My Free Will System: Transmigrating Into My Favorite Immersion Game

Chapter 3: 3 : The Farmhouse



Raphael found himself free falling through the endless darkness, his attempts at screaming for his life were rendered useless as not a single sound escaped his lips. He was devoid of all feelings, he wasn't alive or dead, he was just a being having no tangible state.

Raphael thought to himself if it was possible to die twice because as crazy as it may sound, that was the only rational explanation; he was dying.

After a not-so-thorough pondering, he came to the conclusion that he had no choice but to once again accept his fate.

Suddenly a red streak of light crossed his line of sight, illuminating the darkness ever so slightly, it blitzed to and fro as if it was in search of something.

Raphael tried to call out to the light but inevitably failed, and then the light turned toward Raphael, locking onto him like a homing missile.

The red light began zooming toward Raphael, leaving a red trail in its wake. When the red light showed no sign of slowing down or stopping, Raphael began to panic as he tried to move his non-existent body out of harm's way, but his effort was fruitless as the red light collided head-on with him and Raphael immediately lost consciousness.

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Raphael's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the small, grimy window of the alien room he found himself in.

The first sensation that struck him was the chill in the air, the cold seeping through the thin, woolen blanket covering him. He shivered, pulling the blanket closer around his slender frame.

His white hair, almost glowing in the muted morning light, contrasted sharply with the rough, dark wood of the cot he lay on.

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Each strand seemed to catch the weak rays, casting a halo around his head. Raphael sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his pale, calloused hands.

Raphael's head throbbed, it was as if a truck had run over his head over and over. He rubbed his temple with his fingers, trying to at least reduce the strain of his headache.

After a few seconds of rubbing, he felt a little relieved. It was only then he noticed the strange surroundings he woke up in, as strange as the place felt, he couldn't help but feel like he had been there before, and not just one time; a feeling of familiarity.

The strange room was small and sparsely furnished; a rough-hewn wooden table stood against one wall, bearing the weight of a few clay pots and a solitary candle, now a mere stub in a pool of hardened wax.

He swung his legs over the side of the cot, his feet meeting the cold, earthen floor with a soft thud. The room smelled of damp earth and hay, with a faint, lingering aroma of last night's stew. His stomach growled at the memory of the scant meal he never had.

He could hear the soft clucking of chickens outside and the distant lowing of cattle, signaling the start of another long day.

Raphael dressed quickly, pulling on a coarse linen shirt and trousers, both worn and patched in multiple places that he found folded beside his bed. He moved to the window, pushing it open to let in the crisp morning air and that was when realization hit him.

Before him, a farm stretched out, a patchwork of fields and pastures, bordered by dense, ancient woods. The sky above was a pale, washed-out blue, the sun had just begun to rise over the horizon.

"This… Arcane Days?" He muttered in awe " Arcane Days!! This is the beginner spawn point of Arcane Days; the farmhouse"

Raphael took a step back, turned around, and looked at the entire room once more. That was why everything felt so familiar to him, he had spent hours on end playing and replaying Arcane Days, inevitably passing the beginner spawn point each time.

The room itself was a humble structure, its walls made of rough timber and stone, the roof thatched with straw. Inside, the walls were lined with shelves holding various jars and tools, each one a required necessity to keep the farm running.

He couldn't believe what was happening to him, he pinched and slapped himself multiple times till his face turned red in other to wake himself up if he was dreaming, but what Raphael was experiencing was every bit as real as his previous life.

He looked outside the window once more, "Did that so-called Goddess of Fate really send me into Arcane Days?" He pondered but gave up after nothing more than a minute

"Wait if I am in AD, then does that mean…no way. It's not possible" He pulled out a few strands of his hair and inspected it, "White…" He muttered under his breath

"Does that mean…I am now ...Elias Ashdown," He paused for a while, a wistful look on his face as memories of his past life flashed through his mind.

After his parents died there wasn't much to reminisce about, "It's my gain anyway, I am in Arcane freaking Days for crying out loud. This might as well be heaven!!" Raphael screamed out

"Elias! If you're awake, stop making a noise and go do your chores. The sun's not waiting, and neither will the cows!!" a warm, yet authoritative feminine voice barged into Elias' room

Raphael jumped in reflex, startled by the voice and then he remembered that in the game, Elias was not living alone at the beginning. He still stayed with his family for the time being.

"Oh…Crap," Raphael muttered. He could hear the muffled voices of his family stirring in the adjacent rooms, preparing for the day ahead.

He sluggishly pushed the door open, making his way into the sitting room, a humble space, furnished with a sturdy oak table surrounded by mismatched stools and chairs, each bearing the scars of years of use.

A tattered tapestry adorned one wall, depicting scenes of mythical beasts and heroic battles, its colors faded with time. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke and the faint aroma of stew simmering in a pot suspended above the flames.

Around the table sat a middle-aged man, and a little dark-haired girl and stirring the stew in the pot was a woman who looked younger than the middle-aged man but still quite mature.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still for Raphael as he drank in the sight of them, unable to believe they were real. He reached out a trembling hand, expecting them to vanish like wisps of smoke, but they remained solid and tangible as if they had never left his side

Emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he sank to his knees before them, tears streaming down his cheeks in silence.

"Mom…Dad…Penelope…" He called out softly, his voice trembling and breaking in the process. The people who were in front of him were none other than his deceased family…at least they looked exactly like them.


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