Ramiel opened his eyes inside his inventory.
The house was small. Made of wood. A single room with light-colored walls and a pitched roof. The floor was made of worn but sturdy planks. There was a window that looked out onto a blurry landscape, as if the outside world hadn't finished loading yet.
And it was empty.
Completely empty.
There was no furniture, no shelves, no bed. Only space. Silence. And a faint light coming through the formless window.
Ramiel turned around. His footsteps sounded hollow on the wood.
"Is this it?"
"Welcome to your personal inventory, user."
The voice came from inside his head. Feminine. Cold. Every word measured with millimetric precision.
Ramiel spun around. There was no one.
"Administrator? Are you... the world?"
"No. I am an interface. A system voice. I am in all helmets, all users. I don't interact with anyone. I only inform when necessary. I speak when I must. Then, I fall silent."
"Why are you speaking now?"
"Because you are new. Newcomers need to know the rules. After this, you won't hear me again unless it's strictly necessary."
Ramiel nodded. The voice continued.
"Listen carefully. Your life in Sword Soul depends on these rules."
"Rule one: LIVES. Humans have 10 lives in this world. Each time you die without using a red potion, you lose one. Upon reaching 0, the system expels you. You cannot return. If you try to reconnect with another helmet or another account, you will not enter Sword Soul. You will enter the White World."
Ramiel swallowed. Ten.
"Rule two: CREATURES. You can tame wild creatures. You will have to earn their trust. Loyalty is not bought. It is earned. Each creature has 5 lives. If they die 5 times, they disappear forever. There is no White World for them. Only oblivion."
"They just... disappear? Just like that?"
"Just like that. Take care of them."
"Rule three: MOSTAÑAS. It is the world where your creatures live when they are not with you. There they rest, play, wait. From your cottage you can see a window to Mostañas. Not everyone can do this. You can."
Ramiel frowned.
"Why me?"
"Do not ask why. I don't know. I only execute."
"Rule four: LEVELS. You can level up to 99. But level 99 does not make you powerful. It only gives you access. Access to harder missions, to more dangerous zones, to better rewards. True strength is gained through experience, through training, through sacrifice."
"Rule five: DUNGEONS. There are thousands. Of all sizes. You will find chests after defeating creatures. The objects from those chests can be taken to the real world. Gold, gems, energy crystals. One crystal can power your home for a month."
Ramiel's fingers curled into his palm. One month of light. For his mother. For Lomi.
"Rule six: HUNGER. In Sword Soul, you also eat. If you don't feed your digital body, you weaken. If you starve to death, you lose a life. So work, earn, and eat."
"Rule seven: THE WORLD SHOP. It exists. It is the only place where you can buy objects, armor, and creatures with gold. But prices are high. Very high. The cheapest armor costs 100,000 gold. A normal mission gives you 1,000 or 2,000. Do the math."
Ramiel calculated. Fifty missions. For the most basic armor.
"And the last one: DEATH. Do not fear dying. Fear reaching 0. Because then... there is no turning back. With zero lives, you never return to Sword Soul."
Silence.
The voice waited. Ramiel did too.
"Is that all?"
"That is all. Now, user, I leave you. The world is yours. Survive."
The voice faded.
Ramiel clenched his fists. He looked at the empty cottage. The wooden walls. The blurry window.
"I will survive," he said out loud.
He walked out.
—
Outside, the landscape was beautiful. Blue sky, green grass, mountains in the distance. The wind moved the blades with a soft whisper, like a caress.
In the inventory, he found another door. He opened it. And there was a world of portals.
"This is the world of portals. Everyone has one. It gives you access to many places in Sword Soul. Well, almost everywhere, or at least gets you closer," the server said.
"It's enormous."
Dozens. Hundreds. Floating in the air like shining cracks in reality. Each one had a different color. Some were small like doors, others huge like buildings. Some were close, others so far away they were barely distinguishable.
And they all hummed. A low, constant hum, as if behind each portal there was a living world breathing.
Ramiel walked among them. He passed by a red portal from which dry heat emanated. Next to a blue one that smelled of salt. Next to a black one that emitted nothing. No sound. No smell. No light.
That one, he decided, would be the last one he'd approach.
He looked for the portal that didn't seem like a dungeon. It had a soft golden color and was marked with a symbol resembling scales.
THE WORLD SHOP.
He entered.
—
The hall was gigantic. So much so that the ceiling disappeared into darkness. The walls, made of polished stone, gleamed with golden veins. But there were no torches. The light came from floating crystals, hundreds of them, moving slowly like fish in an aquarium.
The floor was white marble. Each of Ramiel's footsteps echoed, multiplied by the reverberation.
And in the center, endless counters. Behind them, mechanical beings.
They weren't human. They had metallic forms, some with humanoid features, others with multiple arms, others with screen-faces where numbers constantly changed. Their movements were precise, surgical, like walking clocks.
Ramiel approached one. Its face was a smooth screen. It displayed a neutral emoticon. : |
"Welcome, player. What would you like to purchase?"
In front of him, a floating interface unfolded. Categories: ARMOR, WEAPONS, POTIONS, CREATURES, MATERIALS, SPECIAL ITEMS.
Ramiel touched ARMOR.
The list was endless. Page after page. From basic level 1 clothes to armors that seemed made of pure light. He saw categories he didn't understand: S, SS, SSS.
"What are those? S, SS..."
"Superior classes. Only accessible to level 99 users. Level 99 is not an end. It is a door. Behind that door, there is real power."
Ramiel looked at the prices. The cheapest armor, a simple level 1 leather tunic, cost 100,000 gold.
"Is this a joke?"
"No, customer. Gold is obtained in dungeons. A normal mission grants between 1,000 and 2,000. If you do fifty missions, you can buy this tunic."
Fifty.
Ramiel closed the interface. He tried CREATURES.
The interface showed floating images. Wolves, spiders, bulls, snakes, birds, and then more imposing creatures: dragons, golems, yetis, shadow beasts. Each one rotated in the air, showing its statistics.
A level 1 wolf: 50,000.
A level 1 spider: 40,000.
A dragon: millions.
Ramiel let out the air slowly.
"And if I buy one? Does it appear right here?"
"Upon purchase, the creature appears before you. Level 1. Docile. Ready to be trained."
He closed the interface.
He left the shop without looking back. He had nothing. Zero gold. Zero items. Zero possibilities.
But the hum of the portals called to him.
—
Outside, the sun was still high. Ramiel explored the surroundings. There were tens of thousands of players. Some entered and exited portals with confident steps. Others gathered in a nearby plaza, sitting on the ground, showing objects in their hands.
The player market.
There were no mechanical beings there. There were humans. People like him, but with more experience, more equipment, more wrinkles on their faces. They sold pelts, claws, shiny stones. They exchanged information in whispers.
Ramiel approached a stall. A man with worn armor, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, offered wolf pelts.
"Hello," Ramiel said. "How do you get those?"
The man looked him up and down. A quick, professional glance.
"You're new, right?"
"Yes."
"Dungeons. Kill monsters, grab chests, sell. But if you're new, don't even go near the good ones. They'll kill you and you'll lose a life."
"Any advice?"
The man pointed east with his chin.
"Noob zone. That's where beginners gather. Find a group. Safer."
"Thanks."
The man nodded and went back to his pelts.
Ramiel walked east.
—
The noob zone was a clearing in the forest. The grass was trampled, full of footprints. There were dozens of young people like him, some with basic armor, others with common clothes. They formed groups, discussed strategies, ventured into nearby portals.
Nervous laughter could be heard. Orders. The sound of hurried footsteps.
Ramiel approached a group of three guys. The one who seemed like the leader wore leather armor and wielded a short sword.
"Hello," Ramiel said. "Are you looking for someone else?"
The leader looked at him. The same look as the seller. Quick. Assessing.
"Level?"
"One."
"Equipment?"
"Nothing."
"Creatures?"
"No."
The leader shook his head.
"Go away. We don't want dead weight."
Ramiel tried another group. And another. And another.
"Too new."
"Without equipment you're useless."
"Come back when you have something."
"No, thanks."
"Get lost."
The last one didn't even respond. He just turned his back.
Ramiel stood still for a moment. He heard the laughter of the groups walking away. The echo of their footsteps disappearing into the portals.
No one wanted him.
He clenched his teeth. He looked around. There were small, gray portals that no one looked at. The forums said they were forgotten dungeons. Little loot. Little danger.
Perfect for someone who had nothing to lose.
He chose one. Gray. Small. Lonely.
He entered.
—
He found nothing, so he returned to his inventory, but decided to leave it to see the landscape. Then he saw it: he was alone in that place, where his inventory was, a place hundreds of kilometers wide with no other players.
Then he saw some unique ancient ruins and ventured inside.
—
The interior was a stone tunnel. Mushrooms on the walls emitted a faint greenish light, barely enough to illuminate the floor. The air smelled of humidity, of wet earth, of something rotting in the distance.
He walked.
His footsteps echoed in the tunnel. One, another, another. The echo returned them distorted, as if someone were walking behind him.
There was nothing.
No creatures. No traps. No chests.
Only the tunnel. Infinite. Empty.
He walked for what seemed like hours. The mushrooms became scarcer. The darkness, denser. The rotting smell, stronger.
But he found nothing.
Finally, the light from outside hurt his eyes again. He had come out through the same portal he entered. Or maybe it was another. He couldn't tell.
The sun was beginning to set in Sword Soul. The sky was tinged with orange and pink. Colors that on Earth 333 only existed in old photos.
Ramiel had wasted the day. He had achieved nothing.
But then he felt it.
A tug in his chest. Soft at first, like an invisible thread pulling him north. Beyond the known portals. Beyond the noob zone. Towards a place that didn't appear on any map.
He walked.
The tug grew stronger.
He walked further.
Until he found a valley hidden between mountains.
—
The valley was beautiful.
A crystal-clear river ran through its center. The water sang as it hit the stones. Colorful flowers glowed softly, as if they had their own light. The air smelled of fresh grass, of petals, of something sweet and unknown.
And in the center of the valley, a dungeon.
It was enormous. Its doors, made of ancient stone, were covered in runes that pulsed with their own light. Something inside told him that there were things there that no one else had found.
But before entering...
A groan.
Weak. Broken. To his left.
Ramiel turned.
—
By the river, three creatures lay on the ground.
A black bull, muscular, almost bipedal. Its body was covered in deep wounds. From them emanated a dark red energy, like small particles of light escaping with every heartbeat.
A turtle, also bipedal, with its shell cracked in multiple places. Through the cracks filtered a green energy, weak, almost extinct, fading into the air like vapor.
And a spider. With long legs and a purple body. Several of its legs were broken, bent at angles that shouldn't exist. From the wounds flowed a violet energy, trembling, slowly extinguishing.
They were dying.
Ramiel ran towards them.
The bull tried to stand when it saw him. A hoarse, weak bellow escaped its throat. But its hind legs didn't respond. It fell on its side.
The turtle barely moved its head. Its eyes, old and tired, looked at Ramiel without strength.
The spider trembled. Its whole body vibrated in small spasms.
Ramiel knew he couldn't carry them all. But he had read something in the forums. Creatures could be taken to the inventory if they were unconscious or too weak to resist.
He activated his interface with trembling hands.
Store creature in inventory.
But he couldn't, because he was level one. So he made a stretcher and dragged all three to his inventory. He arrived exhausted.
—
The three were in his cottage. But wounded. Dying.
Ramiel looked around. He needed help. He needed...
Plants.
In the forums they talked about medicinal plants. Some were used to create basic potions.
He ran through the valley. He searched among the glowing flowers. The system gave him information about everything. He found herbs with blue leaves. Then some with red stems. Then others yellow. He tore them out desperately, filling his hands with dirt and sap.
He didn't know if they would work. But he gathered them.
He returned to his cottage.
—
The three creatures lay on the wooden floor. The bull was barely breathing. The turtle had its eyes closed. The spider had stopped trembling, but they still had wounds, which were energy leaving their bodies, not blood.
Ramiel gathered the plants. He crushed them with a stone against the floor. The juices mixed in a greenish puddle on the wood. He looked for something to contain it. He found an earthenware bowl in a corner, old, dusty, but whole.
He poured the mixture. It smelled of grass, of sap, of something bitter.
He approached the bull first. He forced its jaws open with effort. He poured a little of the liquid. The bull swallowed by reflex.
Then the turtle. Easier. He opened its beak and let the brew drip in.
Then the spider. The hardest. Its chelicerae trembled. Ramiel soaked a piece of fabric from his shirt and brought it to its mouth. The spider sucked weakly.
He waited.
Nothing.
The creatures were still the same. The bull with labored breathing. The turtle motionless. The spider... did it move?
No. It was his imagination.
But then, a voice. The same. Cold. Feminine.
"You have created a basic recovery potion. The creatures will survive. But they need to rest. One week in Mostañas. Then you can summon them."
Ramiel exhaled. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath.
"Mostañas? The world of creatures?"
"Yes. From your cottage, open the window. You will be able to see them."
Ramiel stood up. He went to the window. That window that looked out onto a blurry landscape, onto a world that hadn't finished loading.
He opened it.
And he saw.
A green world. Gentle hills stretching to the horizon. Rivers of light winding through the valleys. And at the foot of a nearby hill, three small houses.
They were tiny. Made of wood and stone. Each with a door and a window. Like his, but in miniature.
In the first, the bull rested. It was lying down, but its head moved, its eyes blinked.
In the second, the turtle. Its shell was still cracked, but a faint light shone in the cracks. It was healing.
In the third, the spider. It hung from a silk thread on the ceiling of its little house, swaying gently. Alive.
Ramiel felt something warm in his chest.
"I did it..."
He smiled. For the first time since he entered Sword Soul, he truly smiled. A wide, clean smile that hurt his jaw from not being used for so long.
"Rest," he told the creatures, even though they couldn't hear him. "When you recover, I'll summon you. And I'll make you stronger. I'll build you better houses. I'll give you everything you need. I promise."
The window glowed softly.
For an instant, it seemed to him that the bull raised its head. That its eyes, black and deep, looked at him across the distance.
Or maybe it was his imagination.
But it didn't matter.
Ramiel closed the window. He left his cottage. He disconnected.
—
On Earth 333, on his makeshift bed behind the curtain, Ramiel took off the helmet.
The room was dark. It smelled of humidity, of stale food, of his mother sleeping in the next room.
But he was smiling.
He was exhausted. His eyes hurt. His arms weighed like lead.
He was still level one. He still had no gold. He still had no armor.
But he had something else.
Three creatures to save.
And that, in Sword Soul, was worth more than all the gold in the world.
He lay down on the bed. Closed his eyes.
And for the first time in months, he slept without nightmares.