《Dungeon Chronicles》
000 | Prologue
What should have been another dull day in the Alveron Plains turned out to be the determining factor for the survival of the world of Ether. Located on the south-western part of the Continent of Vertis, the Alveron Plains served both as a border and a convenient frontier for war between the Human Federation and the Beastmen Tribes.
For the past few years, tensions ran high between the two dominant nations in the Continent of Vertis. Both nations seeked dominancy over the entire continent, but with the appearance of the "Dungeon of Quindecim", which held limitless wealth beyond mortal comprehension, at the middle of Alveron Plains, any and all friendly relations between the two nations broke down. War broke out between the two nations¡ªand now, all six races of Ether are on their last legs . . . wagered simply on the off-chance of being able to conquer the Dungeon and its untold wealth.
And thus, is the present state of events in the world of Ether¡ªwhere all the known Races are wagering war over one another on the Alveron Plains, allied with either the armies of Humanity or the Beastmen Tribes.
Lightning dangerously ruptured the bleak sky a distance away. Shrill, blood-curdling screams erupted throughout the battlefield under the churning skies. A nauseating waft of blood and death emanated from the thousand corpses piling on the sludgy ground.
It was only a matter of time before each of the Races finished each other, destryoying every sign of civilization the Races have left on Ether one after another. Once the the Battle of Alveron Plains concludes, the last legs of both the Beastmen and the Human Races will collapse. Roits and rebellions would plague the human country, while the Beastmen tribes would turn against one another. The conclusion of the battle would spell the end for both supowerpowers and thus, the Races of Ether would then completely wipe each other out¡ªultimately reducing the world into a desolated and lifeless planet.
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But that is, if all Races of Ether participated in the War.
With the appearance of the Dungeon of Quindecim, a new Race was introduced. A Race which was known to only be bounded in the confines of Quindecim. The Demon Race.
But, contrary to popular belief, the monsters inside the Dungeon could exit the Dungeon. The reason they don¡¯t, is because of the grand plan orchestrated by the ¡®Dungeon Master¡¯.
Make the Races wipe each other out, thus letting the Demon Race rule the world of Ether freely. The Gods have used up their remaining strength gambling on their final chess piece with hopes that it''ll listen to their orders like any ordinary goody two shoes.
Underneath the bloodied battlefield, a cold, calculated voice called out, ¡°Tell Scythrax that Operation Genesis is a go. Let them run wild and free.¡±
In response to her Master¡¯s voice, a beauty with the grace of a regal princess nodded and curtsied respectively. Heading out of the chamber akin to a throne room, the being was left alone in the huge chamber.
Its seemingly bored atmosphere was broken when it gave a small smirk. Then a cold laugh resounded throughout the chamber. ¡°As if I would let myself be a play-toy to the gods. I¡¯ve had enough in my old life. I will not let my life slip out of my control and let others control me. Never again.¡±
The being reverted once again to its cold, apathetic self and smiled mischievously. ¡°Never again.¡±
UNEDITED; WORD COUNT: 529
001 | Never Again
What should have been another normal day in my fifteen years of living, turned out to be the day my human life ended- or should I say, Quentin Decimal¡¯s life ended. I don¡¯t even know who or what I am exactly anymore. Just that, the ¡®me¡¯ back then is no longer the ¡®me¡¯ now and that this world, is a completely different world from the one I lived in back then.
I should have been on my way home from another hellish day at school and the only thing awaiting me as I turned the corner towards the building that I so ironically called ¡°home¡± is another day of torture and abuse. That has been my ¡®normal¡¯ for the past eight years of my life. Ever since my mother died at the tragic car accident my father has been incessantly reminding and blaming me that it was my fault she was dead, life took a turn to the absolute worst.
Back in my childhood, I was happy. My family was like any other normal American family. We celebrated Christmas with my other relatives, my dad took my mom out on dates to celebrate their yearly anniversaries, my only worries back then were if I could go out with my friends to play videogames.
But the sudden death of my mom changed everything.
I still remember it up until now, even when I¡¯m in a completely different world I can still hear the very life inside of her escaping with each of her short breaths. I can still see it- the way a black sedan came cruising out from seemingly nowhere and crashing into our car. How my mom reached out and protected me as she saw the outlines of the car making its way towards ours. How the next moments became a blur of color and then a sudden blackness washed over me. I remember fading in and out of consciousness- blurred faces, muted shouting, doctors and nurses whispering were some of the only things I could remember during the hours after the accident.
When I came to, everything was finished. She was dead.
The weeks after that became a blur.
With the absence of mom, everything changed inside the house.
I became a recluse, spending hours on end locked away in my room playing videogames to fill the hole in my heart where she had once been. My dad became a drunkard, losing his job in the local construction company; drinking day in and day out with no end; throwing fits of anger during the occasional moments when he¡¯s sober.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Without a job and with his new-found drinking addiction, my dad became a useless excuse of a parent. We slowly emptied the family bank account all these years to pay for our expenses. It¡¯s a wonder how we could have survived until today.
My relationship with dad, however, completely turned to the worse after mom¡¯s death. During the occasional moments when he wasn¡¯t drunk, he was having constant outbursts which were almost always directed towards me. His outbursts and abuse soon became a regular thing in our household.
The verbal abuse I learned to cope with through the years, the physical part of the abuse, however, was the one I learned to fear. I locked myself away in my room most of the time, making sure the door was locked before I could relax and calm down. The times when he caught me outside of my room were the one of the many times when I wished I was the one rotting away a hundred feet beneath the world rather than my mom.
When the school year started, I became cold and distant to everyone and slowly, friends just started disappearing. I constantly had to hide the scars and injuries I gained from dad¡¯s abuse, ostracizing the people around me with my paranoid attitude. In short, I became a loner. That¡¯s when the jokes and bullying started. Muffled whispers about the weirdo kid with the dead mom and the drunkard dad, the loner mommy¡¯s boy who¡¯s still mourning a death from eight years ago.
Verbal abuse gradually turned into physical assault. With my lanky and scrawny physique, I was the perfect candidate to bullies. Being totally apathetic and indifferent to the bullying didn¡¯t help either. I became used to being used by others, my money being taken by kids twice my size, my books being thrown around like nobody¡¯s business.
The teachers and staff tried to help me, but even they were completely helpless when the jocks and queen bees ruled the school population with an iron fist. Who they deemed bullied, remained as bullied and I was one of the main targets of these so-called kings and queens.
Our family soon became the joke of the entire town. The once perfect Decimals family now reduced to an empty shell all because of the death of one Sarah Decimals.
That was my life back on Earth. But now, now I don¡¯t even know what I am or where I am.
I try remembering what happened while I was making my way home, but only a pounding headache assaulted me with what I assumed were hazy glimpses of a memory that was quickly fading away from my mind.
Right now, only sheer unending darkness stretching into seeming infinity covered my vision. My senses were entirely numb¡ªforcing me to focus on the black horizon, forcing me to float on the black unknown supposedly devoid of all signs of life. But somehow, instinctively, I knew I was alive. I am still alive.
My head is blank. I do not know what is happening to me, but what I do know, is that if this is a second chance in life, or afterlife, never again will I let myself go through everything I¡¯ve suffered through a second time. Never again.