You're lying in your dimly lit room. Old porn magazines cover the broken floor, your last defense against the creeping rot. The air tastes damp and sour. Even so, your eyes, drained of light, keep searching for a way out.
Am I going to die? The thought slips through your mind. A chill runs up your spine, sharp enough that fear alone could have given you a heart attack. Your chest feels tight, not pain yet, but a pressure that makes it harder to breathe.
In that moment, you remember why you're in this situation. Your palm can still feel the exhausted, hot flesh it was wrapped around. Today was the day the internet's world record for the most times masturbating in a single day was broken by none other than you, barely twenty-five years old loner.
A cry for help tries to escape your dry throat, but exhaustion has already caught you. Your eyes that were once full of life now struggle against the closing darkness. You sigh deeply, a small smile lifting your shriveled lips.
At least I did it, forty times… The last twenty were barely anything, just air, but you still hold the record. Your heart stutters through those final beats as your mind clings to the achievement, and the darkness slowly consumes your body as it lies in the pool of your own mess.
Your chest tightens again, harder this time, like the air has turned thick inside your lungs. You try to inhale, but it comes in shallow and wrong. The smile on your lips fades without you noticing.
Your heartbeat skips once. Then again. Wait… The room blurs around the edges, and the cold crawling up your spine finally claims what it came for.
[Milestone achieved]
[Extraordinary talent detected]
The silence breaks with a robotic female voice. You don't panic, even if you have no idea what's happening. You try to open your lead-heavy eyelids, but there's no energy left in a dead body anymore.
A sudden flash twists the light around you, drenching the walls in pure gold and azure brilliance. A crimson sandal lands calmly beside your ear with a muted thud.
"What the fuck… so disgusting." It's the same voice again, but the robotic echo is gone. A woman stands ankle-deep in the mess you left behind. She lifts her foot and shakes off the sticky remains. Her eyes scan the room, then lock onto you.
"John Walkman, aged twenty-five. Cause of death—overstimulation." Sapphire eyes slide to your spent member. "What a waste…" Her sigh makes it feel like she's looking down on you. If you could, you'd slap her for stepping on your hard-earned achievement, but your cooling body refuses to lend you a hand.
Her light steps drift around the room, exploring your hidden stash of porn DVDs from the 2000s that you'd guarded like treasure. Her soft fingers slide an old disc into the DVD player, and the screen blooms with skin and sound, filling the room with moans and a sinful heat that would get you judged in church.
"People of this world are…" Her soft voice pauses, eyes fixed on the naked thighs pressing against the man's hips. "That rhythm is skilled… I'm in the right place. People of this world are the only ones who can save my creation."
Her gaze returns to your cold body once more. "Sadly, this one is dead, but the system still chose him… what should I do?"
The last threads of your consciousness want to scream that you're still alive, or at least you want to believe it. The cold truth is that your body will never wake up again, and the only thing keeping you from slipping away is the mysterious system the woman mentioned.
Finally, after a long stretch of loud moans from the TV, her finger lights up in golden brilliance, and that glow coils around your chest like a warm band.
"Listen up. I know you can hear me." The commanding, robotic echo returns to her voice once more. "You will be transmigrated to my world, where you'll take over the body of a dead soldier. Don't be sad, that body is in perfect condition, and it has a far bigger weapon. Ahem…"
The moment her words brush your fading consciousness, an invisible tug yanks the world into a spin. The darkness that clung to you like an old friend tears away, replaced by a blazing swirl of color, and you're shooting through it like a body flung down a waterpark slide, too fast to breathe, too bright to think.
A single thought cuts through your chaotic consciousness: I'm not ready to die yet. Despite what the mysterious woman told you, the reality is too hard to believe in the moment.
Just when it seems like it's about to end, a flash of light snatches you and yanks so hard it feels like you're falling from the sky.
"Haaa!" Your lungs drag in a deep breath of cold air. The eyes that were never meant to open again snap wide, meeting a world of crimson rivers and mountains. Only after a careful look do you understand it isn't nature at all. It's layers upon layers of corpses, blood running in streams like a flood.
"Shit! What the hell!?" Your arms and legs shove you back in panicked jolts, the sudden sight of death making you wonder if you've landed in hell for all your sins. Yet the pain ripping through your left shoulder proves that this body is still alive.
"Rookie, are you okay?!" A young woman's voice cuts through your panic. A soft hand grabs your shoulder and hauls you up. Your heavy breathing makes you dizzy. Maybe that's why, when you turn your head and meet the crimson eyes of a stranger who looks like she's in her late teens, you swear you can see a halo above her head.
"I… I…" A sudden spike of pain rips through your temples, almost knocking you unconscious.
[Welcome to the world of Lumina]
A robotic voice you swear you've heard before speaks directly into your mind.
[Your new name in this world is Nox]
[This body houses the power of magic. Use it wisely. For any questions, refer to the system screen before you. Save my dying world, user. Repopulate it. Kill the enemies, and you will be rewarded with immortal life, and the powers of a true god.]