No banner bright nor trumpet marks their tread,
No oath is sung where mortal ears may hear;
Yet whispers coil where trembling words are said:
"They cometh when thy crowns are shadowed most by fear.
Thou art warned by frost even in desert sands, beware the crimson in their hands."
Hail, hail, hail. Hail the men of snow and red, trample those that stand against.
The fields grow still beneath their silent feet, all be unbirthed when they are the ones you meet.
Mothers will hush their babes with quiet dread,
Of pale-cloaked men who walk in moonlight dim, she read;
"Be still, lest they should find thee in thy bed,
For none once taken e'er return from them."
No names are carved for such as these to bear,
No tombs will hold the ones who march will care.
For if thou feel'st the chill of unseen hand,
Then thou art marked-and shalt be joined in a crimson land.
Nothing remains. Boundless and bare.
Nothing can stop them. Not even the crying hare.
...
..
.
A beautiful day. Dim sun shining its rays through the window, people aloud with their voices with different appearances roam the street even through the winter of snow, the artificial light inside this home stabbing his eyes just as he woke up.
Truly, the perfect situation for someone that just acquired memories that may or may not give them identity crisis. Who thought that giving a person a batch of over 24 years of life experience can simply walk it off? The people who are orchestrating this O' so familiar project that is too identical to a college research paper.
But it is what it is, even when your mind is still recuperating from the mind gymnastics of identity. The answer is always the omnipotent choice of ignoring it all. What use is racking your head to a question with an answer of 'I am who I am'?
"Damn it..." Pinching at the bridge of his nose at the still lingering effect of a migraine, he took a do-over look at the room.
Futuristic and white, that is all he can say. White wall, white ceiling, white center fireplace beside the two couches. An absurd amount of non-variety of white, the exception being the floor, colored books on the white book shelves and few other decorations that, if new memories are right, he bought recently. He almost thought it was the inside of a padded asylum. Weird that this is the middle-class level of an apartment, at least it has a large space. As expected of an alien planet with advanced technology, I suppose.
His eyes turned down to the glass circuitry table, a cup and a bottle of red wine, a closed letter at the bottom of the drink, and a thick book.
He turned his gaze up to a rapid moving screen, this one outside the nature of this new world and more so inside the nature of his new job as a so-called participant. Words he briefly read in the rapid typing of other's.
[12-109: Hello anyne ther?]
[19-109: Learn to spell, dude.]
[35-7: Is this the global chat? What server?]
[13-87: (Text Inappropriate)]
[13-87: Ass (Text Inappropriate) (Text Inappropriate) Bitch Wonker Kill (Text In... [Expand].]
[12-109: So what im getting is we dei and we got take but we like genshin power and here different sa... [Expand].]
[19-109: Learn to spell you dumb (Text Inappropriate). And this is irl, not your overused fantasy.]
[33-99: Guys, you can livestream. Are we secretly a black virtual entertainment company that's going to get... [Expand].]
[19-109: F uck]
[16-11: Guys, anyone knows where I am? My minimap I got says I'm in Caelid, I think the sky is bleeding.]
[2-9: What's happening in here?]
[2-99: May chaos take over the WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO... [Expand.]
"Ahh..." The sigh he gave out was heavier than he thought. Damn headache still won't go.
Ignoring the chaotic mess the... global chat? Multiversal chat? is becoming. He decided to at least read the piece of parchment, he added more wine to be sipped as he read.
It was a brief further explanation of his situation and background check. A white card and an I.D card are also inside.
Inspecting the I.D card, the familiar look of his face in younger years and the name of Ramieleß Nidhoggr plastered on it... Very original and creative naming, huh? I sure hope it isn't just the trait plastered in it. Thought John Transmigrationᵀᴹ. The other is his credit card.
Putting away the two, he reads the paper attached to the letter.
-Good morning, evening, or night, dear participant.
Although, you may have already know your situation with new memories to busy yourself with. It is still proper propriety to send this letter for you to know your situation via in letter format.
Your background identity is influenced by one of your curse, 'Bad Blood', where your family history is marked by what society call 'bad'. In your case, it is the history of your family being one of the higher opposition to the current ruling of the galaxy. Another influence is 'Orphan', self-explanatory.
You are one of the last of your kin, Saurians, in the clan of Nezhogs. You, being the last of his branched clan of Saurians and the a mutation of his race via the Nidhogg trait given, are the child of a Charmianian mother and a Nezhog Saurian's father with the full name of Ramieleß Gabritas Nezhog. The Nezhog parentage have been executed, your Nezhog father and the Charmian mother have died by a car crash assassination.
Your identity of being their child is hidden, being taken to a different world and raised by an orphanage, you have taken yourself out of the center after graduating from a state issued education.-
Flipping the paper to read more, he took a sip of the wine, only to be disappointed by the lack of taste. "Pity, no taste. No enjoyment for food is brutal now that I'm experiencing it." Touch his tongue for an inspection, he found he couldn't feel any sensation. A puff of dissatisfied exhale was let out.
His gaze turned to the half empty bottle of wine. He would later be disappointed at the vain attempt of drunkness.
-With your skills in fine arts in your last life, we took that as a reference to this one. You went out to sell various paintings and musical services to clients who took your offer. Resulting in popularity of your services in your musical by piano and violin. The fact that you're that good already in your previous life is quite a surprise. The skill will enhance your talent and speed of progress now that you have transmigrated.
We cannot find any leeway for your familiar, we have decided that you can find it in a different planet's facility. Subject of an experiment, it was made from various tests for a biological weapon, only to be labelled as a failure. This is the decision made from the effects on 'Unfamiliar'.
You are able to feel where they are briefly in random sequences.
The Tome of the Starscourge is the book next to this letter. Containing gravitational magic and Starscourge Radahn's studies on his specialized magic and his history.
Addendum. You're actions can supply you with more rolls in the gacha. Dependent on your actions and how potent the effect of its consequences, you can acquire high categories for more.-
Putting down the empty bottle he throws the letter to the burning hearth of the fireplace after he rereading it again in the case he overlooked something.
Laying back down on the couch he rearranged his thoughts on the situation and his current predicament.
The situation he is thrown can be considered fortunate. Another chance at life, a job being just simply to exist, and ridiculous amount of power. All of it and the exchange is just being alive.
But the predicament is, he is used to working and now he is asked to just do what he wants to do, that want being to laze around. But once again, he is used to working that not doing paperwork nor running his mouth is simply alien to him. The aspirations of adventure and being given the epithet of a hero has long since been outgrown.
Even the knowledge of this Ramieleß' life, he didn't took on the desire for revenge or anything similar the him of here has. He isn't the one who experienced everything this person has, only the memory.
He is neither a hero nor a saviour, much less an avenger. Simply a man doing his can and can't.
Even then, he doubt he would meet the perpetrators of the killing. And goodness, much less the crowned king of the galaxy if he feels extra. There are approximately an estimated 400 to 600 billion of planets in a single galaxy, it would take too much time and even if he does know, what would he do to someone who united the galaxy?
There is too large of a political gap if he did somehow succeed. But succession rights and conquest driven law in this milky way makes things complicated and brutal.
He doubts he is related to them anyways.
But If including the Nidhogg trait, and the possibility of more advantages with the help of his new interdimensional employer, the percentage of proba- no no no, let's stop that too complicated thoughts. This is a new life, there isn't anything that will do things to you if you're peaceful.
"Sigh... This would've been different if I was younger." The thought of his younger self running around making a mess made him chuckle.
Maybe a splash of water could help him think about something to replace his workaholic habitual thoughts.
It took him no time to find the bathroom in this new abode he has. He would have been staring at a different textured wall if this familiar yet foreign memories didn't exist. But he knows that he would have to be accustomed this new set of self. Hn, maybe that's one to think about as a replacement.
Huh, the entirety of a single wall is a mirror, how uneconomical. Just a regular mirror could have been more efficient. It is fancy but too wasteful. Maybe it's alien culture or something else?
The face that looks back in the mirror is a face he buried, young. Red eyes and blond hair, but there is some difference in what he once knew, hair is paler than it once was and eyes more... Nevermind.
But the figure there is skinny- no, not skinny. For other's, it might maybe be an average build, but from where came from, it would be small,too small.
"Maybe I could do something about that." Hurray, another thing to do than swirl his mind in work thoughts!
And this isn't even after washing his face, after that, he might be full of ingenious thoughts of to do!
Wiping the water, his head is now more clearer after washing away the lingering effect of a head beating induced sleep.
...Ah right. He actually does have a job of being a freelance musician and slash or painter. The magical tome too.
Heck, he has bigger talent now, painting and making music can also be a hobby.
Huffing at that. "Hn. Rearrange my memory, grow more muscle, find clients to hire me, magic learning, paint and do music. A good thing to start with." A good enough things to start with in this new life.
Now the thing to do is to act on it.
Stretching, he made the decision of going out to buy some painting utilities and an easel. There is already a set of violins in his room if new found memory serves right.
Taking the tome with him to read on the way, he dresses up to leave this apartment and go for simple shopping walk.
This will be a peaceful life.