《Forsaken Hero》 Summoned From Darkness In the quaint town of Eldermoor, where the sun dipped below the horizon like a shy child hiding behind a curtain, he lived a boy named Myuk. At sixteen, he was a ghost among the living¡ªan inconspicuous figure who drifted through the halls of Eldermoor High like a whisper in the wind. He was not your average teenager; he bore the weight of a past riddled with shadows, a past that clung to him like a second skin. Myuk had bright yellow hair that seemed to catch the sunlight and blue eyes that sparkled with an unspoken longing for a world beyond the pain. Yet, beneath that vibrant exterior lay a timid heart, bruised and battered by the hands of those who were supposed to protect him. His stepfather, a man of towering anger and relentless cruelty, had made Myuk¡¯s childhood a living nightmare. The boy often found himself curled up in a ball on the cold, hard floor of his room, the chill seeping into his bones as he wished for the world to swallow him whole. Each day at school was a mirror reflecting his home life. The laughter of his classmates echoed like a mocking chorus, reminding him of the moments he could never share¡ªmoments filled with joy, acceptance, and love. Instead, he faced the jeers of bullies who thrived on his misery. They would corner him behind the school, their laughter ringing in his ears as they shoved him to the ground. The taste of dirt and humiliation became a familiar flavor he had learned to swallow with quiet resignation. After a long day of torment, Myuk would walk the familiar path home, his heart heavy with dread. As he approached the front door, a knot would tighten in his stomach, the weight of the impending confrontation pressing down on him. The moment he stepped through the door, the air would shift, thickening with tension that wrapped around him like a noose. His stepfather¡¯s voice would boom through the house, a constant reminder of his worthlessness. ¡°You¡¯re a failure, Myuk! You¡¯ll never amount to anything!¡± The words cut more profoundly than any physical blow, leaving scars that would never heal.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. On one particularly dreary afternoon, after enduring yet another beating from his stepfather and the relentless taunts of his peers, Myuk felt the last flicker of hope extinguish within him. He climbed the stairs to the rooftop of Eldermoor High, each step heavy as if the weight of his life was dragging him down. The wind tousled his yellow hair as he stepped to the edge, the cold breeze biting at his skin. The world below seemed so small, so insignificant. He spread his arms wide, feeling the rush of air against his skin, a fleeting sensation of freedom quickly overshadowed by the darkness surrounding his heart. ¡°This is it,¡± he thought, the words echoing in the emptiness of his mind. ¡°The end of everything.¡± But just as he was about to take that final step into oblivion, a blinding light erupted beneath him, illuminating the entire rooftop in a brilliance that defied description. Myuk squinted, shielding his eyes from the searing brightness that enveloped him. The light pulsated like a heartbeat, its rhythm syncing with his own, and in an instant, it swallowed him whole, lifting him from the depths of despair and into the unknown. When the light faded, Myuk found himself in a place unlike anything he had ever seen¡ªa vast, dimly lit dungeon adorned with ancient stone walls, flickering torches, and the faint sound of dripping water echoing in the distance. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and old, forgotten things. Confusion washed over him, mingling with the remnants of his sorrow. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings, when suddenly, a figure stepped forward from the shadows. The lady who emerged was regal, her presence commanding yet ethereal. Long, flowing hair shimmered like liquid silver under the torchlight, cascading down her back in waves. She wore a gown woven with threads of gold and emerald, its fabric catching the light with every movement. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, sparkled with a fierce determination that seemed to pierce through Myuk¡¯s very soul. Behind her stood a group of knights, their armor gleaming and their expressions solemn, forming a protective circle around her as if she were the most precious treasure in the world. ¡°Welcome, summoned hero,¡± she proclaimed, her voice melodic yet commanding, resonating through the cavernous space. ¡°You have been brought here to save our land.¡± Echoes of Worthlessness Myuk stood in the dimly lit dungeon, his heart racing with confusion and disbelief. The regal lady¡¯s words echoed in his mind, reverberating like the toll of a distant bell. ¡°Summoned hero?¡± he whispered, the phrase feeling foreign on his tongue. He looked around, taking in the ancient stone walls and the flickering torches that cast dancing shadows across the floor. The air was thick with an aura of magic, a sensation he had never experienced before. ¡°Where am I?¡± Myuk finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a murmur. The lady stepped closer, her emerald eyes sparkling with compassion and urgency. ¡°You have been summoned to Elandor, a realm filled with magic and wonder but also darkness and despair,¡± she explained, her voice smooth like silk yet imbued with a weight that hinted at the gravity of their situation. ¡°Our land is under siege by an evil force, and we have searched far and wide for a hero to help us reclaim our light. You, Myuk, have been chosen.¡± Elandor. The name rolled off her tongue like a melody, and Myuk felt a flicker of hope ignited within him. For the first time in years, he was free from the oppressive weight of his past life. Here, in this new world, he could be someone different. He could escape the taunts and the pain that had haunted him for so long. The thought was intoxicating. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cool, damp air of the dungeon, and allowed himself a moment to revel in the sensation of liberation. The shadows that had clung to him like a shroud began dissipating, replaced by the promise of something greater. But before he could fully embrace this newfound freedom, the lady gestured to one of the knights standing nearby. The guard, clad in glimmering armor that reflected the torchlight, stepped forward, holding a crystal that pulsed with an otherworldly glow. Its surface shimmered like the surface of a calm lake under the moonlight, and Myuk couldn¡¯t help but feel drawn to it. ¡°What is that?¡± Myuk asked, curiosity piquing his interest.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The lady¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°This is a crystal of potential. It will reveal your magical abilities, Myuk. Touch it and lets us see what gifts lie within you.¡± Myuk hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping into his mind. He had never considered himself unique, never believed he possessed any extraordinary talents. But the chance to prove himself, to finally be someone worth believing in, was too tempting to resist. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and reached out toward the crystal. The crystal felt strangely warm beneath his fingertips, starkly contrasting with the cool, damp air that clung to the dungeon¡¯s stone walls. The faint scent of earth and something ancient lingered in the air, adding to the moment''s weight. As his fingers brushed against its surface, a surge of energy coursed through him, and the crystal began to glow. At first, it was a brilliant white light, illuminating the entire chamber and casting flickering shadows on the walls. Myuk¡¯s heart raced with excitement; perhaps he was indeed remarkable. Maybe he was the hero Elandor needed. But as quickly as the light had burst forth, it dimmed, fading to a weak, dull purple hue. Myuk¡¯s heart sank. A heavy weight of disappointment replaced the vibrant energy that had filled him moments before. The lady¡¯s eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line as the crystal¡¯s light faded. Disappointment etched across her regal features, and for a brief moment, Myuk thought he saw a flicker of pity in her gaze before it hardened into cold disdain. ¡°We summoned someone useless!¡± she shouted, the words slicing through the air like a blade. Myuk felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath him. Useless. The word struck him like a physical blow, its sharp edges piercing through the fragile hope he had begun to nurture. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt small and insignificant. Memories of harsh words and cruel laughter from his past surged through his mind. ¡®You should just die,¡¯ the voices of his tormentors echoed, merging with the lady¡¯s declaration. Myuk clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as a familiar wave of despair washed over him. He wasn¡¯t unique. He wasn¡¯t the hero. He was just as worthless here as he had been back on Earth. The promise of a new life, of being someone different, crumbled around him. The shadows of his past, which had begun to lift, descended again, wrapping around him tightly. And in that moment, the weight of his worthlessness became unbearable. Weight of Hopelessness The air in the dungeon felt heavy, thick with the weight of expectation and despair. Myuk stood there, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across his face, his heart still racing from Lady Seraphine¡¯s earlier words. He could feel the tension in the room, a palpable energy that seemed to coil around him like a serpent, ready to strike. Lady Seraphine, her expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief, was struggling to rein in her emotions. ¡°Calm yourself, Lady Seraphine,¡± one of the knights said, his voice steady and authoritative. ¡°We must not act rashly. He may yet prove useful.¡± Myuk felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He had never been good at anything, and now, standing in front of these powerful figures, he felt even smaller. The weight of their expectations pressed down on him, and he could feel the sting of tears threatening to form. But he wouldn¡¯t let them fall. Not now. ¡°Perhaps we should assess his potential further,¡± suggested another knight, a burly man with a thick beard and a calm demeanor. ¡°Let him show us what he can do.¡± Myuk, feeling the need to prove himself, took a deep breath. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± he asked, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°I can show you my abilities if that will help.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Seraphine relented, her tone still laced with skepticism. ¡°Open your skill window, Myuk.¡± ¡°Skill window?¡± he echoed, confusion washing over him. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Just say ¡®Status,¡¯¡± one of the knights instructed, his expression softening. ¡°It will reveal your abilities.¡± Myuk nodded, steeling himself. He took a deep breath and said the word that felt foreign yet necessary. ¡°Status.¡± Instantly, a translucent screen appeared before him, shimmering with a faint blue light. Surprised, He blinked as he took in the information that floated in the air. Name: Myuk Level: 1 HP: 50/50 Mana: 30/30 Attack: 5 Defense: 4 Agility: 6 Mimicry (Lvl 1): Ability to imitate or replicate a trait, behavior, or characteristic of another being. (Skills Acquired: 0/3)If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The room fell silent as the knights and Seraphine leaned in to read the display. Myuk felt his heart drop as he watched their expressions shift from curiosity to disbelief and outright laughter. Seraphine threw her head back, her laughter ringing like a cruel bell through the dungeon. ¡°You have to be joking!¡± she exclaimed, clutching her face in disbelief. ¡°We waited years to summon a hero, and we got this pathetic excuse of a hero!¡± Myuk¡¯s stomach twisted into knots, the laughter echoing around him like a taunt. The warmth of hope that had ignited within him moments before was extinguished, leaving only a cold void. He felt he was shrinking, becoming invisible beneath the weight of their ridicule. ¡°Perhaps he can mimic the sound of our laughter as we throw him into the abyss,¡± Seraphine continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°What a grand talent!¡± ¡°Lady Seraphine, please,¡± the burly knight interjected, his voice firm yet gentle. ¡°We should not dismiss him so quickly. Every hero has to start somewhere; perhaps there is more to Myuk than meets the eye.¡± But Seraphine waved her hand dismissively, her patience wearing thin. ¡°Enough of this,¡± she said, her tone final. ¡°We have wasted enough time. Guards!¡± she called, her voice echoing against the stone walls. ¡°Take him to the abyss. He is of no use to us.¡± Myuk¡¯s heart sank further, a heavy stone lodged in his chest. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. ¡°I can learn! I can train! Just give me a chance!¡± Seraphine turned to him, her expression hardening. ¡°A chance? Do you think that you can become a hero just because you wish it? It takes more than wishful thinking, boy. It takes strength, skill, and destiny. You have none of those.¡± The guards, two towering figures clad in shining armor, stepped forward, their expressions impassive. Myuk¡¯s legs felt like lead as they approached, but before he could even think to resist, they grabbed him roughly by the arms. ¡°No, please!¡± Myuk cried out, but his voice was weak, swallowed by the echoing stone walls. The guards¡¯ grips were like iron, their hands clamping down on him with a force that made his bones ache. Without a word, they began dragging him across the cold, rough floor, his feet scraping uselessly against the stone as he struggled to keep up. The humiliation of being dragged like a piece of discarded trash tore at Myuk¡¯s already fragile spirit. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the panic rising within him. The dungeon¡¯s darkness stretched endlessly before him, a pit of despair threatening to consume him entirely. ¡°Please, don¡¯t do this!¡± he pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. ¡°I may not look like much now, but I can change! I can grow stronger! Just give me a chance to prove myself!¡± But his words fell on deaf ears. The guards remained silent, their expressions hard as they dragged him through the dungeon¡¯s winding corridors¡ªeach step they took felt like another nail in the coffin of Myuk¡¯s hope. As they pulled him deeper into the darkness, the cold stone floor scraping against his legs, Myuk¡¯s thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind of despair. The voices of his past, those who had taunted and belittled him, mingled with Seraphine¡¯s harsh words. ¡®Useless, worthless, a waste of space¡­¡¯ The words pounded in his mind like a relentless drum, drowning out any hope he had left. Finally, they reached the mouth of a dark, foreboding abyss. The guards roughly tossed Myuk inside, his body hitting the cold, hard ground with a thud. They slid a massive stone over the entrance without hesitation, sealing him inside. The grinding sound of the stone reverberated through the chamber, trapping him in a suffocating darkness with no escape. Myuk lay on the cold, unforgiving floor, his body aching from the rough handling, his spirit shattered. The abyss''s darkness closed in around him, suffocating in its intensity. As he curled into himself, trembling and alone, he felt the last remnants of hope drain from his body, leaving him hollow. At that moment, Myuk felt like he had been cast into a pit from which he would never escape¡ªa place where the word ¡®useless¡¯ would be his only companion. The Awakening of Power Myuk lay on the cold, hard ground of the abyssal dungeon, his heart pounding in his chest as the weight of despair settled over him like a suffocating blanket. The laughter of Lady Seraphine echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of his perceived inadequacies. No matter where he went, it seemed he would always be deemed useless, a mere shadow of the hero Elandor needed. Tears stung his eyes, and he felt utterly defeated, a small figure lost in the vastness of his failures. But then, something inside him stirred¡ªa flicker of defiance ignited by the rawness of his emotions. He refused to let this be the end. He had been given a chance, albeit a slim one, and he would not squander it. With a deep, shuddering breath, Myuk pushed himself off the ground, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill. He had to live. Rising to his feet, Myuk took a moment to gather his thoughts. The dungeon was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. The air was damp and musty, filled with the scent of mold and decay. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The path ahead was dark and foreboding, but it was also filled with the promise of discovery. He had to explore and understand the depths of this place that had been his prison. With cautious determination, Myuk started walking, his footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Each step felt like a small victory, a claim over his fate. He focused on the rhythm of his breath, the steady beat of his heart, and the ground beneath his feet. The dungeon''s darkness was still oppressive, but he felt a flicker of hope that perhaps he could find anything that would help him on his journey. As he ventured deeper into the dungeon, the ground beneath him began to tremble. It was a subtle vibration at first but quickly escalated into a violent shaking that stunted Myuk. Panic gripped him as he struggled to maintain his balance, the walls around him shuddering ominously. He could feel the dust falling from the ceiling, and the air grew thick with tension. ¡°What is happening?¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rumbling. Suddenly, the source of the disturbance revealed itself. Emerging from the shadows ahead was a hulking, grotesque creature, its form twisted and monstrous. Myuk¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight. The beast was massive, with matted fur and glistening fangs that dripped with a viscous substance. Its eyes glowed with a vicious hunger, and Myuk could feel its gaze boring into him, assessing him as prey. Above the creature¡¯s head, a name appeared in blood-red letters, striking terror into Myuk¡¯s heart: Gorehound. The level next to its name was ominously marked as ¡°???¡±¡ªindicating that it was far beyond anything he could hope to confront. Fear surged through him, a primal instinct screaming at him to run.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The Gorehound let out a loud roar that reverberated through the dungeon-like thunder, shaking Myuk to his core. It struck the ground with its massive paws, sending shockwaves nearly knocking him off his feet. Myuk barely managed to dodge the blow, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he realized the danger he was in. ¡°Run!¡± a voice in his mind urged him, and without thinking, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the corridor. Tears streamed down his face, a mixture of fear and despair blurring his vision. He was just a boy, a boy who had been deemed useless, and now he was faced with a monster that could easily end his life. As he ran, thoughts of his past flooded his mind¡ªmoments when he had been beaten down, told he was worthless, no matter how hard he tried. The Gorehound wasn¡¯t just a monster; it was the embodiment of everything he had ever feared and failed to overcome. But in the face of this terror, something inside him snapped. A burning need to survive began to smolder within him to prove that he wasn¡¯t as weak as they all believed. The pounding of the Gorehound¡¯s footsteps behind him was a relentless reminder that it was closing the gap. Myuk could hear its snarls, the sound of claws scraping against stone as it gained on him. His legs burned, and his breath came in ragged gasps, but he pushed on, driven by fear and newfound determination. Just as his lungs began to burn and his legs threatened to give out, a translucent window suddenly appeared before him as if conjured by some unseen force. Myuk skidded to a halt, his breath hitching in his throat as he read the words glowing softly before him. Copy Crushing Blow? For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating¡ªa cruel trick of his exhausted mind. But as the words shimmered insistently, hope, fragile and tentative, flickered to life within him. This was an opportunity¡ªperhaps the only opportunity he would get. He had nothing to lose; the Gorehound was closing in, and he needed a way to defend himself. The Gorehound¡¯s growls grew louder, the creature now almost upon him. Myuk could feel the heat of its breath, the oppressive presence that threatened to swallow him whole. He had no time to think, no time to second-guess. This was it¡ªhis only chance. With his heart pounding, Myuk clenched his fists and screamed, ¡°YES!¡± The word tore from his throat with a force he didn¡¯t know he possessed, a primal cry of desperation and defiance. As the word left his lips, a surge of energy, unlike anything he had ever felt, shot through his body, electrifying every nerve. The window disappeared, and instinctively, Myuk¡¯s hand clenched into a fist. The Gorehound was still a few feet away, its maw open wide, ready to tear him apart. With a surge of adrenaline, Myuk spun around, his fist glowing with a newfound power. He didn¡¯t know if it would work or be enough, but he had no choice. He threw the punch with everything he had, aiming straight for the monster¡¯s snarling face, and time seemed to slow as the fist collided with flesh¡­ The Breaking Point Myuk stood breathless, the remnants of his mana swirling inside him like a storm. The adrenaline that had surged through him moments ago began to ebb, leaving a raw vulnerability in its wake. He felt the cold stone of the dungeon floor beneath his palms, grounding him even as his heart raced with the echoes of fear. The Gorehound, a creature of nightmares, had been staggered by his attack, but now it loomed before him once more, unfazed and more terrifying than ever. Panic surged through Myuk as he watched the Gorehound rise from the ground, its massive form shaking off the remnants of the blow he had delivered. The creature¡¯s eyes glinted with hostility, and its jaws opened wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth glistening with saliva. Myuk¡¯s breath hitched in his throat, a primal instinct to flee clawing at his insides. He had managed to inflict some damage, but it was not enough. The Gorehound was still a beast of great strength, and he was just a boy who had stumbled into a world far beyond his comprehension. Myuk¡¯s legs felt weak beneath him, and he stumbled backward, his mind racing with thoughts of hopelessness. ¡°No, no, no¡­¡± he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips as he fell to his knees. The weight of despair settled over him once more, a crushing force that threatened to pull him under. He was supposed to be a hero, a savior, yet here he was, cowering before a monster. The Gorehound let out a loud roar that echoed through the dungeon, shaking the very stones around him. Myuk covered his ears, the sound reverberating in his skull like a war drum, each beat reminding him of his insignificance. He could feel the creature¡¯s fury, a palpable force that filled the air with dread. As the Gorehound shook off his attack, a cold dread washed over Myuk. His fists, which had moments ago felt powerful, now trembled with the realization of his inadequacy. The monster before him was a mirror to his fears¡ªa reflection of every moment he had been powerless and deemed worthless. The same sense of failure that had haunted him in his old world now threatened to crush him here. Just as he thought all hope was lost, a figure burst into the fray. A warrior clad in gleaming armor that caught the dim light of the torches flew into the chamber with a grace that belied his size. Myuk¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief as the warrior swung his sword with a fluid motion, a glint of steel slicing through the air. The blade met the Gorehound with a resounding clash, and in an instant, the creature¡¯s head was severed from its body, the grotesque form collapsing to the ground in a heap.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Myuk stared in awe and relief, his heart pounding in his chest as the warrior stood before him, a towering figure of strength and bravery. The creature¡¯s body lay still, the threat extinguished, and for the first time since he had awoken in the dungeon, Myuk felt a flicker of hope. He was not alone. Someone had come to save him. ¡°Are you alright?¡± the warrior asked, his voice deep and commanding. Myuk nodded slowly, still trying to process the whirlwind of events. He pushed himself up from the ground, feeling the cool stone beneath his palms as he regained his footing. ¡°Who are you?¡± Myuk managed to ask, his voice trembling with gratitude and awe. As the warrior turned to face him, Myuk felt an inexplicable chill. There was something in the man¡¯s eyes¡ªan unsettling glint that didn¡¯t match the heroic image Myuk had conjured. The way the warrior¡¯s gaze lingered on him as if assessing more than just his well-being made Myuk¡¯s skin crawl. The relief he had felt moments ago began to waver, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. The warrior stepped closer, a sinister smile creeping across his face, sending a chill down Myuk¡¯s spine. ¡°I¡¯m just a passerby, a humble warrior who happened to be in the right place at the right time,¡± he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. Myuk¡¯s heart sank as the unease solidified into gnawing fear. The glint in the warrior¡¯s eyes and his smile, which didn¡¯t reach them, all pointed to something dark, something dangerous. ¡°Why did you save me?¡± Myuk asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The warrior¡¯s smile widened as he leaned down to Myuk¡¯s level, his breath hot against Myuk¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, I saved you just to kill you myself,¡± he said, the words laced with cruel humor that made Myuk¡¯s stomach churn. Before he could react, the warrior kicked him hard in the stomach, a brutal blow that sent Myuk flying against the wall. Pain exploded through his body, and he gasped for breath as he slumped to the ground, the world around him spinning. The pain from the warrior¡¯s kick radiated through Myuk¡¯s body, but it was nothing compared to the shattering of his final hope. As he crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath, something inside him broke¡ªsomething fragile that had held onto the belief that he could still be saved, that there was good in this world. The Shattered Mirror Myuk lay on the cold, unforgiving stone floor, the remnants of pain still coursing through his body like a dark tide. The dungeon had faded away, and instead, he found himself submerged in a surreal landscape¡ªa realm that felt both familiar and hauntingly distant. Shadows twisted and flickered around him, distorting his vision until the world became a kaleidoscope of memories. As he struggled to rise, a figure appeared beside him, kneeling with an intensity that made his heart race. It was a younger version of himself, a boy with wide, innocent eyes that mirrored his own but lacked the weight of despair that now clung to Myuk¡¯s soul. This younger Myuk had a fierce determination etched into his features, a spark of defiance that felt foreign yet achingly familiar. ¡°It never ends, does it?¡± the young Myuk said, his voice a mixture of bitterness and resolve. ¡°The continuous cycle of being picked on and called useless. Don¡¯t you get tired of it?¡± With a sudden, fierce grip, the younger Myuk grabbed his older self by the hair, forcing him to look up. Myuk winced at the pain, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that surged within him. As he gazed into the eyes of his younger self, he felt a wave of memories crash over him, vivid and unrelenting. Images flickered into existence around them¡ªscenes from his past that played like a broken film reel. He saw himself as a child, cowering beneath the fists of his stepfather, the man who was supposed to protect him but instead wielded his power like a weapon. Each strike was a reminder of his worthlessness, a hammer driving home the message that he would never be enough. Then the scene shifted, and he was back in school, surrounded by bullies who reveled in his humiliation. Laughter rang in his ears, cruel and mocking, as they shoved him into lockers and whispered taunts that echoed in the hollow chambers of his mind. ¡°Useless,¡± they had called him, ¡°worthless.¡± Each word was a dagger, piercing through the fragile armor he had tried to build around his heart.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The younger Myuk¡¯s grip tightened, and his voice turned more accusatory. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you fight back? Why did you let them walk all over you? You¡¯re stronger than this¡ªstronger than them. But all you do is cower and take it, like you deserve it. Do you? Do you deserve all of this?¡± Myuk¡¯s heart sank as the memories of his past played out in front of him. He saw himself, older but still a child at heart, with an expression twisted in rage, whispering dark promises to himself. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for treating me like this.¡± The words echoed, a chilling mantra that reverberated through the air. The images around him began to speed up, flashing by like a violent storm of memories. Each scene was more vivid than the last¡ªhis stepfather¡¯s sneer, the cruel laughter of the bullies, the cold emptiness that followed each humiliation. The scenes twisted and contorted, becoming grotesque reflections of his pain, until Myuk felt like he was drowning in a sea of despair. Myuk¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the images of his past swirled around him like vultures circling a dying animal. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t deserve it,¡± he whispered, the words trembling on his lips. But as he repeated them, they grew stronger. ¡°I didn¡¯t deserve it! I don¡¯t deserve this!¡± His voice rose to a shout, raw with anger and pain, echoing through the twisted landscape of his mind. The younger Myuk¡¯s grip loosened as a dark smile curled his lips. ¡°Then stop acting like you do,¡± he whispered. ¡°Stop letting them hurt you. Stop being weak.¡± The words hung in the air, heavy with promise, as the shadows around them seemed to grow darker, denser. Myuk looked into the eyes of his younger self and saw the reflection of something new¡ªsomething dangerous. He nodded slowly, the weight of his past lifting, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. ¡°I¡¯ll never be weak again,¡± he whispered. ¡°Never.¡± As Myuk stared into the eyes of his younger self, he realized that the boy he once was¡ªthe innocent, timid child who clung to hope despite the darkness¡ªwas gone. In his place stood someone else, someone forged from pain and bitterness. The spark of innocence that once lit up his eyes had been snuffed out, replaced by a cold, unyielding resolve. The last vestiges of who he had been were slipping away, and with them, any desire to be the hero this world had wanted. The younger Myuk smiled one last time before dissolving into the shadows, leaving the older Myuk standing alone, a new fire burning in his heart¡ªa fire that would consume everything in its path. The Awakening Myuk pushed himself off the cold stone floor, the chill biting at his skin as he steadied himself. The warrior walked toward him, a predatory grin stretching across his face, but Myuk felt different¡ªtransformed. His hair fell over his eyes, casting a shadow that concealed the fire ignited within him. The echoes of his past had melded with his present, forging a new resolve that pulsed through his veins like electricity. As he focused, a translucent screen flickered into existence before him, glowing with ethereal light. The warrior, sensing the shift in the air, charged forward with a wild laugh that reverberated through the dungeon. ¡°Hurry up and die, you bug!¡± Myuk¡¯s heart beat steadily as he prepared himself. He felt the weight of every moment that had led him to this point¡ªevery bruise, every insult, every tear shed in silence. He whispered softly, ¡°Accept,¡± and in that instant, he vanished. The world around him blurred, and he reappeared behind the warrior, who was caught off guard. As Myuk materialized, it felt as if time itself had bent to his will, allowing him to slip between the folds of reality. The sensation was exhilarating¡ªa rush of power that sent a shiver down his spine. He reached out, his fist hovering just above the warrior¡¯s back, and with calm determination, he proclaimed, ¡°Crushing Blow.¡± In that moment, his fist ignited with a brilliant purple light, radiating a raw energy that felt almost sentient. The impact was instantaneous, a collision of power that sent shockwaves through the air. The warrior¡¯s wild grin faltered, his eyes widening in shock as Myuk¡¯s fist drove into his back with the force of a hurricane. The warrior was propelled forward, his body flying through the dungeon like a ragdoll, crashing against the cold stone wall with a sickening thud. Myuk stood there, breathless, as he watched the warrior crumple to the ground, lifeless. The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. Myuk felt an unsettling emptiness. He had taken a life, and yet the weight of it did not crush him as he had expected. Instead, it felt like a release¡ªa breaking of chains that had bound him for far too long.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As he turned away from the lifeless corpse, a flurry of translucent screens erupted around him, each one announcing his victory in a chorus of bright letters. ¡°Level Up!¡± flashed repeatedly, each notification a reminder of his growth, of the power he had unlocked within himself. He felt the energy surging through him, a palpable force that promised even greater strength and abilities. The power coursed through his veins, hot and untamed, as if his very blood had been replaced by raw energy. It was intoxicating, a heady rush that drowned out the echoes of his past pain. For the first time, he felt in control¡ªstrong, unstoppable. The fear that had once gripped him was gone, replaced by a cold, steely resolve. As the final screen flickered and disappeared, Myuk looked down at his hands, still crackling with the remnants of energy. This was only the beginning. The power he had tasted tonight was a mere shadow of what he could achieve¡ªand he would stop at nothing to claim it all. The path ahead was clear, and he was ready to walk it, no matter the cost. With a thought, Myuk summoned his status screen, eager to see the results of his victory. The translucent screen appeared before him, glowing softly in the dim light of the dungeon. Status Window: Name: Myuk Level: 5 HP: 250/250 Mana: 150/150 Attack: 25 Defense: 20 Agility: 35 Skills: ? Mimicry (Lv. 1) Ability to imitate or replicate a trait, behavior, or characteristic of another being. (Skills Acquired: 2/3) ? Crushing Blow: A powerful punch that channels immense strength into a single, devastating attack. ? Flash Step: Allows the user to instantly move to a nearby location, almost as if slipping between the folds of reality. Myuk¡¯s eyes lingered on his new stats and skills, a satisfied smirk creeping across his face. The journey had just begun, and with every step, he was becoming something more¡ªsomething greater. He closed the screen and turned toward the shadows, ready to embrace the path that lay ahead.