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Reborn As The Administrator In My Fantasy World

Her name was Aileen Woods. She used to be a bright child, but she was not fortunate enough to have a normal life. Ill and bedridden, she slowly lost affect and cut herself off from outer reality, as her only joy was to construct a complex fantasy world. Eventually, she met her demise. Nevertheless, her story did not end there. Who is to say that death is our last path? For her, it was just the beginning. She had been given a second chance now as Lynett Maedis Whiteheart. Reborn as a goddess in the very world she created, it was now up to her to write her own story. "This time, let's try to live normally."

Ozen_Ice · ファンタジー
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115 Chs

Earth

-Earth

The sleek subway was running over the railway so fast that the world sliding by the window became a hazy blur. Inside, people were invading each others' personal space, jostling back and forth each time the vehicle accelerated or slowed down. As the windows were whistling, sucking in the stale tunnel air, there were small movements among the passengers. Most periodically checked their phones, playing a game or reading texts. Others read books, did crosswords or simply watched the passing scenery through the shaking windows; anything to avoid an eye contact.

As a voice announced the next stop, a young man stood up from his seat. From afar, he looked like a proper adult. However, up close, there were still some childish facial features betraying his young age.

"Alex? What are you doing?" Another passenger asked.

"I'm getting off," the young man announced.

"Already? That's not your stop."

"I have to go somewhere today."

"Is that so? Well then, see you tomorrow!"

"Yeah."

The brakes squeaked and everyone became careful not to fall as the subway came to a stop. The doors opened with a gasp of air and passengers arrived and departed, jostling one another. In the rush hour, the subway station was a seething mass of impatient people. It was a challenge to navigate through the crowd with so many people, each heading to their respective destination.

Once out of the subway, Alex moved along in the thick crowd, orienting himself by intersections. The city was a maze of streets and alleys. Tall buildings were smudged by a sunless sky filled with smog and the streets were so busy that you could hear the incessant honking of the vehicles even from the darkest alley.

The young man trudged along the street at an unusually slow pace, somewhat nostalgic. The scraggy clouds were rolling in and he had no motivation or energy. It was a day of melancholy. He was not the kind of person who was always sentimental and thought about the past a lot, but today was a special day, so he couldn't help but revive childhood memories.

It was her first anniversary of death.

Recalling the days when she was still here, before he knew it, Alex had arrived. He was now facing an apartment complex. The building was large and made with old-fashioned bricks, making it look as if it was ancient. Among the modern buildings made of glass and steel, the complex looked out of place. On the ledge, pigeons were peering down at him. Used to being fed by some of the tenants, they were probably waiting for him to drop something to eat.

22 Haven Street. It was here.

The elevator had been out of service for a couple of days now. The residents were forced to climb the stairs and there has even been a few cases of elders falling, forcing the landlord to take action and invest in renovations. Fortunately for him, Alex was only going to the first floor. Yet, his brain was still struggling to tell each foot to take the next step. He wasn't tired or anything, but his body just refused to go further.

One year was not enough.

The young man was still not ready to return there and face the reality. But no matter how slowly he walked, he still arrived at his destination. Next to the door he was facing, a mailbox was fixed on the wall, with a single name written on it.

'Woods'

A little apprehensive, Alex rang at the door and waited. Only a few seconds later, he heard the approaching of footfalls. There was the noise of a key in a lock and the door opened. Standing before him was a middle-aged man. His eyes were bleary; Alex could tell he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. This man was his uncle, David Woods. He was in his late fifties, but life didn't go easy on him and he aged much faster than he should have. He looked much older than his real age.

"Hello Alex." He said, as he invited the young man to come in with a weak smile.

"Hello," Alex responded. "Sorry for being late, there was traffic congestion."

"It's okay, I'm grateful enough that you decided to come."

"Is Aunt Helen here?"

"Yes, she was waiting for you."

Closing the door behind him, the young man noticed the bare walls devoid of the usual framed pictures and the boxes full of clothes and other stuff replacing the furniture that once stood there. He had always thought that this place was small, but now that it was empty, he could see how large it really was.

His uncle and his aunt were moving.

It has been a year since their daughter passed away and after grieving for months, it was time to move on. However, they couldn't do it by staying here. This place and this city were full of painful memories. Down the street, there was the school where she once attended. A little furthermore, there was her favorite restaurant, where they used to go every week-end. Next to the shopping mall, there was the playground where she learned how to ride a bike. It was as if the whole world was conspiring to remind them of her. So they decided to leave and today, Alex came here to help them pack up.

Entering the kitchen, the young man saw his aunt Helen seated at the table, looking at a sketchbook with a melancholic, yet amused smile. Just like his uncle, she seems drained. As Alex approached, Helen finally noticed him.

"You're here? Sorry for bothering you, you must be busy." She said with a gentle voice.

"It's fine. I was the one who proposed to help after all." Alex answered.

The young man leaned across the table, trying to take a look at what his aunt was staring at so emotionally. "What are you looking at?" He asked.

Helen didn't respond. Instead, she just handed him over the sketchbook.

It was a child's drawing. In the middle, there was a stick figure wearing a cape with random hearts drawn around it. Alex couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. The figure had long braided hair, big eyes framed by long lashes, and was holding a rose in its hands. Right next to it, there was something that looked like an animal. Judging by the single horn drawn on its head, he was guessing that it was a unicorn.

"What is it?" The young man asked, squinting at the sketchbook.

"Her Prince Charming," Helen sneered.

This was Prince Charming? Alex winced, as he tried to take another look at the drawing. But no matter how he looked at it, it just seemed to be one of these androgynous guys that you could find in Otome games. And a unicorn? Obviously, his cousin had a terrible taste.

"And here I thought she hated cheesy romances…" Alex said with a sarcastic tone.

"It hasn't always been the case," Helen mumbled, as a sad smile drew on her face before she fell silent again.

The young man could tell that she was struggling to hold back the grief. It was just a stupid drawing. Yet, this one stupid drawing was enough to evoke old memories. And one memory aroused another, until there was nothing to remember. Her smile, her voice, the warmth in her eyes… Everything was slowly wilting away from their memories. Realizing the finality of death, Helen suddenly remembered that she was not ready to say goodbye, even though her daughter was already gone.

As tears started to silently flow down on his aunt's face, Alex knew that he had to say something. Still, he couldn't find the right words. In this situation, there was nothing that could make her feel better. One year was not enough.

"She is in a better place, now." A voice suddenly spoke up.

Turning in the direction of the voice, Alex noticed his uncle David. Walking into the room and stopping at his wife's side, David started to pat her shoulders.

"She is in a better place now," he repeated with a forced smile. "There is nothing to worry about."

Once again, Helen didn't reply anything. She just kept looking at the sketchbook with tender eyes, as if it was her own daughter. There was no way to comfort her, not today, so Alex decided to give her and his uncle some time alone as he silently left the kitchen.

Wandering in the house, thinking about what he could do to help, the young man eventually stopped in front of a wooden door. It was giving access to a small room, her room –or at least, it was supposed to become her room, but she never got to use it. After hesitating a bit, Alex pushed the door.

The first thing he saw was a figure sitting on the floor. For a split of a second, he thought –hoped- that it was her, but it wasn't.

"Hey." The figure simply said with a husky voice.

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