In a quiet room, you can hear the pin drop, a boy with beauty that is hard to achieve lies on the bed.
The boy's name is Elia Veyne. A PhD student in the Department of Psychology. Slowly, the boy woke up, but he didn't open his eyes immediately.
Elias Veyne's first sensation wasn't light, sound, or scent.
It was stillness.
A stillness so perfect it seemed unnatural—like a moment frozen in time. It hung in the air, fragile and expectant, like the breath held before a conductor's baton falls.
Elias gradually opened his eyes.
Neither startled nor scared, his mind remained calm. He awakened, like a machine powering up. His gaze traveled across the wooden beams overhead, down to the warm amber walls, rustic furnishings, and soft lamp light. He found himself on a firm bed in a cottage reminiscent of a child's fairytale, seemingly too perfect to exist.
But he instinctively recognized: it wasn't real.
This was an artificial environment.
Bookshelves adorned the walls, filled with ancient tomes absent of titles. A kettle simmered on a stove that remained unlit. The air carried a faint hint of pine, cinnamon, and a sterile quality, like the scent of ozone following a lightning strike.
The room radiated warmth. However, for Elias Veyne, warmth signified merely another data point.
He sat up smoothly, his feet making contact with the wooden floor. No sound accompanied his movement. No echo. He noticed the absence of doors and windows, of outside noise. It felt as if he were inside a painting still in progress.
"This isn't a dream," Elias deduced. "Nor is it death. Could it be a cognitive simulation? A virtual field?"
Emotion didn't break through, only analysis.
Elias was a sociopath.
Not in the exaggerated, villainous way, but in a quiet, clinical manner. He studied empathy as if it were a foreign language, not one he practiced. People intrigued him, as he couldn't truly understand their emotions. His goal was to understand human behavior like a scientist studying fire, but without experiencing the burn.
And then something happened.
A ripple in the air. Just above the fireplace, motes of light began swirling, pixelating into a form.
A floating interface screen assembled in glowing layers, accompanied by shimmering particles.
Then, a voice emerged.
[Welcome, Elias Veyne. You have been chosen as the Anchor Host of the Avatar Deployment System.]
After a slight pause, the screen revealed a simple grid with empty slots, glowing faintly.
[Here are the System Functions:
Create up to 22 Avatars.
Each avatar embodies a unique Beyonder Pathway.
Avatars are deployed into the foreign world of Re: Zero - Starting Life in Another World.
Their experiences will be streamed to this space.
The Host can interact with the foreign world through the Avatars.
Avatar memory synchronizes with your own, but they have their own emotions (which the Host doesn't have).
However, they will act according to the setting you set up. (The Host can think of them as your descendants.)
The Avatar will retain memories despite foreign timeline resets.]
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"Re: Zero."
A name surfaced from a dusty corner of his memory.
A Japanese anime known for dark themes and intense emotional turmoil. The protagonist suffers continuous deaths, returning to a certain point each time, exposing humans' raw emotions, trauma, and the personal growth of a teenager's mentality.
'An ideal subject for observation.' Elias thought.
[Initial Authorization Level: E.
1 Avatar Slot is immediately available.
All other Avatar Slots require Emotional Points (EP) to unlock.
{EP} is earned through the reputation gained by the deployed avatar's actions. Named characters will have more {EP} to earn.]
"Interesting mechanic," Elias remarked.
The screen shimmered. A card of 22 pathways briefly spiraled into view, each represented by a unique symbol flickering with unknown energy. One symbol pulsed gently, indicating its availability.
The cards of pathways spiraled across the screen, mysterious symbols burning into his memory, and Elias squinted.
"Beyonder?" he echoed thoughtfully.
He approached the interface, his voice quiet and contemplative. "Lord of the Mysteries... Klein Moretti?"
A chime resonated through the room.
[Affirmative]. The system confirmed.
[The beyonder pathways are drawn from the framework of the Lord of the Mysteries universe. Each represents a Sequence, ranging from 9 to 0. They can become Gods only if they succeed in resisting the madness.]
Elias crossed his arms, his gaze sharpening.
As if aware of the host's thoughts, the system added.
[The Host will never be harmed by them; they will be loyal to you, as either Master or Father.]
"Hmph, boring. Then there will be rituals, potions, mental strain, where are they from? The Lord of Mysteries?" he mused.
Another screen appeared, displaying a flickering status bar.
[Sanity Sync: Stable]
[Host Immune to Whispers — Source: Internalized Cognitive System Structure]
[The whispers exist.] The system stated, [But they do not originate from a foreign god or hidden entity. They arise from you, Elias Veyne.]
Elias hid his amusement behind a stoic exterior.
"Even if they are from me… power should come at a cost," he insisted, his voice cold and logical.
The system pulsed softly in affirmation.
[Your Avatars understand. They awaken with the same constraints as any genuine Beyonder. They must search for ingredients, perform rituals, survive their Pathway, and bear the cost of every Sequence they claim.]
"Good," Elias murmured. "Let them endure."
His tone didn't convey cruelty. It was clinical. Growth through pressure, like transforming coal into diamond.
He turned back to the card. One symbol shone brighter than the others.
[Available Slot: Pathway – Sun. Sequence 9: Bard.]
"Very well," he decided. "Let's see if charisma and radiance can purify the decay in this world."
[What would the Host name the Avatar?] the system prompted.
"Lucien."
[Acknowledged. Avatar Lucien was created. Deployment in 3… 2… 1…