I've always believed that I was born in the wrong era.

Despite the many conveniences that modern life affords us, life always seemed to be empty and bereft of any true sense of fulfillment.

For me, this feeling was caused by the lack of adventure and exploration left in today's world.

Humanity had mapped every corner of the planet leaving nothing left to discover.

Of course, one could argue that adventure and discovery still existed through the internet and traveling the world seeing the many sights, but that wasn't what I sought after.

Moreover, these things could only offer what I sought to those blessed with staggering intelligence or wealth sufficient enough to support their travels.

Besides, the adventures I sought were the fantastic tales found in video games, stories, and tv shows.

The discoveries I sought involved monsters, mysteries, and fantastical sights that would leave one in awe.

However, both of these things eluded me for my entire life. No matter how I tried to fill the void with video games and stories it was never enough.

After all, you could only complete so many quests and collect so much loot before you became bored with any one particular game.

When that happened I'd either stop and switch to a different game or take a break by binging a good story or tv series.

Nonetheless, I persisted, continuing my 'adventures' even as I muddled my way through college and matriculated to the workforce.

Sadly, I merely cruised through life as I reluctantly accepted my mediocrity.

With each passing day, my crazy wish of suddenly being gifted a cheat-like ability faded little by little until all that remained was a despairing void of depression and indifference towards life.

So when I died of a stroke at the ripe age of 31, I didn't feel any sense of loss or sadness at my death.

It was to be expected. I hadn't been to the doctor for anything beyond the mandated vaccinations in nearly 15 years.

Sudden and inexplicable chest pains, splitting migraines, and bouts of dizziness were just things that I had come to live with. Perhaps, deep down I wanted to die and the neglect of my physical health was just a manifestation of this desire.

My life was worthless and I knew it. Maybe, I could have been happy with my life if I'd made different choices in my life or if I'd never become disillusioned with mundane life.

However, things rarely are as you aspire them to be.

When all was said and done I lived a life that I couldn't call my own. I lived as a nobody and died as a nobody. My death was like throwing a pebble in the ocean… completely inconsequential.

My only regret in life is that I was born into such a bland world. A world in which discovery and adventure were nothing more than a distant relic of the past. A wishful dream for the so-called 'losers' like myself who couldn't properly adapt to the world in which they lived.

That's why the sight in front of me isn't nearly as scary as ought to be.