This is... something.

I know this might seem entirely OC at the beginning but trust me, the verses you see tagged are a major part of the story, in addition to more minor additions from other shows, anime, movies and games.

Oh, and for any inaccuracies can be attributed to me being German and all my data on American school life being pulled from modern media or second hand experience I got from friends.

Why I'm not just doing it with my own School System? Relatability, mostly. And I wanna write out of my comfort zone, expand my horizons. If I feel I can portray a situation better if I use terms that the European readers are more familiar with then you'll have to use context to understand their meaning.

The MC, at least personality wise, is a Self-Insert. If you do not agree with his views on life, DM me and you can effectively ask the MC himself.

The sky.

Blue, bright sky. I wonder if flying would be fun?

"Mason!" I jump slightly in my chair, earning a few snickers from the people in my class. I frown for a second in irritation. But sigh as I remember how boring school is, no wonder they take any excuse to get rid of that droning feeling. Even at the cost of my comfort.

"Yes Mr. Woodwork?" I try to sound excited, failing miserably. The name is still so strange to me. It's my first day at the new school, having moved from Germany to here so my Mom could be with 'Family'. Bullshit. She just wants an excuse to wiggle back into Gramps' life so she can get some of his inheritance money. But it's not much of a shift for me, I'm proficient enough in English that my thoughts have adapted it as their main tongue. Every piece of media I consume is in English... but that doesn't mean I know it's culture first hand.

I can't relate to anybody here and, while my accent isn't bad, it's still noticeable if you talk to me more than a minute. Ha! If everybody treats me here like how everybody treated me back home, I think I can manage to avoid that.

"You're new to America, right?" He asks nicely, his brown eyes closed to complete a broad smile that fits his chunky build and white hair, making for a Santa-that-got-into-marketing-instead-of-Christmas-work look.

I pull down my black hoodie, which has already put me in the box with the silent types of the school, no doubt, and masterfully pull my EarPods down with my hands to remove them from my ears. While I don't like being stereotyped, it's also my fault for behaving the way I do despite intricately knowing how peoples perception can affect their judgment and mental processes, so I don't blame anybody.

I nod while my short, genetically white hair, a result from my mom's poliosis, reveals itself to the class. I'm no attention whore, so I tried keeping this as low-key as possible, but I wont bemoan some public favor. It's just that I got shit for 'being quirky for the sake of being quirky' and got bullied for it, so it's complicated shit that comes with my hair.

A few people mutter and some girls make weird reactions, which I sort into the 'I don't care' shelf in my mind because I'm not filtering signs of interest from... whatever the fuck else it could be to get with a girl. I know it'll be forgotten in a few months but it'll be a hassle until then. 'Hey, are you the guy with the white hair?' or 'It shines like silver, do you use hair products?' like, just leave me alone, please! At this rate, it'll be gray in no time.

"Yes, I just moved here." I simply answer the question. Man, if the principal would be in this class I'd be paying more attention... I fucking hate hormones. Yeah, ok, no. If the principal dresses in short skirts and shows excessive cleavage then that's not my fault, she's the pedo not me! Well, I'm eighteen but my transfer and the switching of the school systems kinda fucked the age gap between my classmates and me up big time, sooo...

The teacher nods and continues to eerily smile at me. "I hope your understanding of the English language is on par with the rest of us?" He asks with something akin to intimidation but his mall-Santa ass couldn't intimidate for shit.

I nod, giving no hint of his provocation having any effect. God, it's 2024, how are there still teachers who can't teac- ok, no. It's 2024, I'm wondering why there aren't any more. "Yes, my previous grades in my English elective should cover everything I should need." I explain as non-aggressively as I could, though I think something slipped through as I can see his teeth grit.

Looking around, it's obvious this teacher has some problems as the most common look on my classmates faces is something akin to 'Here we go again'. "Seeing as you're German, I simply wanted to look out for you. Also, keep the hoodie off your head." He almost spits out.

...

Huh?

Is- was that racism? I thought it's a stereotype that all Americans see us as 'Nazis' but damn... Well, it's kind if entertaining to see it in action, I'm not really affected by him right now, my grades are consistently up and if I just outperform everybody here then he cant deny me good grades despite personal beliefs. I'll just have to start studying for the first time in my life, having been able to grasp subjects good enough to get A's and B's my entire life.

But I'll do it just to spite this fucker.

I take a quick breath. Anger issues Mason. Calm it.

A quick glare and reluctant nod from him later and I prop my head up with my arm, conveniently covering my white Ear Pod with my palm. The Breakcore blast into my brain, giving me something to focus on. My brain, if there isn't a certain amount of stimuli, just feels so clustered. Like there's a headache but there isn't, probably something along the lines of ADHD but my bullshit Mom wont let me test my mind for shit, so I deal with it myself.

Class ended with nothing much more happening. I got thrown three questions by Mr. Woodwork but it was easy stuff and I settled it.

But now comes the most annoying part of school for me. I have a problem.

I am conventionally attractive.

OK, OK- Hold on! I'm not doing the whole 'Oh, woe is me, I'm hot!' thing!

I'm just anti-social, which probably developed from the constant need to move housing and schools and lack of consistent social outlets, and I don't like all the attention it gives me. I am aware that society favors the attractive and I'll be abusing the shit out of that when I'm out of the educative hellhole that is school but it's just annoying for me currently.

My god this sounds pretentious.

I hate even thinking about it like this. 'Oh no! I'm hot!' Fuck! Why is thinking so exhausting?! Why can't I have always been hot so I would've already dealt with this internal dispute bullshit. But no! I need the very last years of my teens to give me what my fourteen year old self desperately wanted.

"Hey!" I turn to face the high-pitched voice, clearly female. "You're Mason, right?" The blonde asks as I move to my locker. I fiddle with the lock but quickly give up, we didn't have these in Germany so I'll keep everything in my bag as always. The girl had not taken the hint that I wasn't the kind of person for social interaction and was still looking expectantly for an answer, her azure eyes trying to bore into my soul with faux innocence.

I blink a bit longer than normal, centering myself. "Yes I am. Why do you ask?" I tell her kindly. I really must seem like an asshole right now. 'A girl is trying to talk to me, why is my life so hard?'. I really hate how conflicting my emotional state to my physical appearance is.

She replies, apparently undeterred by my disinterest. "Cuz' you're the new guy! I gotta show you around!" She excitedly proclaims, seemingly radiating kindness that blinded me.

"Don't we have class in five minutes?" I ask, trying to poke holes in her plan to get myself free from social obligations.

She shakes her head. "I got permission from a teacher, we can skip History if you let me show you around." She exclaims in a whisper.

I sigh, contemplating for but a moment before I accept. "Sure." My one-word answer was enough for her as she motions for me to follow her as she turns to walk down the hallway.

"This is the Gym, you'll have PE in here on Thursdays." She adds to the sight of the large, open space consisting of hard floors and stale air. Basketball hoops decorate both sides and a labyrinth of rafters hangs in the air, holding up various contraptions used in exercise.

I hear the double doors close behind us as we walk through the building, aiming for the doors at the opposite side, probably leading to an additional building she sees fit to show me. "What's your name?" I ask plainly, not bothering with pleasantries when I don't care for the interaction itself.

She either does not care enough about such frivolities or doesn't notice my disinterested tone as she replies in what I have learnt is her usual jolly state. "Milly Poach! Proud student and future Lawyer!" Something in her tone feels... different. Still happy but more restrained- or fake? I'm not good at reading emotions off of peoples faces, so I can't gleam much.

I nod. "I'm guessing you score the highest grades?" I ask, a slight bit more interested as she slowly shifts from stranger to acquaintance classification in my mind.

She nods twice, which makes me notice the pink highlights on the end of her short blonde hair. Which is a statement on my disinterest in social interaction, as I've had my eyes forward or on the ground most of the conversation, out of a mix of embarrassment and social ineptitude. "That's right! Though from your performance in class, I'm guessing I've got a contender now, huh?" She challenges in good humor, making me smirk slightly.

I shrug exasperatedly. "I don't know where you got that from, I only answered three or so questions." My pride, one of my worst attributes, shows as I desperately want to show off what little good qualities I have. I'm prideful in the sense that I want others to acknowledge my power and skill, which may have been born from the lack of said acknowledgment.

She chuckles, I don't know if it's a fake chuckle she did to sound cute or if she is entertained enough by what I'm saying to laugh but I don't care enough to dig deeper. Yet. She seems pretty nice, and if she doesn't get pushy about my personal life then hanging out with her is better than being the newest loner in the school. "Is that so, hmm?" Another chuckle, though this one dies swiftly in her throat. "But really no, you hadn't been listening the entire lecture but you could answer Mr. Woodworks questions still."

I nod. "I didn't make it hard for anybody to see that I wasn't really interested. He seemed upset with me over something from the very beginning, so I didn't care to fake interest." I don't tell her that I think Mr. Woodwork has some rather... uncouth views because it's my first day here and a man that is apparently so well known in the student body must've been able to hide is animosity quite well.

She nods and winces. "Yeah, but we think he's got some dirt on the principal so he wont be fired any time soon. Sorry if he makes you uncomfortable." She doesn't conform my suspicions directly but it's enough for me to know how to act towards the teacher. I nod at her reaffirming words.

The conversation dies down as we approach the doors, having passed through the gymnasium.

"Why are we getting literal slop?" I ask Milly as I walk with her through the relatively large cafeteria, tray filled with amorphous white sludge and a milk carton in hand. Three rows of four bench-lined tables fill the middle of the building, which was located behind the gym and was filled with students who's first set of classes got canceled and they decided to study here. We got the food that I think they feed pigs from a guy behind the counter called 'Jim', who assured my that 'it wont give you anything you could sue us with'. Which is both reassuring and terrifying.

She flinches as she pokes her own mass of wheat and pain. "We got here before lunch, so it's all we can get." She says, a shaky tone in her voice.

I shrug as we sit down on an empty table, the guy one table over having headphones on and is in deep focus on his book. 'Geography of the Asian continent', how can you get so deep into a geography book? "Does this still count as a 'tour'?" I ask with a smirk, trying to find some satisfaction from teasing her.

Her plain white short jacket stops it's sway as she stammers for an excuse. "A- U-Um, I-I was just hungry. I'm sorry." Her demeanor had shifted drastically, as if I'd just reprimanded a puppy.

My instincts as a previous dog-owner scream at me to pet her but I quickly remind myself that I've known her for about an hour and she's very much human. "Ah, it's fine. I wont tell anybody." I reassure her with a slightly worried expression.

She sniffles, though no tears stain her face. "N-Not even my sister?" She timidly asks, as if it was a great sin to withhold information from her 'Sister'.

I nod as I return my attention to my 'meal', my brain being overwhelmed by the sheer effort required to negate the panic I had undergone at her distraught expression. It could've been anybody, really. I hadn't been raised to do so, but at some point in life I adopted the practice of being a decent human being and helping anybody I can. "You have a sister?" I know in retrospect that most of her moping was probably fabricated but I don't care either way. Most of my interactions with people are filled with either complete disinterest or false niceties I use to get by, so I have no say in how somebody behaves.

She nods as she wipes away a tear that didn't exist. "Katie, she's in class B but couldn't go to school today. She and I are twins, isn't that cool?" She regains some of her excitement as the sentence goes on, a proud and amazed expression on her face at the thought of her twin.

I nod. "That's cool, I never had a sibling." Not that I care to have one, any kid my mother would produce would have my sincere sympathies along with my protection.

School has ended, finally. The track home was short, it was pure coincidence as I doubt mom would make my life deliberately easier. The suburbia passes by in what feels like seconds as I arrive at our house. Mom was rich, having divorced enough for the next few generations and being a bitch about the settlements. I kind of feel bad for the guys she married. I liked Frank the most, he was nice enough to buy me my computer. Of course, mom had destroyed it the second I talked back to her after getting it.

I shake my head and walk to the door, uncared for gardens to my left and right before I open the door, the creaky noise no doubt alerting her. "Mason!?" She yells from what I can tell is the kitchen. As I pull off my shoes, I hear soft footsteps before my mother, as white haired as me, rounds the corner. Her eyes are filled with self-riotousness, her belief that all the 'disciplinary action' she had taken in regards to me was completely justified.

Well, my cheek would like to protest, given it's frequent abuse. Though, I think my brain would have dibs, the emotional abuse is far more strenuous than any hard slap could be painful.

I don't glare at her. I don't scowl, as much as I want to. I don't fake happiness, she'd know I faked it.

She glares down at me, her six foot three stature making her a good inch and a half taller than me. "I'm having friends over, I don't want to see you for the rest of the day. They'll be here in an hour, get the dishes and washing done and don't come downstairs today after you're done."

I wanted to ask her how the hell I'd feed myself but that dilemma leads to guilt-tripping and misery, so I leave it.

She retreats into her fortress of make-believe friendships filled with just as shallow people as her and I make my way into the kitchen, intent on cleaning the plates and utensils as fast as humanly possible before slamming the clothes into the washer.

My tired eyes look at the glowing screen of my phone, it's light illuminating the darkness of my room. The desk next to the closet in the corner still enshrouded in darkness as my bed faces towards them, meaning my phone light inly reaches the wall behind me along with my slightly pale face.

I want to stay awake, I don't want to face another day. School, while Milly is fun, it's still the educational prison made by hubris, is something I don't want to face again. I don't want another day of verbal abuse from the person that's supposed to love me unconditionally.

But my body demanded it and so, I followed it's demands.

I always push forward. Always.

As I close my eyes, I can hear a faint ringing of a bell, a 'ding' sound. I ignore it and fall into the abyss of my own mind.

"Oh yes... Paleblood." I hear a faint and soft voice as a fog lifts itself from my mind, replaced with something akin to a morning haze mixed with familiarity. I groan a bit but notice that I cannot muster the strength to speak, only my eyes lift them selves after what felt like tremendous effort. I see the faint outline of a man, well- his top hat at least, along with a glow coming from a lantern attached to what looks like a wooden wheelchair. "Well, you've come to the right place."

I blink a couple more times, noticing that my clothes have shifted from my pajamas to a Victorian suit and a coat on my shoulders, white trousers adorning my legs. The man slowly rolls his wheelchair forward, wood and rudimentary mechanical parts making uncomfortable noise in this dark, cold room. The walls are lined with shelves, vials filled with indescribable liquid along with scattered books and paper filling the rows and rows of furniture.

Where the hell am I? Who is that guy?

"Yharnam is the home of blood ministration." He says, rolling froward ever so slightly. Yharnam? I... what the hell is Yharnam? "You need only unravel it's mystery." 'It's mystery' 'Home of blood ministration', what the hell kind of place is this 'Yharnam'? Questions followed by questions fill my mind, did I get kidnapped while I was asleep? I never heard of a city or town called 'Yharnam'.

"But, where's an outsider like yourself to begin?" He leans forward slightly, some dim light showing the ragged clothes the old man wore. 'Outsider'? I'm... what? My questions don't stop, necessarily, they just take a back seat in favor of rampant confusion at the confliction information. If I'm an 'Outsider', why would an 'Insider' bring me into his city? Does this guy just like kidnapping kids and then keeps them in a dungeon somewhere?

"Easy, with a bit of Yharnam blood of your own..." That had, implications. None of which where good. Am I getting a blood transfusion? This does not look like a sanitized clinic, so a multitude of diseases are assured but it also gives this guy a motive for kidnapping me.

Experimentation.

Clearly, he just want a test subject for whatever twisted blood-related experiment he is preparing. Shame I still feel to weak to talk, otherwise I'd scream for help, though in what seems like is a cellar, I doubt anybody'd hear me.

The man then reveals his sickly face, eyes and cheeks covered in two sets of rugged bandages, the beard of gray hair clearly viable in the light of a lantern I can discern is to my right. "But first, you'll need a contract..." Contract? So he get's into no legal trouble? The fuck is this? The mans lifts his hand to what reveals itself to be a compartment on his disability chair where he pulls a decrepit piece of parchment from. "Just sign your name and you'll be good to go." He proclaims and my hands start to move.

Without my consent.

I struggle, my hands and arms jittering as if possessed but after a minute or so, my name sits in shaky handwriting on the bottom of a page full of words I cant read.

'Mason Blutdorn'

My name, translating to Blood thorn seems mighty appropriate right now, for some reason.

"Good. All signed and sealed." Indeed it was, whatever language he wrote this thing in, I couldn't read it, neither could I object, my paralysis apparent through my unfeeling limbs. "Now," He says in a breathy voice, anticipation dripping from his tone. "let's begin the transfusion."

My panicked expression made it apparent that I wasn't as paralyzed as I though, and he noticed. "Oh, don't you worry." I loose the strength in my neck to keep my head up and fully lean onto the cold metal surface I lay on, an operating table, I'm guessing. "Whatever happens... You may think it all a mere bad dream..." It was not nearly as reassuring as he was leading it on to be. He jerks in a chuckle as my vision blurs. His throaty laughter is the last thing I remember before my mind is sedated in whatever experiment this is.

A pool of blood. Sitting in the now solely dark operating room, it reeks of the coppery scent. Though... it is somehow sweet. Ever so slightly, barely piercing the metal smell, there is something sweet. Something... desirable. My thoughts, muddled as they where, are broken as the puddle moved, rippled. A head, furry and blood-soaked, rose from the sanguine puddle. Gleaming white eyes gazed at me.

It crawled out of it's liquid prison, clawing forward until the quadrupedal form of a wolf abomination covered in blood was next to me. It raised it's hand, a clawed and sharp thing it was.

Then, suddenly, it burst into flame, the room glowing in orange light before the beast returned to whatever world it came from. As the ash merges with the puddle of blood and the dust settles, My left leg, through the unfamiliar clothes, is touched by a hand. A uncharacteristically small hand. A blue glow accompanies the emergence of a small, pale creature, a skinny and sickly looking miniature humanoid who's mouth is disformed in unspeakable ways. In a flash, another comes from my left, then another and before I know it, I was covered in the crawling forms of these creatures.

My vision fades again, my though muddled and full of fear.

"OH MY GOD!" I scream as I stumble from the cold surface I lay upon, falling onto a wooden floor. My shins sting and my elbows scrape as I fall to my knees. "W-" I cough, my throat feeling dry. "What the hell was that?!" I manage to ramble out through gasps and coughs. I take a deep breath, and another, before letting them go. It's shaky but I calm down enough to confirm that I was in the same laboratory/medical room that that guy experimented on me in.

And where I saw a werewolf lookin' thing try to eat me and small demons crawl onto me. But the blood puddle is gone, not a stain besides the rot and dirt remaining. It gives me some comfort. But not much, I was still in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar clothes. I stand back up on shaking legs before I recognize that I don't think I can move right now and grab a nearby chair. As I sit down, the wood creaking as I do so, I feel a slip of paper on my ass.

I slip my hand, shaking as it is, below my cheeks and pull out a handwritten scrawl on parchment.

'Seek Paleblood to transcend the hunt.'

What stood out was not that it talked about the same Paleblood the old asshole mentioned but that it was written in the same language the contract was in, a language I could now read. And write, as my mind tells me, along with being able to speak fluent Yharnam. Whatever happened to me was not natural, this is all so uncanny.

I shouldn't be here, it looks like some 16th century plague doctors hobby lab and I don't favor my odds if that wolf thing shows up again. As I sit on the wooden chair, leather straps on my back that are made to restrain possible subjects, another unnerving thing about this place, something truly supernatural happens.

Either, what the doctor did to me has made me crazy, or I have become something more than a normal guy.

Because;

Welcome, Gamer!

You have been chosen as the champion of your world to help it survive the coming multiverse merges!

To assist in this goal, you have been given [The System] by Ǘ̸̡͚̼͚͖̘̪͎̣̟̭̦̓̀̃̈̈̔̄̈́͆̇́̋̋͜ͅͅǹ̵̢̘̣̬̜̦͒̅̂̓̔f̵͙̫̻̦̩̫͎̭̞̖̙̟̬̪̽̈́̀́̽ä̶̭̬̼̭̦͇͈́̉̉͒̿͌̈́̅͐̀͌̏̕͜ͅț̷̩̩̞̬̟̝̳̥̄̀̂̈́̃̎̚ĥ̴̡̺ö̵̩̯̼̮͕̙̪̺͚̺̻͖́̈́͑̋̍̍̄̐̈́̾̕̚͝m̴͉͚̀ą̴͇͔̫͚̙̫͍͉̝̓͑́̿̍͜b̵̢̮̝̣͗͋̆̉͊̎́̇́̈́l̸͙̬̫͌̊̓ḗ̴͉̝̩͙͍̟̅̆͘̕.

To initiate, simply say 'Tutorial'.

This... wasn't real. A gamer system? I read fanfiction, a rabbit hole I stumbled upon after wanting more from my favorite anime and shows, and this certainly was something I recognized. There... there was a way to prove if it was real, and if it works I wouldn't doubt it any further. I've seen more supernatural things in the last ten minutes than the entire human race has ever.

"Tutorial."

The screen changed and my heart dropped at the implication. Whatever a multiverse merge was, it was apparently such a big emergency that my entire world needed a champion. Me.

[Tutorial Quest] Part 1

Welcome to [The System]!

The first thing you need to know is that the stereotypical functions of a gamer system are limited, adapted from the world around you. You will need a way to gain strength in the world you are currently in and the system will adapt.

Objective: Find a way to level up!

Rewards: Gacha Token [Machine] X1

I was... in another world? That's why... why I didn't recognize the name 'Yharnam'. This... I've just been dumped into a far bigger pond than I'm ready to handle. But the screen, the blue glowing videogame screen is gone with but a thought of me, furthermore proving it's consistency and disproving any notions of insanity.

I step forward and approach the door, shoving it open with a shaky expression, trying to find the willpower in myself to continue in the face of uncertainty. The steps down are decorated in blood, spelling a stairway into death. I take a step, then another and then another. Each helps calm me, shows me that I can move forward even in the face of such daunting odds. The wood creaks but I make it to the bottom, a small room with broken wood floorboards and shelves filled with the same miscellaneous objects as the laboratory room line the walls.

As I take another step forward, I hear something. A noise, a growl. Accompanied by the sound of rending flesh and gnawing teeth. The sound of death, obviously. I stop dead in my tracks. "Wha-" I let out in a soft breathy motion.

This time when I continue walking, I sneak, actively avoiding any unsafe looking floorboards and taking measured breaths. The next room is large, Two pillars stand to ensure structural integrity and the same blood infusion stations and operating tables are scattered all around.

And then there was the beast.

Gnawing on bone and chewing on flesh, it was the wolf from my nightmare, just less red. But covered in blood nonetheless. Some sorry fool was being eaten by it but my disgust of the situation was drowned out by the pure terror I was feeling. Whatever this was, it is a killer, unfeeling and unchanging. It's sole goal is to spread fear among the populous and kill as much as it can.

Then suddenly, it stops feasting.

It turns to me, steamy breath escaping it's rotten mouth.

I freeze, my fight or flight working in overdrive.

But just as I was about to run back into the room behind me, the beast was already looming above me in a charge. I tried to jump backwards but I was too slow, it grabbed my shoulders with it's clawed hands before it's mouth bit into my neck. It smelled rotten, like death and it brought the end to me swiftly, though not without much pain. I was bleeding on the floor the next second, the beast now feeding on me.

I was just conscious enough to feel it eat my intestines.

I died the next moment.

"ARG!" I shouted as phantom pain electrified my brain. My eyes saw gray tiled floor, a stony path no doubt but I didn't analyze further as I started clawing at my abdomen, where the beasts claws had ripped me open. My other hand claws at the stony ground as I groan. "Fuck..." I let out in a gasp. "I'm- I'm alive. How?" I tiredly ask the nothingness as I fall onto my back, to be greeted by a gray sky filled with just a large gray moon in the sky, along with the infinite expanse of gray clouds.

I frown "That's not right." I sit back up straight and see that gigantic pillars decorate the vast horizon, not another patch of land in sight. I rise to my feet completely, still an ache in my stomach and a jitter in my step as I look at my surroundings. It was oddly warm as I saw the house on the hill, two paths, both lined with tombstones, leading up to it. White flowers that softly glow in the moonlight and other plants that make this place feel... oddly comfortable. A doll, a human sized doll sat on a stone extension, limp and unliving.

It looks to real to be man made, it has joints, clearly visible as I approach but it's skin is just so... real. I don't dare touch it, whoever lives here probably left it out here as decoration and doesn't want dead people touching his stuff. On that topic- "How the fuck am I alive?" I get no answer, for who is here to answer me?

In that moment, a mist of gray light, a puddle forms next to me on the ground. Out of it come those blue things and I take a swift step back, still on alert from literately dying. The held something, weapons. Where they going to attack m- no. They held them out to- to me? For me? To fight whatever that monster is? But I'm dead?

Still, I pick up the saw looking thing, it's overall statue more suited for my liking as it seems and continue on up the steps to the door of the house. Another pair of these things show up, the las tones having offered me only one of their weapons. This time, they hold guns. Flintlocks from the 16th century but still, a real fucking gun. I... didn't know what the difference between either was so I picked the smaller one because if I'm going to be wielding both a melee and a ranged weapon, then I'd like to be as light as possible.

The also gave me ten silver bullets, which I frowned at. Was silver a good material to make bullets with? I scoff, done with this place. "What do I know? Maybe these werewolf motherfuckers are weak to silver?!" I say under my breath. As I approach the top, a last set of these guys comes along, only holding one item this time. It was a book and some kind of flare gun. They gave no ammo but the notebook was cool, I guess. Though, after inspection, it was very much empty. So, no free insight into what the fuck is happening in my life right now.

The door was locked, of course it was. Because why should I be able to ask somebody what is actually happening right now? I sigh and look at the not-so-heavy butchers cleaver in my hand. It hand bandages all over it's grip and even it's blade, which was itself, weird. It had spiked edges, teeth. But then, another curious thing came to my attention.

A lever at the hilt.

I flicked it.

The cleaver sprang into action, sparks temporarily flying as the edge that was decorated in serrated teeth flew forwards to become whatever the fuck this new form was. The lower edge, the clearly sharp one, could now be more effectively used. Everything that I know about science tells me that this thing should've fallen apart the second I did that.

But anything is possible when you're a gamer, right?

Next thing you know, you're flinging Rasengan's and Domain Expansions around left and right.

...

I don't think this is as relatable a situation as I think it is.

One of the gravestone, the one at the bottom of the path I'm currently on shakes for a moment before it goes back to normal. I frown, do I have to deal with zombies now? Am I a zombie? I did die.

Thoughts for a later time when the dead aren't rising.

I approach the gravestone, taking in the calming scent of the flowers along the way. The shaking was apparently just words etching themselves into the thing. Then the blue guy group came again, the little fellas pawing at me like a cat. I frowned but shrugged, except for our first meeting, these guys have been nothing but helpful. No need to hate 'em. Though, I'm still not sure about what kind of afterlife gives you weapons. I look at what wrote itself on the tombstone. "1st Floor Sickroom?" Then I felt the hand of one of the little guys on my stomach and the world faded to black.

I woke up to wooden floors. A faint blue glow now in the same room as I was in before I died. I heard the beast, feasting on what was probably my corpse. My mind raced at the sound, panicking and I just wanted to crawl up into a ball and cry. I was back, the 'Sickroom' apparently referring to this place and the garden thing not being an afterlife, more a pitstop between revivals.

Holy hell, I was immortal.

And it was the worst kind.

I still died, I still felt the pain, and holy shit was it painful to have your intestines eaten. "But..." I took a deep breath. "But I've got a gun now, a weapon too. I'll..." From somewhere below the great amount of fear I was feeling, I dredged up a furious anger. Anger at the beast for killing me so ruthlessly, so painfully. Anger at whoever put me here. "I'll kill that fuckin' thing."

But for now, I'll go the other way, there was another staircase leading up to a door that I could see and I'd like to know my options first. And also, I was still scared shitless, even if I'll kill the thing. Even if I'll die trying.

Again.

A quick step up and I was trying to open the door. "Huh, wha-"

"Are you... out on the hunt?" A soft, female voice said from the other side.

Holy shit another person. Oh my god. Thank you, whoever you are, I needed you. "Hi, my god. I thought I was alone in here." I say with clear exhaustion.

I hear a soft chuckle from the door. "No no, you're in front of my clinic. I am Iosefka. But... I'm very sorry. I can't let you in. Though you sound like you've been though a good amount of huntin'!" She tells me, again with the 'Hunt'.

I let my hand rest on the locked hinges of the door. "What hunt? I-" Do I want to tell people I'm immortal? Probably not. It's a good idea to keep something liek that a secret. Well, not like anybody here could really do anything to me besides kill me, my family isn't here... or... anything. Nobody is here. I'm alone, in a world not my own. I don't have my grandpa, who was the only family member relatively kind to me, no friends that I luckily made on my first day of school, no future in a career I probably would hate.

I was stuck here, in what was the closest approximation of a living hell I could think of.

"Hello, are you still there?" Iosefka asks and I blink, regaining focus.

"Yes, I'm still here. I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you said." I ask her, having rudely asked her a question just not to listen to her answer. God, social interaction, as much as I craved it the past half an hour, sucks.

She gasps. "Are you... alright? How many nights have you been out hunting? Is the sickness already getting to you?" She asks with clear worry, something I hadn't gotten since my real dad left. Just worry for my safety. It's a nice feeling.

I shrug, though I doubt she could see it. "I'm fine, I'm new here. I woke up in another room and found myself in front of your door."

She probably nodded but I couldn't tell. "Ah, that explains it! You're an outsider. Well, Yharnam is an unfriendly place to people like you, especially on a night like this. I recommend you do your duty as a hunter and slay a few beasts, it's what you're dressed to do, I judge." Ah, she could see my weapons silhouette from behind the door, just as I could see her smaller stature. "Here, when you're trying to keep us safe, this'll help you."

From a slot in the door, a small vial filled with... blood falls into my hand. Blood. A vial full of fucking blood. What the hell? Is everybody here a psycho? "Why... did you give me blood?"

She asks in a confused tone, "Did you not come to Yharnam for it's healing blood?" She then shakes her head. "If you truly do not know, blood has healing properties, especially this refined vial." She explains as if teaching me about the newest math formula I need for the next test.

What the hell. Well, if... if I can get a healing potion, then even if it's fucking blood, I better power through. If I wanna get back home, which as implied due to my role as my worlds 'Champion', I better get through this place fast. I'll take anything I can get. "T-Thank you Iosefka. I'll be sure to visit every once in a while. I'm sure it get's lonely in there." I'm more visiting for my sakes but I'm not about to say that.

She giggles, an empty, hollow thing. As if this place has drained the life out of her. "Then I shall await you eagerly, hunter."

I smile, though it feel different from when I smiled before. You appreciate the happy moments in life far more after you experience dying. "My name is Mason."

"Then I pray for a good hunt, Mason." And with that, I descend back down the stairs, one person added to my previously empty list of friendly people in this place. Through the room and silently jumping over a operating table and I'm crouching behind the beast, it's loud feasting a nightmarish symphony to my ears. I shake as I approach but steady myself for what's to come. It is clearly already injured, it's leg is dripping from an open wound and a lot of bone is showing on it's back. I stand up softly and raise my extended cleaver before hammering it into it's spine.

I hear a satisfying snap as I feel most of the resistance give away and the beast falls to the floor. It's still for a moment but I see it claw at the ground, trying to find footing to get back up to kill it's attacker but I swing again, reaching it's decrepit head this time. When my cleaver retreats, it's covered in brain matter and blood, a showing of what I did.

It felt... good. Revenge, people say 'Oh, after you get revenge, then you'll feel hollow' and all the 'Revenge is bad' spiel but this was fucking awesome. I hated that thing and killing it gave me satisfaction on another level. I take a few breaths, the scent of blood in the air oddly sweet before I calm down enough to look forward into the next room. I take a step, my bots squishing the wet gore below me before I arrived in the next room.

Just as I was about to leave, I saw a shimmer in the corner of my eye. It came from a corpse and, after closer inspection, it is revealed to be a bag full of more blood vials, which I now know can heal me. Though the needles on their tips are concerning, I guess it's easier to inject into your thigh or something in battle than to drink it.

I then approach the front door and push it open.

And then I see Yharnam for the first time.

It is a gothic nightmare metropolis, buildings upon buildings, burying each other under complexes of stone and metal. Where I currently stand, a graveyard with two gates, one clearly locked, let's me see the gigantic bridge and the open man-made ravine, a rotten sewer at it's basin. I walk up to the metal gate and push it open, revealing a stone path, a dead horse and it's carriage at the end. I walk forward, seeing a light coming from behind another lost carriage.

I walk, my footsteps echoing in the expanse of processed rock and just as I was about to round the corner fully-

"AWAY! BEAST!" An axe slams into my shoulder, accompanied with the cries of a scared man.

"ARG! FUCK!" I swing my cleaver with my good arm, my gun having dropped to the floor as the nerves in my arm got cut from my brain. I got lucky, apparently, and cut they guys neck deep enough to kill him, the man, dressed in ragged clothes and gray hair sticking out from places where hair shouldn't be that long. I just killed a guy, a human being.

I don't think about it too hard right now as I take out a blood vial from the bag fastened to the belt on my him and pop open the needle, slamming it into my thigh. I definitely didn't hit a vein but whatever the fuck this is, it healed me. I could feel the flesh in my shoulder knit back together, the feeling in my hand returning along with that feeling of, like, a thousand ants crawling over my skin. Normally, that's just numbness but I can definitely still feel everything.

I fall on my ass grabbing my gun back in my hand as my mind reels. I killed that guy, he was probably just scared and attacked me on instinct. In this city, where there are wolf monsters, there's probably a warrant for action like that. I can't blame the guy or anything, so I just killed him. In cold blood. "Ohmygod." I ramble out in a panic.

Nine vials left. The smell of death isn't so bad when all the blood smells like flowers. Or chocolate or... anything sweet. I can't really describe it as anything more detailed than 'sweet'.

I lean back against the wood of the carriage and take a quick rest, my mind aching from the guilt. I never thought I was capable of that.

"RueEEEEEEE!" My tired eyes turn to the distant city buildings, their spiky and hostile architecture inspiring nothing but grief and hate. Whatever that high-pitched scream was, it not only blew my fuckin' ears out, it also sounds like it'll kill me for only being aware of it. I'm so glad I have a fear of heights because this high ass ladder so relaxing! Fuck, maybe throwing myself off this ladder is a good idea, but I'll be alive after that anyway, so no getting out of this guilt.

Man, I killed a guy.

But I have to move on, I doubt this place nurtures mental health. I'm a fighter, I always push forward. I killed but I know that I'm not a bad person inherently. I know that, so I can live with it. I don't kill for fun, if it wasn't for that accident, I wouldn't kill at all. But I think there will be people here with... less than good intentions towards me, so killing was inevitable in a place like this.

I reach the top of the ladder and see a lantern, the same one I woke up next to back in the sickroom. I see a small hatch and, seeing only one other lantern in the area, light it with a lighter I had on me for some fuckin' reason. This is such a crazy situation, I'm in a murder city, am immortal and have a gamer system. I think I'll go mad before doing anything of substance in this place.

The lamp lights up in blue fire and the small little guys come up from a soft gray mist. I hear raspy coughing from the building in front of me and I approach it's window. "Hello? Are you okay in there?" I ask, my voice... different from before.

"Ah-" He hacks out another cough. "I'm fine, just an old man in an older city. You're a hunter, right?" He asks, not rhetorically but with clear confidence.

I nod. "Aparently."

He chuckles with a clear rasp. "'Aparently'? Ha!" He coughs again. "Clearly, you're not from around here, are you?" I can almost see the smirk on his face.

I nod, no embarrassment on my face. I wouldn't take pride in being from here even if I was. This is a shithole. "Yes. My name is Mason."

He nods, the shadow showing just enough for him to effectively emote to carry this conversation. "I'm Gilbert. A fellow outsider. Heh, Yharnam has a very special way of treating guests. I don't think I can help you if my body wont permit it, but I'm willing if you want anything." He offers, something nice in this city of beasts.

I remember 'Paleblood' in that moment, how it was uttered by that deranged man and how it was scribbled onto that paper. "Do you know anything about Paleblood?" I ask.

He hums. "Paleblood, eh? Never heard of it, but if it's blood you seek, you should try the Healing Church. The church controls all knowledge on blood ministration, and all varieties of blood." He explains, some form of distain in his voice at the mention of this church. A church that administers blood? That sounds... good. Yeah, really favoring my odd right now.

I look at the closed gate to my left. "I'll be heading out now, thank you Gilbert." I tell the sickly man.

I chuckles, which quickly devolves into a cough. "Ah, no worries. Watch yourself out there, especially on a night like this." The cryptic goodbye is shelved for later discussion in my mind as I trudge on forward.

My cleaver rips through the clothes of another beastly man, tearing open his chest and spraying my old clothes full of the life giving liquid. Every time I take another one of the blood vials, the blood smells sweeter and sweeter, more desirable. It's probably side effects that are included, because why would I get anything without some kind of catch? I'm actually going insane and I've got nothing but monsters to keep me company.

I have only died once after talking with Gilbert, a torch was stuffed in my face because I overextended a swing and I think it burned by eyes or something because I knew I had them open, despite the immense pain, but still couldn't see the pitchfork coming for my chest. Being impaled is not fun, the foreign objects in your organs, if you ignore the pain, feel so terrifyingly strange.

I woke up back at the dream and could select the lamp I found next to Gilbert as a 'Spawn point'. The doll was as lifeless as ever, so I trekked back to where I died and killed the motherfucker with the pitchfork.

Now I'm in front of a pyre lighting a beast man on fire, some sort of ritual burning or whatever. There where a lot of dudes here when I first arrived but I picked 'em off one by one, luring them with gunshots that shot of their limbs entirely on occasion, if I aimed right. While my heart sends pangs of guilt still, I know that it's either them or me as my theory on their sanity has been disproven swiftly.

Their clearly mad somehow, clearly sane enough to speak and use weaponry but not sane enough to recognize another human being. And they're smart enough to plan an ambush. The last batch of bastards where hiding behind the carriage to my left, a rabid and equally monstrous dog held still until I rounded the corner. I was lucky that I swing it's jaw off with an extended cleaver, the rest falling with not too much struggle.

I only healed thrice and got more blood vials from their bodies. Though my bag only holds about 20, the little blue guys come from the mist and pick any up I can't carry, so they've officially cemented themselves as allies in my book.

You know, learning from your mistakes is easier when you can literately die and come back. I don't have a fighting style per se, I've developed more of an awareness for the battlefield and a know for where to hit for maximum damage. You know it's a good hit when something cracks or the enemy just collapses. It easy to learn then.

This place is shaping me, shaping me into something I didn't think I wanted to be.

A Hunter.

I guess it's why they call them that here, because we hunt. Hunt people infected with whatever is making them werewolves while draining their sanity. It makes us the most effective killers imaginable. Especially when you can't die. Then every death is an immense learning opportunity, even if traumatic and painful.

I can still feel how my heart stopped beating while I laid impaled on the dirty ground or how my intestines where being eaten by the rabid wolf.

I shudder as I crouch before the fire.

At least some of these guys had bullets, I was running out of those. When your greatest worry is your ammo supply, then you know you've changed.

There was something I can only describe as an ogre behind that door that kept rattling back at the pyre. I snuck past it, of course, just to face another group of insane men. But this time they had three dogs! Yay! I died to them, even! Getting my limbs pulled and my foot bit off slowly while a madman chops away at your stomach is not enjoyable at all.

But I returned. Again, having cleared the way this time as the mass of man men at the pyre was gone, only their corpses remaining, it was easier to return. I killed the dogs, using a Molotov I found on the way there to burn them, their rapid flails and jumps lighting their owners and partners on fire also. When only corpses remained, I took the stairs up to the bridge I saw earlier and saw two of the wolves from the Sickroom.

"No."

I simply refused and moved backwards until I reached a... pack(?) of 'Ravens'(?). They where birds... kind of. They didn't fly, not for long amounts of time. They behaved more like the zombie dogs than the normal ravens I saw nestled on top of lamp posts and buildings and the like.

One bit into my shin but I got it back good, splitting it's head open with a cleaver swing. I've also noticed that both my weapons and clothes repair themselves every time I die, which is terrifying. I've thought about killing myself to repair a crack in my cleaver from when I hit the walls accidentally and that's scary. I actually contemplated suicide out of convenience.

I need to get a grip on myself.

I retrieve my cleaver from the body of the mutated rat thing and look at the glowing object that was my prize. I managed to find a path besides the bridge by pushing some nailed shut coffins out of the way. Though it was no more friendly a part of Yharnam than the rest, the worst where the multiple dog packs. Thankfully, most of them stayed in their cages.

Most of them.

Anyway, I managed to find some kind of large storehouse with sewer access thing and killed the lanky beast men fucks that roamed it. Whatever that wheelchair guy did to me, I can tank far more than any normal human should be able to. I could fall down into the sewer level without even feeling the strain on my legs. He spoke of a blood transfusion...

I think there's more to the Healing Church and it's blood than I originally thought.

Nevertheless, I saw some sort of blue glow on the corpse of some poor fool and decided it was wroth investigating. Which leads me to my current situation, three dead rats around me and an actual human skull in my hand. It had a blue mist exuding from a crack in it's top and glowing eyes. Before I could shrug and out it in my bag of goodies, the blue glow suddenly shot towards my head.

"Ha-!" I couldn't even properly scream in shock before I saw a stary sky, unspeakable monsters and a stream of arcane knowledge. the flash of insight was gone and only it's memories remained. "What the hell?" I muttered as I fell into one of the canoes that lay still in the muddy water.

I feel something- know something new. I don't know what but something is different in my mind.

I reach down for the hands of the blue guys at the lantern near Gilbert., having circled back and opened the gate to get there easier after finding my way through this convoluted mess of a city. "I'll be leaving now, I'll see you later Gilbert." I shout from the lantern.

He chuckles before laughing as the unavoidable cough dies down enough for the old man to speak. "I shall await your visits with anticipation. I pray for a good hunt." And with that, I enter back into that garden.

My vision faded again before I stood back on the rocky path. The manor looms over me as per usual. But what was not usual was that the doll stood upright. She did the usual micro-movements that regular people did, except breathing of course. Her dollhouse clothing swayed in unseen wind and her pale skin reflected the moonlight gracefully.

"H-Huh?" I exclaim my shock through verbal communication.

"Hello, good Hunter." Her soft, comforting voice tells me as I approach. Did it just talk? Well- did she just talk? "I am a doll, here in this dream to look after you."

None of that explained anything. "Dream? And- and why are you alive?" I ask with an obvious stutter in my speak.

She nods at my question, having expected it. "I am given life to assist you hunters with anything you might need." She explains and I sit down on the stone ledge that the doll previously lifelessly laid in. She didn't answer what she meant by 'dream' but I guess you can call this limbo place whatever you want if you live here.

I sigh, still a bit creeped out at the fact that the human sized doll is actually alive. Well, as alive as a magic doll can be. "I've got some questions, if you don't mind." I begin.

She nods. "I may not have the answers you seek, but I will try nonetheless."

I lay my cleaver next to me on the rock and fasten the gun to my belt with a latch on it's side. "The little blue guys, what are they?" I ask the less important questions first.

"The Messengers, they revere you hunters and will help you just as I would. They are adorable, are they not?" It didn't answer where they came from or why they can travel through dimensions or whatever they do to traverse that gray mist throughout the world.

I look at the Messengers at the grave. "I can... kind of see that. They're like puppies, just much more wrinkly and humanoid."

The doll chuckles, her heavy British accent shining through as she began talking again. "I am glad you think so."

I blush for some reason. That's just... bad. It's a doll, why is it embarrassing me? "W-Well, what's going on in Yharnam?"

She raises her hand, fingers jointed with obvious craftsmanship, to her chin. "I do not come from the waking world, but I've heard that the city has been befallen by a beastly plague, turning man to monster." My mind had already picked up some of that, though the info that even those werewolves where once human isn't something I didn't want to think about.

"Last one, what's in the blood vials that they can heal me?" That question was apparently easier to answer for her.

"It is the old blood, derived from higher beings that was thought to be the solution to human evolution." That was... a lot of info. Higher beings? There's god in this world? And I'm drinking their blood? the healing Church is sounding less and less appealing with every second.

I stand back up even if my body protests. "I have to go back to hunting, I guess." Even when the images of slaughter and death flash before my eyes, I know that I need to reach the end of this. I was sent here for a reason and I'm guessing whatever I can gain from this place will be needed if I plan on stopping whatever the multiverse merge is.

"Ah, Good Hunter, I can help you in that regard." As I was about to bow down to the messengers, the doll spoke up with her soft voice. Like a blanket that protects me from the cold dark night of Yharnam. I turn to her. "The Blood Echoes, they can be turned into strength."

"Blood Echoes?" I outwardly ask.

The doll nods. "They are the memories and the spirit of those you slay, they hold arcane power that I have the skill to use for your benefit."

...I think I just found a way to level up. I nod. "How do we do this?" I ask her as I walk back up to her.

She gestures for me to take her hand. "Simply take my hand, Good Hunter."

I hesitate for a moment, a bit jaded against human companionship after what had been done to me and what I had done in kind. I close my eyes shut and touch her palm. It's cold, but oh so warm. Then, the system is back and apparently ready to be helpful.

Level 10

Blood Echoes: 2,123

Insight: 3

Vitality: 14

Endurance: 11

Strength: 11

Skill: 12

Bloodtinge: 7

Arcane: 7

Required for Level up: 829

The screen stays still in the center of my vision even as my eyes move. "A-Ah, you can see it, Good Hunter?"

I nod hesitantly, not entirely sure we are talking about the same thing. "Y-Yeah." I pretend that we are though, no need to make her suspicious. I'd like to stay in her good graces. I see that I have a required number for how many 'Blood Echoes' I need for a level up, which means I can increase a stat. I think?

I focus on my skill, being reminded of the two times I died because of the many openings I created and hoping that this 'Skill' is translated into technique and finesse.

I spend the required currency and feel the grip on my cleaver change, to become a bit more steady and tight. I feel my wrist loosen up a bit more, ready for sudden twists and turns as I feel my legs shift into a better stance. Not any marital stance, more something to keep myself on my feet. "That is all I can do for now, Good Hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world." The doll says as I am ripped out of my musings.

I stand back up and blink a bit, trying to find my bearings. "Y-Thank you." Another game screen shows up as I see that the manors door had opened.

You have completed the following quest:

[Tutorial Quest] Part 1

Welcome to [The System]!

The first thing you need to know is that the stereotypical functions of a gamer system are limited, adapted from the world around you. You will need a way to gain strength in the world you are currently in and the system will adapt.

Objective: Find a way to level up!

Rewards: Gacha Token [Machine] X1

Rolling Gacha!

[-]

You have unlocked [Ripperdoc Workshop]!

[Ripperdoc Workshop]

This is the workplace of the cybernetic working doctors of the far future of the 2070s. In here, you can use an automatous drone provided to help you in crafting, enhancing and inserting various cybernetic enhancements. You can recycle any recourses you find in your travels in a forge that is installed automatically.

Current Cyberware in storage:

Neuroport

Ballistic Compressor

Cyberoptic

I reel at the information. That's... from Cyberpunk. Now, I've barely played the game but I have watched the entire anime and read a few Fanfics- I know, I know- so I know enough about the universe to recognize that this is fucking massive. But for beast hunting... I need those implants installed immediately. i doubt this Victorian era world can deal with the enhancements I'm planning on getting. Imagine; Me, fucking up those wolves with a Sandevistan! This is what I thought of when getting the gamer power!

A rumble echoes across the courtyard as I feel the ground shaking. Just as I was about to contemplate where the hell this thing would even be, I turn around to where the stone road normally curves to the locked gate, to see a fork in the road that now leads to another, new part of this island. It was a square apartment level, as if cut out from the apartment complex with a knife and just plopped down here. It's flat on the roof and the walls are flat too, only their yellow-red paint and lines across make for some decoration.

All in all, it does not fit into this place at all.

I look over my back at the doll and see her wide eyes and slightly open mouth. I snicker to myself, around me, the stoic or calm kinds of people don't last long. I either say some out of pocket shit and make them choke or now... this. I shrug and enter the apartment.

It was about what I expected, red and gray painted walls, light all over and the futuristic look on all the furniture. There where three sets of rooms, the biggest room took the entire right and a bit of the left side of the rooms and had a white, sanitized floor. An operating table with all kinds of tools extending from it's stem like arms stood in the middle, different kinds of carts full of tools and supplies stood all around the room, scattered. There where rows of tables on the back wall, like a kitchen but for Cyberware.

A glass cabinet stood above the counters and a human hand with exactly my skin color along with a pair of black eyes lay inside. Standing on the right wall where two objects, a kind of closet but with glowing blue light emanating from inside and made of black metal, painted with red and white all over. To it's left there was a chest in the same style with the same glow about half the closets side. I approach said closet and, like a god damn transformer, it shifts open to reveal an empty, padded compartment. It was cold, icy steam flowing onto the ground in droves. I'm guessing it's used to store larger implants, like gorilla arms or some such.

Observing the chest, it's the same. Though this one has those bottles full of green, preservative liquid so I'm guessing it's to store actual limbs.

There where two doorframes on the right wall, one lead into a very small room just large enough to fit a human person. An that was kind of what it was used for, there stood a metal skeleton in the black and dark closet room thing. It was like the terminator just less... evil looking. The last room was made of gray brick and had a typical furnace in it's middle, blasting heat into the apartment.

"Wow. This is certainly something." I exclaim before I approach the skeleton. A panel reveals itself next to the doorframe and it displays a simple message.

Activate unit?

Y/N

I thought about if I was really ready to rip my fucking eyes out and cut my hand off to replace them with metallic parts... I've actually died thrice, I'm not really scared of pain anymore. This will make me an objectively better fighter and I'll need to use every tool I can. I pressed 'Y'.

A blue glow emanated from the eye sockets of the robot as a hologram flickered over it's skeletal body. A see-through version of a simply, gray human with no features at all walked out of the broom closet. "Orders?" I asks in an androgenous and metallic voice.

I blink for a bit but nod. "There are three Cybernetic replacements in this room, if you can, please..." I take a deep breath. "apply them to me." The robot nods and gestures for me to lay down onto the table.

The description of this workshop insinuated that I actually research and craft my own Cyberware but right now, I'm not in the mood to learn an entire field of future science.

The android came back with it's hand replaced with a syringe. Didn't know we had those. It pierced my neck and injected the liquid. After so many times of slamming a needle into my thigh, this was... noth... ing. Holy shit... im tired.

When I opened my eyes again, the room looked a great bit more vibrant and sharp, like I had upgraded my vision to a higher resolution. Which I guess I actually had. My right hand shot to my forehead as a headache more severe than an actual migraine I once had floods my nervous system. The metallic feel of the hand was not expected. I pull back and see that there was a haptic, carbon metal sheet that covered most of my palm with some exposed wiring in the middle and more metal parts visible at the base of my fingers. The Ballistic Coprocessor.

I saw that my suit and undershirt where missing and locate them in record time on one of the carts next to my table. I see the android standing by next to the thing. "Thank you, you can go back now." It nods and the hologram slowly fades back out as it re-enters it's charging station thing. The first thing besides the basic improvements I notice about my eyes is that I can zoom in and out, triggered by using something that felt like a muscle I never thought I had and just recently figured out how to flex.

Current Optical Systems Available:

Low-Light Vision

Infrared Vision

Vanity Applications

The red text appeared at the edge of my vision, though still clear as day. I think about activating infrared and my vision changes to the blue/red/yellow sight of the heat seeking spectrum. I saw the dark blue all around me, merging in the lockers and cupboards. A pool of red emanated from the blast furnace room and I deactivated the inhuman sight to return to the normal, what I am used to. "God damn." I take one of the robot arms on the operating table manually and aim it at my face, it's mirror letting me see my face.

My eyes where the deep black they normally where but, activating the vanity applications and thinking of red eyes, the color changed to a deep crimson. I smirked as I got an idea, a black circle with three commas orbiting the iris appearing. "There, now I've got a Sharingan." I chuckled to myself as I returned my eyes to the normal black they where and hopped off the table.

I put my clothes back on and as soon as I grab the cleaver with my right hand, a set of words appeared.

Name: Saw Cleaver

Condition: Used

It wasn't like the game, not even remotely but I guess I'll live with what I got. I then put my gun in my right hand and that got a better result.

Name: Pistol (Victorian)

Condition: Used

As I moved the gun, I knew where my shot would land, where I to shoot. I knew how to hold the gun to reduce kickback and even as I moved it back into my left hand, my Neuroport saved the scan and applied it to my right hand. Though the automatic recoil negation was now gone, I still had an invisible, instinctive laser-sight.

Just as I was about the exit the apartment to go check inside the manor, I felt dizzy. "Did... the Neuro...port fail?" I asked the air in a slur as I stumbled. The next second, I fell to the ground, unconscious.

I flew to a sitting position as I woke back up. Instead of the stone ground of the 'Dream', I was back in my bedroom. My eyes where still enhanced and I felt my gun and Saw cleaver still in my hands. "H-Holy shit." I was back home and I wasn't crazy, everything that happened in Yharnam was real...

I stood up and touched the soft floor of my room, much more comfortable than the hard stone of the bloody city. "W-What day is it?" Checking my phone, I wasn't gone for the days that it felt like. No, I simply slept a normal eight hours. "Do... do I return there when I sleep again?" Now that I had escaped the dream, I didn't want to return.

I knew I couldn't resist sleeping forever but I really didn't want to go back to Yharnam. I slowly stepped away from my bed as if it was a beast ready to strike at me, to drag me back into the nightmare before I bolted out of my room, locking the door behind me.

"What the fuck to I do now?"