his thoughts, trying to remember who she was. 

"Who is she?"

"What's her name?"

"What's her face look like?"

He exclaimed, his heart racing with fear and confusion.

"No! no! no!" 

The Asura leader repeated to himself, his voice growing stronger with conviction. 

"I am not just an Asura, but a noble and a former prince of Fiorel kingdom. My lack of talent should not have led to my exile and participation in a trial. That Shura was chosen to be a concubine for a higher kingdom, and my own family betrayed me, accusing me of her disappearance. Even though I was a prince, I was forcefully thrown away to this kingdom of Darkom!" 

His fists clenched as he spoke, the memory of his unjust treatment fueling his determination to uncover the truth behind his lost memories.

The Asura leader's eyes filled with tears as he struggled to understand his own emotions. 

"No..." 

He whispered, his voice choked with sorrow. 

"Why can't I feel that burning hatred? It's like my memories of my life on this Asura realm are nothing but a move while the memories from Earth are more important to me now." 

The thought was like a knife twisting in his heart, as he tried to reconcile his loyalty to his Asura heritage with the inexplicable pull of his human memories. 

He felt lost and alone, adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Who am I really?" 

The leader asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. 

"Who am I?" 

The question echoed through the tent, reverberating off the walls and filling the air with a palpable sense of confusion and desperation. 

The leader was lost in a sea of memories and emotions, unable to find a foothold in the shifting sands of his own identity. 

He longed for answers, for a way to make sense of the jumbled mess inside his mind.