It sucks being the replacement Hero [TERA Online SI]

[Stimpak Medic]

Prologue: My worst day ever

"No! No! No! Send me back! Please send me back now! I don't want this!" My panicked, terrified voice resonates through the small apartment as I kneel near the small wooden window looking out over a view that I was more than familiar with. My broad hands grasp the sides of my head as I rock back and forth.

"Please, someone. Mystel! Velik, anyone, send me back!" I shout as tears run down my face.

A giant wheel, far larger than even a skyscraper, slowly turns in the middle of the city, dwarfing anything else in the city by a country mile. Even I can see it from the cheap apartment I find myself in. This only means one thing.

I am in the world of an MMORPGG that I used to play, TERA Online, and in the city of Velika, and this is my new life.

What is Velika, you might ask? Well, it is the main hub for the Valkyon Federation and the largest city on the continent of Shara. All of the allied races have gathered here: Elves, Humans, Elin, Popori, Castanic, and Baraka all to protect the peace that once was. The city, sprawling and vast beyond measure, has many sights to see, but the crown jewel of the Federation is the white tower where the Goddess of the Hunt Velik lives and looks over the city, giving her protection to all who are good and well-meaning.

I loved Tera. The game was great! The combat was fun. Heck, I even loved the gathering and crafting, but not once, not one single time would I have wanted to live in that world. It was a world of conflict and bloodshed at every corner, full of monsters, ghosts, and warring Gods that could at any time throw the world into eternal darkness. It had happened before, and this brief peace was only won due to the wars between the Gods and the Giants, however short-lived it was.

However, I knew the future...To an extent. However, the game shut down long before the storyline was finished.

It ended with the destruction of Exodor and the reopening of the long-lost city of Baldera. Stories for another time, though. Right now, I need to gather my composure.

I take a deep breath. I swallow my tears and shut my eyes. My heart beats violently in my chest, crashing against the cage of my ribs. I almost had a heart attack, and there is little good that that would do anybody.

The light of the window washes over my face, as well as a soft breeze washing the scents of chimney smoke and molten metals across my face. It seems that I'm near the creation workshop sector of the city. Not close enough to hear the constant clanging and tinkering, or the sounds of the many pipes, but I am close enough for the smells to waft over.

It seems to be mid-morning, and I've calmed down somewhat. I'm still shaken and horrified, but I've realized crying and panicking will get me nowhere. I rise on shaky legs and look around the apartment.

It's small. If not for the somewhat sturdy bed with its semisoft mattress, I would have little room for anything other than the desk, dresser, table, two chairs, and small bathroom. It is obvious that whoever owned this apartment before I arrived was neither affluent nor destitute, somewhere in the poor range.

A small leatherbound book sits atop the desk, and several charcoal pencils sit next to it.
I walk over to it and open the first page.

It's a diary.

It went over the problems from Stepstone Island. The children. Samael. The Argon attack. Anya sacrifices herself for the Hero. Joining the Federation. Dougal's help. All to the story. Then it became strange.

"I'm being followed."

Those words sent a chill down my spine. I knew what that meant. It could only be one person who could send someone to follow the soon-to-be Hero.

Justiciar Commander Samael.

It looks like in this timeline, Samael wished to tie up loose ends and take out the Hero before he could grow.

Everything was spiraling out of control.

I read further, fascinated by what was happening.

The Hero continued writing.

For the next week before deployment, he found himself constantly watched and monitored. And then, he found his deployment delayed. Supposedly, deployment to Crescentia had been halted, and Lumbertown didn't need reinforcements.

That was a lie.

The messenger sent to report that to him was one of the Justiciars in the garb of a Federation messenger. Of course, he had no clue about this, but I did.

Two weeks later, he was called in to report on why he skipped out on his deployment. He had explained what had happened to the Federation Officer, but the officer said there was no record of such a command. Put on leave for three weeks, he found the people trailing him became bolder and bolder, until they weren't even hiding it.

The last page simply said, "I think I've been poisoned. I'm not feeling so good. Please, whoever reads this, stop the traitor to the Federation, and save us from the Argons."

It explained underneath that that was when they got him. In a small restaurant, while he was eating some soup with a cup of wine, one of the men trailing him stormed in and caused a fuss, demanding he come out and fight him. Good-natured as he was, he left his food and wine unattended as he went out and got into a scuffle with the man. At that time, another man slipped in and poisoned his drink and soup.

So when he made it home, he likely had died where he slept, knowing he had been poisoned, but unable to save himself.

So ended the tragic tale of a man who once might have been the Hero of Velika. The man who would have once confronted Gods, saved the Fairies in the mystical forests, stopped world-ending prophecies, met the Goddess of fate and time herself, and much, much more.

Now only I remain to tell his tale, a normal young American man from the modern world, and I must carry his torch, for no one else will.

For no one else could.

 

[Lillie Jones]

watching
Continue on
Cheers!