In an infinite and all-encompassing darkness, Dean thought he glimpsed a ray of light.
Even though he was still confused at that moment, the young man instinctively knew that staying in this place would not be a good idea.
Following that instinct, he jolted awake, as if forcibly torn from a nightmare.
[ A-alternative… S-success… ]
A robotic voice echoed faintly in his ears, but the sudden sensory flood prevented him from noticing it.
His chest heaved up and down in a jerky rhythm as he tried to regain control of his panting breath.
"W-Where am I? A hospital?" he muttered, scanning his surroundings.
Fortunately, Dean quickly regained control of his mental state thanks to the subtle influence of the AI within him.
Even though the latter was still recovering after having protected Dean's soul from the previous chaotic torrent of information.
'Pajamas? Since when do pajamas this extravagant exist? And how the hell did I know it was pajamas in the first place?' he thought to himself.
His body lay on a large, plush bed, dressed in loose and luxurious pajamas.
There were no visible injuries, despite the phantom pain that still lingered.
"This is weird. I clearly felt my b-brain frying… How come I'm not injured? Even if I'm unharmed, I should be in a hospital. Is this some kind of wacky hospital?" he said, observing the decoration around him.
It was only at that moment that Dean began to notice something familiar as he examined the room.
Yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
A bit like when someone wants to say something important, but the words escape them at the last second.
A frustrating feeling.
"Wait a minute… what the hell is this?!" His voice rose involuntarily, betraying an important detail he hadn't noticed at first.
Dean realized something was wrong, beyond the richly decorated appearance of the room.
There was no lighting or air conditioning in this "hospital," and no electrical devices were present.
Surprised, he got up to better inspect the room, and his gaze fell on a large mirror in the bedroom.
A young and familiar face was reflected in it: a slender nose, a long and pale face like a sheet of paper, long black hair, and eyes of an icy blue.
The reflection was no longer the one he knew, but that of a boy at the beginning of adolescence.
"Have I become my avatar?" he murmured, noticing for the first time his immature voice.
The shock of this reality was so strong that the AI within him couldn't fully manage the situation.
Dean's mind had to shoulder part of the burden.
Involuntarily, he collapsed onto the bed.
Immediately, an excruciating pain burned in his head, accompanied by a flood of strange memories that assaulted him.
Now he understood why this place felt so familiar.
"Geppeto!? I'm Emrys Geppeto?"
The adolescent struggled to sort through these unexpected memory fragments, surging from nowhere, after murmuring the name of the being known as his avatar.
The world he had crossed into was supposed to be fictional:
Aetherum.
A medieval and magical world that he had once explored with other players… without success.
This rich universe consisted of several kingdoms, all located on a tiny continent named Hyperbore.
Legend had it that it was merely the remnants of a vanished supercontinent.
Currently, Dean was in the Crimson Kingdom, named in honor of its founder, the Crimson King.
He was precisely in a medium-sized city called Eaux Sales, occupying a strategic location on the border with the Astral Empire.
Geppeto's father, Baron Emrys, was a respected local lord.
Although the rank of baron was the lowest in the noble hierarchy, he had earned it through his blood and sweat in countless wars.
Originally the son of a puppeteer craftsman, he had enlisted in the army at a very young age and served for twenty years, distinguishing himself notably in the battle waged by the Crimson Kingdom against the Astral Empire, a belligerent nation to the west.
After leaving the army due to a knee injury caused by an arrow, the king bestowed upon Old Emrys the title of baron as well as suitable land on the border between the kingdom and the empire.
However, Old Emrys preferred to live in the city and only occasionally visited his fief to collect taxes.
Dean recovered many memories of Old Emrys in his mind, but those of his mother remained very vague.
He vaguely remembered that she was a woman from the south of the Hyperbore continent, captured by slave traders because of her exotic features.
Beyond that detail, Dean also knew that her eyes were as icy as his own, according to his father.
'Even if I'm not the real Geppeto, thinking about my deceased mother irritates me,' he thought, clenching his fist.
"Dong, dong, dong."
While Dean was still immersed in his new memories, knocks echoed from the other side of the door.
Instinctively, he shouted in an authoritative tone: "Come in!"
The bedroom door opened gently. A maid in a gray uniform entered, carrying a change of clothes.
"Young Master Geppeto, here are your clothes for today," she said in a soft voice, subtly avoiding any eye contact.
At the sight of the maid, Dean was once again overwhelmed by memories. This was his personal chambermaid, Chloé.
(Image)
As for their relationship, Dean would describe it as complex, but far from a simple crush on Geppeto's part or the reverse.
"Very well, leave them here and go," Dean replied after observing the graceful silhouette of the woman in her maid's outfit.
Chloé, who had kept her head lowered the whole time, finally slowly raised her eyes toward her young master.
Her skin was very pale, dotted with freckles on her cheeks.
However, Geppeto would always call her beautiful despite her somewhat unusual appearance.
"Young Master Geppeto, young lady Darcy is waiting downstairs for breakfast."
Geppeto nodded after a brief moment of reflection.
"Alright, I'll be down in a minute."
Chloé bowed slightly, lifted her dress in a graceful movement, and left the room silently.
Finally, Geppeto got up and put on the change of clothes that Chloé had left on the desk.
The comfortable white shirt seemed to be made of cotton or a similar material. Clearly, it had been entirely handmade, given the absence of any traces of machine use.
After putting on the loose coat, Dean examined his avatar's appearance in the mirror.
Aside from his intimidating eyes, everything else seemed pleasant to look at from a modern perspective.
He would even say that Geppeto was slightly above average.
The adolescent made a few small adjustments before leaving his room and heading down the hallway.
There, he spotted his half-sister, Darcy.
(Image)
The blonde girl was sitting on a chair, looking tense despite an expression of annoyance.
Unlike Geppeto, his half-sister had scarlet eyes that fixed on him with slight resentment.
Clearly, Dean had made her wait a bit too long.
"Stop staring at me like that! We have to go quickly; we can't be late to church again."
Darcy abruptly grabbed his hand and tried to pull it. However, Dean pulled it back and sat down on the chair.
He gestured to a maid to bring breakfast after settling in.
"Church? Do I already have classes to become a knight?"
Geppeto asked, observing the food the maid had placed in front of him.
With one eyebrow raised, he displayed his confusion, as he had no idea about the origin of most of the dishes on the table.
Although he had recovered a large part of Emrys Geppeto's memories, one important fragment still remained to be discovered.
Darcy widened her eyes but held back from throwing a fit.
She lowered her voice and explained:
"Emrys Geppeto, stop it! Even though Dad is away collecting taxes, he clearly said you have to train at the church!"
Even though Darcy hadn't really answered his question, she confirmed something important to Geppeto:
He was right in the middle of the tutorial for the secondary class "knight."