Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

A leaf drifted from its branch, severed by the natural cycle of decay. It fell, spiraling through the air, caught in the unseen currents of an indifferent world.

And then, there I was.

Another leaf. Still attached. Watching the first one descend.

A part of me had already fallen. A part of me had already perished, again and again. But another part of me remained, reborn at the junction I had chosen. And like clockwork, I followed after, once more stepping into the same descent, embracing the same fall.

No one else saw it. No one else knew.

But I did.

I had died before. Many, many times. More than I cared to count. More than I ever admitted.

Each death was a lesson. Each failure is an opportunity to do it all over again—better, sharper, more decisive.

To steer her future in a direction where she would never have to suffer the way she once did.

Narcissus.

My radiant one.

In this faithful attempt of my exploration of her branching fates, I had seen her fall before—seen the light in her eyes dim, seen the weight of loss carve itself into her expression, seen her proud stance crumble under the weight of everything she had been forced to endure.

I saw her ruined under the most beautiful of light, from the betrayals

But not in this fruitful timeline that I had cultivated ever since I did a hard restart on every decision and attempt that I made—which amounted to more than 700 years of my lifetime.

Quite a large number, I know.

Those numbers should be enough of a testament of my knowledge and experience of what should come through.

And in this very fruitful time, I had changed things.

Now, I had seen my Radiant One's face in this timeline, beaming with pride, with motivation, with that fire rekindled in her gaze.

And knowing that, knowing that I had made even the smallest difference—there were no words for the joy it brought me.

A joy beyond the comprehension of those who had never seen what I had seen. A joy that belonged solely to me.

"Erika."

The sound of my name pulled me from my thoughts.

I turned my head—slowly, deliberately—until my gaze landed on Sera.

She stood beside me, her usual confident stance unchanged, though her expression carried something unreadable beneath her usual composure.

"You're spacing out again," she remarked, tilting her head slightly. "What's on your mind?"

I shifted my weight slightly, allowing my claws to idly scrape against the handle of my Prismforge.

"Just wondering," I murmured, "if certain things are unavoidable in life."

Sera blinked, caught off guard by the statement. She crossed her arms, brows furrowing as she gave the thought genuine consideration.

After a moment, she exhaled. "I think it doesn't really matter if things are unavoidable." Her green eyes flickered with a sharp, thoughtful glint. "What matters is how you deal with it. What you take away from it. Whether you let it break you or push you forward."

I smiled. "That's a very you answer."

Sera gave a short huff, shaking her head. "And you've been looking tired lately. Like, years of exhaustion kind of tired."

I blinked, feigning mild surprise. "Oh? You've been watching me that closely?"

Sera frowned, ignoring my playful tone. "I'm serious."

That earned her a quiet chuckle from me.

"Well," I mused, my gaze drifting to the vast abyssal cavern ahead, where the Duolos vessels continued their analysis of the foreign earth-concept structures embedded in this subterranean ruin. "I suppose I'm happy that you haven't changed much."

Sera narrowed her eyes. "Haven't changed? You're kidding, right?" She motioned vaguely to herself. "I was a completely different person before joining the bastion."

"Mm. And yet, you're still you."

She exhaled, crossing her arms. "That's the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten."

"I meant it sincerely," I assured her.

Sera studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "It's rare for you to say you like something that isn't Lady Narcissus."

I tilted my head slightly. "Oh, but I like Lady Narcissus a hundred times more than I like you."

Her flat stare was instant.

"That completely ruins the compliment."

I merely chuckled.

Before she could retort further, my gaze flicked to the time display on my Mini-MSU.

It was time.

The moment had arrived—one I had already foreseen, one I had already lived through.

I stepped away from our position, my movements slow, deliberate. The shifting illumination of the Theotech Site cast long shadows along the uneven terrain, the dull gleam of ancient metals and organic formations creating an eerie stillness in the air.

The hum of psychic processing echoed faintly as the Duolos vessels continued their analysis, their forms unnervingly precise as they synchronized with the Landship's network.

Sera noticed my movement instantly.

Her sharp eyes flickered with scrutiny, her brow furrowing. She followed my trajectory, tracking my path as I made my way toward one of the Duolos vessels stationed near the scanning perimeter.

She didn't say anything—not yet. But I could feel her unspoken questions pressing against me, could sense the weight of her instinct stirring with unease.

I didn't acknowledge it.

Instead, I adjusted my grip on my Prismforge.

And then—I surged forward.

My weapon reshaped itself mid-motion, the crystalline framework warping, morphing—into a form that bore no resemblance to any standard-issue weapon among our bastioneers.

A lance.

But not one of elegance, nor balance.

It was jagged, erratic in structure—cruel in its very design. A weapon built not for battle, but for erasure. For undoing the presence of something that had no right to exist in this world.

The moment my speed broke past natural limitation, the Duolos vessel reacted.

It turned toward me, its neural pathways processing my rapid approach in real time—calculating, predicting, preparing to defend.

But I wasn't aiming for it.

"Dodge."

There was no hesitation. No delay.

The Duolos vessel obeyed instantly, shifting aside just as the air behind it ruptured.

A deep, guttural rip split through existence itself, the fabric of reality convulsing, folding, peeling away in jagged, branching cracks.

A wound in the world.

And from within—

A grotesque, veined head emerged.

A Pallid Mermaid.

I had seen its kind before.

Fought them before. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire

Died to them before.

Its form pulsed with an unnatural stillness, its frozen, humanoid face peering outward with that same unmoving expression—blank, yet suffocating. A thing that did not blink, did not breathe, did not obey the fundamental logic of existence.

A stalker of humanity. A predator that did not kill out of necessity, but out of something far worse—an instinct refined to the point of absolute efficiency.

The moment it breached through, I was already moving.

My lance struck first.

The Prismforge, sharpened into a spearhead of sheer violent intent, pierced through the abomination's emergence, driving itself into its grotesque, sinewy membrane.

The mermaid shuddered, its form rippling—not in pain, not in reaction, but as though the very concept of my attack was disrupting its existence.

A direct hit. A perfect execution.

I shoved it back.

Force met force, the crack in reality recoiling under the weight of my strike, the unnatural passage sealing itself shut.

As if it had never been there at all.

Silence.

The Duolos vessel remained motionless, still processing the event.

Sera, however—

She was staring.

Not just at what had just happened.

But at me.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

Her voice wasn't laced with fear. It was edged with uncertainty.

Because she knew.

She knew that what had just happened wasn't normal.

That I wasn't normal.

But she didn't know how deep that truth ran.

I exhaled, lowering my weapon slightly—but my stance remained poised, my fingers still curled around the shaft of my Prismforge, prepared to strike again.

Because I knew this wasn't over.

More cracks appeared as my mind raced.

A ripple in space, a distortion of existence—jagged fractures splitting open one after another, Pallid Mermaids emerging from the void, slipping through like wraiths breaching from a world unseen.

I moved before the first could fully manifest.

My body blurred, my Prismforge carving through the abyssal air, striking before they could stabilize, before they could claim a foothold in our reality.

One by one, I sent them back.

A perfect execution. A predetermined outcome.

Sera, eyes wide with disbelief, turned to me. "How—how do you know where they'll appear? How are you hitting them before they fully manifest? Actually, no, this is just like you." She sighed hard.

I met her gaze—then, slowly, rotated my neck completely around.

Her breath hitched.

"Evacuate all Duolos vessels from this site," I ordered, my voice smooth, unwavering. "Not a single one of them is to make direct contact with these creatures."

Sera was still reeling from what she had just seen, but she swallowed back her confusion and nodded. "Got it."

She turned sharply, issuing immediate commands to the neuromorphic network. The Duolos vessels, linked to the network's consensus, responded without delay, beginning their withdrawal from the exposed sites.

Still—Sera hesitated.

She looked at me again, eyes narrowing.

"Are these… really the same things that were spotted near the Landship?"

"Yes," I confirmed, striking another Pallid Mermaid back into its fractured dimension.

Her fists clenched. "Then why the hell do you look like you're treating them like they're worse than any standard monster?"

I smiled.

"Because touching them," I said simply, "feels exactly like dying at the Time of Nihil."

Sera paled.

But she didn't argue.

She turned, giving the final evacuation order.

And as the Duolos vessels moved in sync with our directive, I exhaled, rotating my neck back into place.

Then, I readied myself.