Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

It may seem strange to the residents of this world, especially someone like the Journal, but for someone like me this is the equivalent of being right at home. However this new home needs to be studied a little more when compared to my old one.

“I still cannot comprehend why, oh why, one would willing do something like this to themselves.” The Journal floated above my shoulder as I peeked over the walls of the tower, “Much less you who would do something like this for fun.”

“You have access to my memories, my thoughts, no?” The end of my pencil was tapping my temple, “Wouldn’t it just be better for you to just use that?”

“Then it wouldn’t be fun that way.”

“That’s true,” I said plainly, “Because the joy of learning is in the discovery, understanding, and application of that learning.”

The pencil’s point scribbled on the paper, ending on the corner of the page before I closed the notebook. It was a thick item, made of coarse paper and heavy leather and I looked at the cover when I closed it.

“This will be my study Journal, the first of its kind, and within it will be me deciphering the laws of this world.”

The Journal’s silence could be heard in the silent night. He didn’t speak, neither did he read my mind, instead he just listened to my next words despite knowing what they were.

“Games and the world are no different in my eyes,” I looked at the roaming undead underneath me, the grotesque creatures unaware of my presence, “They adhere to specific rules… specific inputs that process into specific outputs. We simply don’t know what those rules are– those lines of code that make time tick.” 

“Then I assume you don’t believe in randomness?”

“Of course not, because randomness itself has a purpose and isn’t just what it seems. We simply don’t know what that is yet.” 

The Journal did not answer to that and instead watched Hyun make his way down into the sleeping quarters of the tower. He was already in his sleeping wear, the same clothes he wore when he abruptly transferred into this world, a ritual of not forgetting where he came from.

The conscious book only watched as he set down his journal atop his own personal journal, the details of the day already filled out in its respective day within. He simply didn’t have the words to say to the boy.

Slowly, the boy closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep. 

His goals are not new to the Journal, for there had been many before him that sought out the purpose of the world, its laws and its rules, but  no one before has ever asked themselves the question…

“Why is the world, the world?” The Journal found himself saying, “What a strange lad.”

But it was not a remark made with disdain, but begrudging acceptance.

“It seems I have grown old, that the thoughtless naivety of a boy gives me so much…enjoyment. It is a shame that I do not have a body to accompany you in your endeavor– it is my curse to bear after all.”

So the Journal just watched.

He knew what the boy was planning to do, but their realms of understanding the matter were different. That was the difference between someone who came from another world.

Clang!

Cold steel clashes with the wall of the tower, leaving a score deep within the bricks, the sun was not even half-way up in the sky, the traveler was already wide awake, and by the time dawn cracked he was already working.

Crackle!

Twigs and small branches crackled in the heat, while stone crumbled underneath his pickaxe. 

Crack!

“There you go–” The demon grinned, prying his tool free from the cut stone slab, a small slot carved into the ground.

Either he was weak, or the stone was unnaturally strong. Regardless, the Journal only watched in silence. The demon’s nose scrunches as the foul stench of miasma leaks from the floor’s new opening.

Hyun steps back with his left foot and drags it clockwise as he turns, and when his foot is now behind his right, he shifts his weight into it to bring down the war-hammer on an imaginary sparring partner.

Whoosh!

 The momentum-charged blow from above is followed by a lunge of the spike, and a twirl of the handle to drive the claw into the air– completing a sequence of attacks using all three parts of the gifted weapon.

However silence only followed the display, not praise or celebration and munching of freshly roasted vegetables paired with dried meat. The meal was done as quickly as the meal was prepared, and the demon set down his knife beside his war-hammer on the table.

It was on a long hardwood pole, holding a sledgehammer sized blunt head, a talon-like spike opposite of that, and a spearhead shaped point in-between. 

He took the pickaxe and chiseled away at the floor, making little movement that would disturb the food inside his stomach, while slowly enlarging the coin-sized hole into one large enough for his hand. By the time that was accomplished, night had fallen.

Again, not a single word was spoken. 

The Journal could only watch what he would describe as hypnosis.

Crush!

The hammer descended with a heavy blow, shattering the skull of the skeleton that tried to reach him. His gaze then turned to the zombie to his right and he lunged forward to drive the spike into its brain.

Thunk!

The sharp, spear-like tip quickly stopped the zombie’s movement, but did not kill it. Another was approaching through the smoky wisps of the defeated skeleton and he did not have time to use the weapon.

“Tch.” A click of the tongue escaped the demon after hours of eerie silence, followed by a groan made by him backhanding the undead creature with his armored left hand.

Pow!

The blow landed on the rotting corpe’s jaw, knocking it cleanly off. Again, it did not die but stumbled away to quickly find its balance. The player remained stock underneath the visor of his helmet and with the same hand he reached for a knife to throw at the first monster.

Thunk!

He pierced its heart with it, the walking corpse immediately losing its stiffness, leaning into the weapon in his hand. Hyun pried the weapon from the head, cutting through the bone and flesh– grasping it like a bat to swing the hammer into the second undead.

Slam!

“Huff–” a large cloud of hot breath escaped the holes of the visor, followed by a heavy inhale. “Undead.” The name exited with a tinge of annoyance. “Fodder, annoying chores that are not too easy but neither are they too difficult.”

The Journal just observed, but he knew what he was talking about. The dead are simple to defeat, either by destroying the brain or the heart, the only two possible places that could house the Miasmatic core, an anchoring point that connects the physical medium to the ethereal plane.

The problem lies in reaching those cores because it is random amongst the hordes. A zombie can have one, either in the head or the heart, or in extremely rare cases two. The difficulty of the task lies in the protection of those points and the natural swarming instinct of zombies.

They are not powerful on their own but in large enough numbers, coupled by the randomness of their cores and  the protection they could have in terms of armor or other physical properties, can overwhelm a person who cannot eliminate them fast enough.

Twangg! Tink!

“Ah, I miscalculated.”

Think!

Another arrow comes from behind, landing again on the broadside of the back of his armor, nicking only the surface of the steel, the arrow and bow too weak to do any major damage. He turned to face the skeleton, finding that half of its head was gone. 

Crack!

So he aimed for where the heart could be behind the rib-cage. The fight ended as quickly as it started.

Poof!

The straw cushion coarsely, the player’s eyes closing as soon as his head landed on the bedding. The Journal only looked at the rigid body relax, the cost of the day’s intense labor being paid for.

“Not a single thought aside from the task at hand…” the Journal chuckled.“If you were a monk, you would be praised as faithful.”

The floating book then turned to scan the room, “However that is simply your discipline, maybe your insanity. The more I learn about your world, the more curious I am of what kind of place it was for you to seek mine instead.”

The Journal was a being of incredible power in the realm of knowledge, but in the physical realm he was only an observer. However he was not alone, and the nagging feeling that has been clawing at its mind finally beginning to settle. The floating book only turned to face a distant stronghold, a location hidden far away in the corner of the world, hidden by mountains, buried by seas, covered in clouds, doused in fire– an empty frame with twelve eye shaped slots intricately carved onto it. 

“Continue to sharpen yourself, Demon. It seems your purpose of being summoned into this world has been determined. You’re a wise lad, you already have an idea of what you were summoned for.”

Hyun’s face contorted sharply while he laid asleep, his body turning and flinching. “Is that why you’re in fear?” The Journal could only float closer to his head, “It seems it has begun… The Visions– the only curse older than I.”

“You soon must find companions, this burden if carried alone will kill you.” The journal could only shake itself in disapproval as it returned to the table next to the bed, resting in silence as it watched the traveler continue to spasm in his dreams. Eventually they began to subside and he returned to sleeping quietly. 

Clang!

The second notch of the second series was inscribed on the wall, but the edge of the dagger did not leave the stone immediately like the day before. Instead the carver only glared at the notch, “For some reason, I feel like shit.” He grumbled, “Hungover? That wouldn’t be the right word…strange.”

The Journal only watched in silence, its pages sealed shut by its own being, a code that must never be broken– a pact set by the being that created it, a phantasmal hand holding it shut.

So he just watched as the demon recreated the day before again and again for the following days.