This is a hidden gem, and the author means it with his heart and soul. ~~~ How much do you know about transmigration? Are our awareness of such a word, what allows us an understanding of it, or is it just our own delusion that allows us comprehension of what it truly is? It is something that I, the author himself want answers to... Alfir, my alter ego and persona, the very penname I wield shall be the protagonist of our own little story~ a story within a story. Let's watch him struggle against his fate as he plunges himself into a world that he himself wrote. We shall immerse ourselves in his manic perspective. From the third person, we shall observe what he shall become. Until he realizes the reality of I, of me, of a first perspective. When he does, will he break? Or will it be rebirth? I don't know... What I do know, is that he'll just get meaner the longer he remains ignorant of the truth. *** POWER LEVELS by Potentai Grade. 100% Potential Grade is Champion. It is the pinnacle of mutation powers. This is when an individual is able to manifest the absoluteness of their powers, changing topographies would be a cinch for mutants at this grade. These mutants are generally called the ‘evolved’. 99% Potential Grade is Peak. This is the ‘peak’ of mortal abilities. Strength, agility, intelligence, etcetera… the Peak-grade is when a mutant reaches their maximum humanly attributes. 98% to 80% Potential Grade is Destructive. Also known as city-destroyers. They can deal significant damage. This is the starting point of the truly strong mutants. 79% to 50% Potential Grade is Magical. This is when mutant abilities start to look magical in the eyes of an ordinary person. They represent competency. 41% to 49% Potential Grade is Ability. Mutants in this grade are those who have overcome their talent. 40% to 6% Potential Grade is Talent. The starting point of any mutant ability. 5% and below are Human, and these people are unqualified to attend the academy. *** The cover photo is not mine, tell me if you want me to remove it. This novel is not generating any money. Take this warning very seriously... MC is crazy as fuck, and the author is very high with 'depression' when he wrote this particular work. It will be dark, gory, bloody, and mashed up with lots of familiar genres that may not seem to fit in... yet they perfectly do... Isekai? Check. Medieval fantasy? Check. Sci-fi tech? Check. Mutants? Check. Battle Academies? Check. Dungeons? Check. Fantasy monsters? Check. Heroes and Villains? CHECK! Outdated governments? Check... Romance? Fucked up, but it will be fine... no harem though. Is MC OP? I am not sure. As long as he has prep time, he is invincible... Would he still have character progression? Yes, he will, in the form of recovering from his insanity. MC's superpower is a kind of mental suggestion with 'very interesting' applications. This is my first original work, a kind of unique self-insert using my penname as the story's protagonist. Definitely not a Self-Wish Fulfilment, more like a Self-Curse Venting. The only problem in this novel is the shifting of tenses. It is like a damn curse. Writing other novels, I was able to maintain fluid tenses in the whole chapter, but this? It is not that bad, really... It is readable and has those adrenaline-pumping moments too. I know, cause even though I am its author, I can similarly feel this adrenaline pumping when I read this 'trash' that I treasure greatly.
I fainted, but instead of darkness, I was met with this——— a reflection of my memory. People moved according to how I originally remembered it. Mom prepared the food like she usually does, while dad drinks his coffee as he read the newspapers.
The vehicles moved like they used to. Then there is me with his casual routine of lurking on the internet, not exactly me, but a copy of me. But far from the monstrosity that appeared in that nightmarish sequence, this Alfir in front of me looked tame.
They can't see me nor can I interfere with their lives. It's like I am watching a virtual reenactment.
This world is in a replay, on a loop, a repeating fragment of memories. I visited my memories like how you would stroll in a park, following the path and the signs.
"It's a pity, you have the potential of becoming our fallen god." An old man stroking his beard blocks my path. He stood guardian of a red door. I cannot recognize it with a glance but somehow I know... This is Minion #12913's memories.
"What are you?" I calmly asked seeking to glean even the tiniest information from his gestures.
"I am like you... A tampered memory, and the others... They are the same." There was a dangerous gleam in the old man's eyes.
There is something very wrong going on. He is too calm. I can't get a read of him.
"I can kill you with a single thought." I threaten the ego in front of me.
"Try me." He treated my threats like air, nothing. If you think I won't do it, you are gravely mistaken— Of course, my bluff doesn't mean anything to him.
The old man smiled with his teeth showing, mirth overflowing from his breath, like a madman. The image he is displaying is far from the sage-like appearance he initially showed me. "TREMBLE!"
I can feel my weight getting heavier and with a BAM, I crashed onto the hard concrete pavement.
Is this mutation!? Just how?
The power of gravity weighed on me. The 'act' itself was baffling. How in the world can a mere 'ego' do this? Not even I can use my mutation in this place.
"I don't care if I am a tampered memory, but it damn feels good to be alive." Seeing my struggle, the mad old man thumped his staff to the ground furthering the intensity of the weight bearing on my shoulders.
Cracks slowly formed with me at its center.
I don't bleed, but it is painful. I can't shut down my nerves in this world. In fact, I can't feel my mutation in this world.
"Why did you agree to become subservient to me in the first place? Why kill me now? And not before?" I said through gritted teeth. I imagine my gums bleeding from the pressure, but the lack of the rusty taste says otherwise.
"Don't you remember the deal? I can give you flesh and bones, that was not a lie. I can do it." I said with sincerity to the old man.
"It's simple. Because it's scripted. You and I have no choice but to follow the words dictated to us by whoever is responsible for stuffing our souls into this body. Not a lie? As if."
But I truly am, I KNOW a WAY! He doesn't trust me from the very beginning. The old man raised his hand indicating the use of his mutation. I cannot imagine dying in this mental space, but I don't see why not.
Seeing the old man's greedy eyes is enough proof for me. Is this it?
"Goodbye— CENTER CONVERGENCE!" The old man raised his staff, invoking his mutant powers.
But.
The attack came fast, swift as lightning, with a frightening concentration of heat.
Tnnnnggggggggg~ zzzzap!
The old man's raised arm was instead cleanly severed in an instant. His right arm fell and the gravity engulfing my being is now suddenly gone.
The felled right arm slowly turned to ash as the old man regenerate his right arm to its original state. This is not a mutation. I reckon it's the law of this world responsible for this.
Electric sparks start fluctuating in the air.
There was a flash of lightning, and between me and the old man stood a nerdy but musculature guy. No, I will simply call him Glasses.
Glasses turned his back to me as if he doesn't think of my existence as a threat.
Wait. What? Is he confronting oldie, aren't they allies?
"The fossil is right. It was scripted. If you look at it from many angles, your conversation with him back then felt wrong in so many ways."
Is he talking to me?
It makes sense. It took no effort to me of convincing the old man. When I claimed that I can give him flesh and bones, he easily accepted without any suspicion. It's not like multiple personalities can doubt, right?
"Relax, I will protect you. Stay still. You won't be able to use your mutation here, since you left it in your body. This mental world has a set of rules restricting you aplenty, just trust me on this one." Glasses gave me some comforting words.
I can feel the resoluteness of his voice. I have many questions, and it keeps on piling up.
"You meddling buffoon! Just be honest with yourself. You also want this body, right?"
Suddenly, someone, intrudes into the two-part conversation of Glasses and the old man.
"Please stop. We have lost a lot today." It was a baby, but the uptight way he speaks sounds more like an adult.
Lost? I don't get it.
Glasses's eyes squinted as he focused his gaze on the elderly. I don't know why, but I am feeling a familiar vibe from this Glasses person.
Maybe realizing of my doubts, Glasses offered a kind explanation.
"Let me explain," Glasses tapped the nose bridge of his glasses. I can already picture it without seeing his face. Then, he proceeded with a factual tone. "We are 'tampered memories', but we are not a product of the late Minion#12193's multiple personalities like what this fossil claims. Like you, we are born from independent souls."
Glasses then glanced at me, addressing me with the same factual tone.
"We awakened our consciousness just after yours. Oldie here is the oldest and strongest among us, thus he was able to appear before you. He is also the one who has watched you the longest, and he realized through his observation that there is something very peculiar about you..."
Glasses explained to me. I got the gist of it. This means I did not transmigrate alone.
The old man avoided my gaze as I slowly form a theory of my own. The old man is gripping his staff too hard, his veins are visibly popping from his skin. I can trust Glasses here with my life. I don't know what his agenda is, but I have to make use of everything I have.
"You nerdy fuck. How the hell did you deduce all that? When I was elected president of our little fan club, I acted quite convincingly."
"You preached how we are a product of multiple personalities, of fakes leading fake lives in this mental landscape. You told us we are psyche parasites that exist in a realm smaller than Alfir... You thought you convinced all of us. When you tried to possess this body, you thought that you had it in the bag. It must be a surprise to learn half of the people you promised freedom suddenly turned their back on you. You are a selfish manipulative bastard." There is poison in Glasses's tongue, real anger, not of delusional mental instability but human temper.
This is a shocker. Are you telling me that people are living inside of me?! No, they are not people. They are souls.
In Mutagenic Medieval, souls have more scientific weight than the spiritual value they possess. These souls are the essence of the human ego. Is this what the old man meant by 'stuffing souls' into one body? At this point, I am already certain, I did not transmigrate alone.
I am not even sure if 'transmigrate' is the right word.
"Enough is enough! We have LOST too many lives already! Stop the fighting!" The infant cried.
"Infant, come and join me. We need to eradicate the ego known as Alfir. Only by doing so can we be safe. His physical state is very weak right now. This is our only chance." The old man nagged.
"Don't listen to this fossil fucker. Infant, he is beguiling you! Think, who do you think is responsible for killing our compatriots?" And the teen complained.
A choice, Infant needs to make a choice. He was born in this world, awakened to memories he never knew he had. He sought love and warmth, but he can't find it in this world, so he looked, and there he saw— Alfir struggling in a world more physical than this.
But all he saw was pain, Alfir's demented quandary, self-inflicting harm, and a lot of hardship Infant thought impossible. So, he returned— to this cold world where he was born. There, he met people like him... Minds askew, but in harmony... of mutual understanding and loving family... It isn't so cold anymore.
Today, he lost them... A lot of them.
He doesn't want to choose, because choosing means losing someone. So he escaped, he vanished from their sights, the infant's figure melting to obscurity.
…