Bab 2: The system is dead

What it lost in advantage—in striking first, the mysterious force gained in momentum.

Towering high above the system, it slammed down, unleashing a devastating cleansing skill that purified the murky system.

"Ahh!" The system shrieked in pain, looking at its shriveling body, which shrank and dried up with every half-second that passed.

"What have you done to me?" Its voice was shrill and cracking like a broken radio.

"How could you…? It's not possible. Unless you are… No, no, no, you're supposed to be extinct—"

The mysterious force gave it a smack, cutting off its words and hastening the cleansing process.

Its body gave an uncomfortable squelch as it flopped down dead.

Confirming it was dead, the force retreated away from the sea of consciousness, fading.

Before completely fading, it gave one last pulse, sending a shockwave through the body.

Outwardly, the glowing blue spiral runic-like tattoos merged back into the man's body, turning invisible.

Immediately afterward, the man's eyes snapped open. Taking a deep breath in, he let out wheezes.

There was something lodged in his throat.

Instinctively, his throat and stomach contracted, trying to push out the foreign substance.

He held onto the pristine white bowl and stuffed his face into it, dry vomiting.

After another series of wheezing, he spat out something.

Jidenna stared at the thick, murky green blob he coughed out.

His body recoiled in disgust, moving far away from it, only stretching out his palm to turn on the tap, watching the water wash it down the drain.

He cupped both hands together, collecting water. Taking it into his mouth, he gurgled it before spitting it right out into the sink.

He took more water, splashing it on his face when he caught sight of the man standing before him.

It was a rugged, dark-skinned man with dreads.

Entranced, he lifted his arm to touch the man in the object in front of him. The man too mirrored his actions; his sculptured arm stretched out to him too.

Immediately, the tips of their fingers touched.

Flashes of information went through his mind.

He understood this was called a mirror, a reflective object, and that… the man in the mirror was… him.

****

After his mini session, gazing at himself in the mirror and understanding what it was, it was only then that he realized the strange, nose-numbing odor that wafted out of his body.

A thin film of green-like substance layered his body.

'Ugh, it smells.'

He threw his nose to the side, scampering into the bathroom.

He had only come out after he was done.

He wondered, 'Where did those things come from?' He sniffed at his clean body. 'Thank God it's gone now.'

Blissfully unaware of the war waged over his body and that "green, smelly" thing was the body of the system that lost the war, plus its own accumulated impurities and all the impurities in his body.

Walking out of the bathroom, the towel hung over his shoulders, his fingers mistakenly brushed past a wooden stick leaned by the side.

The sudden rush of information that passed through his head caused him to stumble over his own foot, nearly falling face flat.

He grabbed and hung onto the wall, only to be bombarded by another wave of information.

He stayed at the same spot, careful not to touch any unknown thing, only leaning on the wall.

He closed his eyes, digesting the information he had received.

A few minutes later, he regained himself. The loads of information were only about two objects—a mop and a frame.

Basic information, like what they were, what they were used for, and how to use them.

Once this sunk in, his eyes lit up.

From then on, he went on a spree, touching every unknown object he could lay his hands on in the house.

When touching one of the objects, he was reminded of something.

The world beyond.

His heart itched in anticipation to know how the world outside would look.

The genius civilization that had created so much that even in his time could only be done with powers.

That thought caused him to pause. "His time? Powers? What were those?" But in reply, all he received was a sharp ache.

He retracted his thoughts back to his previous goal.

Rather than having a splitting headache, it was better to focus on what he had before him now—a fascinating world beyond.

Before the brown-painted door, his fingers trembled slightly in barely covered excitement.

Yanking it open, bright daylight flooded in. He was taken aback by an unfamiliar but breathtaking sight.

Clashes from different sides; his head turned from side to side, unsure of where to start.

He decided to start from the top, facing upward. The clear, blue sky with sparse clouds was a familiar sight.

"Huu."

He heaved out a small sigh, then faced downward. Seeing the distance from where he stood and the ground, he realized his room was above the ground.

From his standpoint, he could see throngs of people moving up and down, each with different dressings. Some were like an artist's work, and others more monotone; some were brighter, others darker.

But that wasn't what caught his interest. It was the moving objects people sat on—most rectangular box-like objects that people entered and exited.

There were things he had never seen.

Again, his strange thoughts drew his attention. Was he alive before now? If he was, why couldn't he remember anything?

But this time, he refrained from digging through his mind.

preferred to shy away from the pain.

"When it is time, it will come," he halted any thought of exploring the past.