Chapter 3: Noctis[2]
Noctis stood in the dim lighted restroom, scrubbing off the dried blood from his hands under a trickle of cold water.
The mirror in the restroom reflected a stranger's face, short black hair streaked with blue, deep cerulean eyes and he was quite short for his age.
He wasn't in his room, not behind a screen. if he dies, he dies for real.
He died and woke up in this "Survival of an Extra" world—a brutal open world RPG, and in the body of a 12-year-old side character with no memories to guide him.
"This isn't just a game anymore, if I die here, I die for real.," he muttered, splashing water on his face, his voice trembling.
The reality of his situation weighed on him, Lamenting of the future events he would eventually face, and the absence of Noctis's memories doesn't make it easier.
He stepped back into the chaotic bedroom, taking in the wreckage of the previous Noctis's work.
The splintered furniture, torn books, and faint scorch marks on the walls, as if mana had lashed out in a frenzy.
The room screamed of an unstable mind.
"Just what were you going through, Noctis?", he whispered, brows furrowing as he sighed.
Moving to the closet, he pulled out a simple white shirt and black trousers, slipping them on, he looked at the cracked mirror, nodding to himself.