Azrael - Angel Of Death

FEAR - fear has two meaning

-Forget everything and run

-Face everything and rise

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In a dimly lit room, Ray, a middle-aged man in Nigeria, sat on a worn couch, tapping away at his PS console with practiced ease. The walls were cluttered with food cans, a testament to his solitary lifestyle. His fingers moved with precision, navigating through the final battle of the game "Sword Master Useless Son," where he controlled the often-dismissed character, Roy White.

This particular battle pitted Roy against the formidable "God of Destruction," a challenge that had stymied many gamers before him. Ray, however, possessed unique advantages—a deep understanding of the game's mechanics and a secret cheat code that boosted Roy's abilities significantly under specific conditions.

Throughout his years of playing, Ray had not only discovered a way to unlock Roy's hidden potential but also streamed his game play online. His skill and determination drew a massive audience, their donations pouring in as they witnessed his audacious attempt to conquer the game's ultimate challenge.

The battle raged on the screen, each move meticulously calculated as Ray maneuvered Roy through the labyrinthine virtual world. The God of Destruction's digital form loomed large, its attacks relentless and unforgiving. Yet Ray persisted, his tactics honed through countless hours of game play.

As the final clash unfolded, tension mounted in Ray's small room. With a triumphant shout, he finally bested the God of Destruction, a feat that had eluded even the most skilled players in the game's history.

"I did it!" Ray exclaimed, exhilaration coursing through him as he leaped from the couch, fists pumping in victory. The virtual achievement felt real, a testament to his dedication and strategic prowess.

But amidst his jubilation, a familiar sensation gripped Ray—a tightening in his chest that he recognized all too well. Despite having taken his medication just an hour ago, the onset of a heart attack caught him off guard.

Frantically searching his cluttered room, Ray sought his pills, his vision blurring with each passing moment. Panic surged as he collapsed to the floor, his last thoughts echoing a bittersweet realization.

"So this is it," he thought ruefully. "I'll die here, alone."

Yet, as consciousness faded, a profound shift occurred—a transition to a new existence, one that defied all he knew.

---

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In the infinite void beyond earthly realms, a figure with white hair stirred from slumber. His piercing blue eyes fixated on a luminous orb, strands of golden light shimmering like lifelines in the darkness.

"It's time," he murmured, voice resonating with purpose as he began to manipulate the threads of fate connected to the orb. Each strand pulsed with potential, its glow hinting at the profound impact it held over the world below.

As he worked, a solemn hope filled him—a hope that the soul now transported would fulfill its destiny. For in a world teetering on the brink of chaos, Ray's journey had only just begun.

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As I awakened in that unfamiliar room, reality unfolded before me in a way that defied all explanation. The stark white ceiling and mundane surroundings slowly revealed themselves, connecting me not just to a game, but to a world where my choices held profound consequences beyond mere pixels and screens.

"Did I... transcend?" I muttered to myself, disbelief mingling with awe as I surveyed the room that mirrored one from the game. The sight of a uniform, scattered books, and a laptop hinted at a new beginning—one intricately tied to the fate of Vincent Jobs and the looming threat of the God of Destruction.

Shifting on the cool sheets beneath me, I noticed the simple, neatly made bed with its hospital corners and a thin blanket folded neatly at its foot. A bedside table stood nearby, adorned with a small vase holding a single vibrant daffodil—a stark contrast against the clinical atmosphere.

Pushing myself upright, I took in the rest of the room. To my left, an open wooden closet revealed rows of impeccably hung uniforms—crisp white shirts and navy blue trousers, accompanied by polished black shoes that seemed to beckon with promise.

Next to the closet, a cluttered wooden desk spanned the wall, adorned with books of various sizes and genres. Some were well-loved textbooks, their spines creased from frequent use, while others were novels with covers that showed signs of many readings. In the center of the desk, a dark-screened laptop hummed silently, a potential gateway to deeper understanding.

Soft overhead lights bathed the room in a gentle glow, casting delicate shadows that danced along the walls. Through a sheer-curtained window, I glimpsed a serene courtyard outside, a sanctuary of greenery and blooming flowers that stood in stark contrast to the turbulent world I had left behind.

"No... this can't be real," I murmured, a mix of disbelief and excitement churning within me. Stories of transmigration and reincarnation had always been fodder for novels and gaming forums, but to experience it firsthand was a revelation that defied logic.

"Did I... actually transcend?" I questioned again, my voice barely audible in the quiet room. Glancing down, I noted with a strange blend of curiosity and unease that I wore clothes similar to those in the closet—a white shirt and navy trousers that spoke of a uniformity unfamiliar to my former self.

With cautious steps, I approached the desk, my eyes drawn to the laptop's screen. As I neared, it flickered to life, displaying a desktop cluttered with icons—familiar symbols of various applications: a browser, a document editor, and a peculiar shield-adorned icon that reminded me of the game I once played.

I'm now in the world known as havila

I chuckled at the thought

Instinctively, I clicked on the shield icon. A holographic display materialized above the laptop, shimmering with intricate patterns that coalesced into words and images. The interface resembled the user interface from "Sword Master Useless Son," the game I had mastered in my former life.

"Status," I murmured, testing the boundaries of this new reality. Instantly, a transparent blue screen appeared, presenting information that sent a jolt of recognition and disbelief through me.

[Name: Roy White

Age: 16

Rank: F

Affinities: Fire, Earth, Water, Ice, Lightning, Wind

Skills: Swordsmanship (F)]

I stared at the screen, trying to process the implications. I had indeed transcended into the world of "Sword Master Useless Son," not as myself but inhabiting the body of Roy White—a character scorned by gamers for his perceived weaknesses.

A surge of frustration and determination welled up inside me. "Why Roy White?" I muttered, grappling with the reality that my journey in this new world would begin from a disadvantaged position. Yet, alongside the frustration, a resolve stirred—the same determination that had driven me to conquer challenges within the game from the comfort of my former life.

Outside the window, the tranquil courtyard beckoned, its serene beauty contrasting sharply with the turmoil brewing within me. Beyond its peaceful facade lay a world teetering on the edge of chaos—a world threatened by the looming presence of the God of Destruction, an entity I had once defeated in the confines of digital fantasy.

"Vincent Jobs," I whispered, recalling the protagonist whose destiny intertwined with the fate of this world. Vincent, the youngest son of the Jobs family—a lineage of revered swordsmen cursed by the infamous "Sword Mind Breaker," rendering them unable to wield blades.

Pieces of lore and game mechanics clicked into place in my mind, now imbued with the weight of reality. In this world, Vincent had stumbled upon the grave of a god, gaining a system that bestowed upon him abilities far beyond mortal comprehension.

"I'm here for a reason," I declared aloud, my voice steady with newfound purpose. "I defeated the God of Destruction once. If I've been brought here, it's because this world needs me to do it again."

With determination hardening my resolve, I turned back to the laptop, my fingers moving swiftly across the keys as I delved into the game's lore and quest logs. Information unfolded before me, detailing the impending cataclysm, the alliances forged in desperation, and the shadowy figures lurking at the fringes of power.

"This isn't just a game anymore," I reflected, my eyes narrowing with newfound resolve. "This is my chance to rewrite destiny—to transcend the confines of a gamer confined to a screen."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the courtyard outside, I remained immersed in my newfound reality. The room, once a stranger's sanctuary, now resonated with purpose—a purpose that transcended worlds and beckoned me to rise above the limitations that had defined my former existence.

"I will make a difference in this world," I vowed, my reflection in the laptop screen mirroring the determination etched upon my face. "Starting with the defeat of the God of Destruction."

With the weight of destiny upon my shoulders and memories of my former life fading into the background, I embraced my role as Roy White—a character overlooked by gamers, now poised to rewrite history in a world where every decision held the power to alter humanity's future.

And as I delved deeper into the intricate complexities of "Sword Master Useless Son," I knew that my journey had only just begun.

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