Chapter 2: Fractured Worlds
Nimin startled awake. A splitting headache slammed against his skull. Grabbing his head he winced, but then paused. His hand felt strange, certainly not normal.
Moving his hand to his sight he noticed it looked different. He couldn't quite explain what was different, but he knew for a fact it wasn't the same. As a professional gamer he was very particular about his hands. If at any point they were injured it could impact his career. So care was common when it came to hands.
Moving to the bathroom he splashed some water on his face to help with the headache. Looking up at the mirror he nearly fell backwards from surprise.
"The hell?!"
This was him? But he looked so. . . youthful! This innocent appearance devoid of the influence of time. It was like he was in the past!
Then he spoke like he was hypnotized, "I must. . . remember."
The memories crashed against him. Yes he remembered. The strange doll-like eyes that stared at him despite being so lifeless. Their strange words, and his bold claim.
Rapidly checking his phone he frowned. This wasn't something like returning to the past. Rather it was simply the day after yesterday. This was still the present. It was like he drank a potion of youth!
This was a dream right?
Moving faster than he could remember being able to he zipped to a computer and booted it up. Loading a training program his team developed a while ago he rapidly tested his reflexes. As his fingers flew across the keyboard at a blinding speed he couldn't help but laugh helplessly!
It was true! This feeling couldn't be a dream! His youthful reflexes have returned! If he had this speed during the competition. . . couldn't he have won?
Slapping his cheeks he shook his head, "No! Can't get carried away."
This came at a price, he remembered now. If he failed he would experience true death! His life, his legacy, everything he had earned over the years was now at stake! He hadn't believed it was possible, to give someone back their youth. Perhaps if he knew the cost, if this whole ordeal was real, would he have accepted the offer?
"There's. . . too much to think about!"
He had two years! He needed to somehow return to the professional scene and win the championship in a mere two years! Normally that would be fine, but he just retired! Having access to the resources provided by a top team would've made it a cake walk, but he just gave up on that privilege!
More importantly, how did he explain this sudden change? Makeup? His physical body changed too, that couldn't be faked. If word got out he would be in a lot more trouble. Maybe even some organization would kidnap him to experiment!
"I'm still in the hotel room. I have to leave quickly!"
The championship was hosted in a city far from his home. So his team booked a hotel to stay at for such an event. After the events last night he awoke in this hotel, and his former team was in the neighboring rooms.
Leave! Leave quickly!
Opening the door he noticed a box at the entrance. He almost tripped over it in a rush to escape the hotel. Written on the top of the box the words 'to help with your trouble' were written in oddly perfect handwriting.
Nimin was about to ignore this box when he heard another door open. Afraid to meet his former teammates he quickly moved the box inside and closed the door. Locking it shut he sighed as he heard the footsteps move past his door.
Eyeing the box he figured he should open it first. Sliding it open he noticed a few items carelessly strewn about. Inspecting the items individually he frowned at each one.
First was an ID card. This held information similar to his own, but with a new picture and date. The picture looked like his current appearance, and the date would mean he was. . . eighteen? How youthful indeed!
The next was a note, which he placed aside for now. The other was a strangely shaped usb stick. Feeling it on his fingers he frowned, "This is. . . an account stick?"
Opening the note he read its contents to figure out what was going on.
(To help with your trouble. Revealing your newfound youth would bring me heaps of trouble, so I have to add another catch to our agreement. If anyone finds out you're Nimin, you'll suffer an early erasure.
To help with this I have provided this identification card, the name is currently blank. If you think of a name it will fill it automatically. Do not worry, it is not forged.
Do not forget our agreement. I have given you an additional gift so you can remember.)
"A name?"
Balancing the ID card on his fingertips Nimin thought deeply. Sighing he felt his head drop, "I can't name! Screw it, Cole Sworn."
(Author Note: My apologies to the Coles, the Sworns, and the Cole Sworns.)
Words magically appeared on the ID. Reading it over Nimin was immediately filled with regret, "This name! Maybe I could've went with something nicer?"
No point in crying over spilt milk. Besides he still had the issue with leaving! At least with this he didn't have to worry about frantically trying to prove his identity. Placing the card in his wallet and into his pocket along with the note and Account stick, he then slipped through the door and left through the elevator.
As he walked out of the hotel he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy feeling the youth in his body again. What a feeling! To think he once took this for granted. How foolish.
Nimin then busied himself with thoughts on how to deal with the rising issues. Dorm rooms were provided by the team, and he couldn't temporarily join his parents until he found a place to live. Funds weren't an issue, although he never won a championship he wasn't a simple pro player. Rather he was a core member of the team! His salary wasn't low at all, although his appearance in advertisements had been falling the past few years.
With plenty of money to live through these two years, Nimin was forced to figure out how he was going to solve his current predicament. His train of thought was rapidly interrupted by a loud yell coming from the building next to him. Startled he looked in the direction it came from.
A figure lowered their head, "Sorry! It was a horror game."
Shaking their heads several people turned their attention back to their screens. This buzz of light and activity was home to a familiar place. An internet cafe! Usually these weren't in business that much anymore, but since this place was often visited for the championships an old business like this was able to thrive.
"Oh this will work for a bit."
Walking inside he approached the clerk casually, "I need a private room."
"Rate is hourly, sign on the back."
"Just two hours."
"Card or cash?"
"Card."
"Swipe here."
The unfriendly clerk pointed at a machine and spoke plainly. Paying without complaint Nimin was given a keycard. The clerk pointed at some stairs without looking, "Rooms are on the second floor. Find the door with the matching number on the card."
"Thank you."
Moving up the stairs Nimin quickly got situated in his room. Moving to the computer he moved the mouse to wake it up from its sleep, "Right then, let's find a place to live for now."
Finding a browser icon he paused at a familiar picture. This picture was to none other than the game he played for the past few years. A game named Fractured Worlds.
An intense first person rpg known for its learning curve. Originally when the game launched it faced harsh criticism for its overly complex controls and unneeded difficulty. Despite this some players fell in love with the difficulty and began to explore its capabilities.
Eventually one clip on the internet gained heavy traction and returned attention to the game. After people fought past the learning curve they were greeted with a surprisingly in depth game with a lot of complexity. As its popularity reached higher, eventually competitions began to take place. More and more people grew interested at the ridiculous movements people were able to make due to the game's complexity. Then one keen company expanded their horizons and partnered with the developers to make an official competition.
This was a smashing success and the game only grew in popularity. Nimin had joined during its initial rise and also fell in love with its freedom and complexity.
In order to generate more revenue, the game had you purchase a copy through Account sticks. Thus different accounts would require money through another copy. This wasn't the only way to change up your account however, for they also allowed you to wipe your current progress if you wanted to restart.
Account sticks were these usb sticks with interesting designs. Every year the design would change, and you could often tell how long someone had been playing depending on the design of the Account stick. The Account stick put in the box was part of the second year of release, around the time it's popularity was beginning to rise.
Tapping his forehead a few times he decided to plug in the Account stick. He had purchased two hours, checking out the account given to him wasn't an issue. It wasn't like he was planning to play right now, that would come later.
Booting up the game and logging in he became surprised at the name of the character. Originally he toyed with the idea of using the account he used in the professional competition. That would reduce the workload significantly. However risking any contact with those used to his true identity was a bad idea.
As for the name of the character, he was quite familiar with it.
(Critical Shot - Gunner LVL 50)
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone