Hello everyone! I'm a totally new writer and upload my original story for the first time, so I'd like everyone who cares to read it point out my mistakes give suggestions and most of all involve themselves in my story, if given an interesting idea that does not go against basic lore I am perfectly willing to incorporate it, thus speeding up releases. I plan to release 2-3 parts a week, but work my hamper my plans.

Prologue

When someone says that his life flashed before his eyes he lies, this, unfortunately, I know now.

Such an event truly happens only once in your lifetime, only then you understand what kind of person you are, and what kind of person you could have been.

***

I, Paul Oaks, was born a normal child of a common family in an average sized town of around thirty thousand people.

First and only child of Sky and Vlad Oaks, an elementary school teacher and a builder/woodcraftsman, I was mostly your run-of –a-mill child who learned to read and write a bit earlier than most with the help of his mother and was more skilled with his hands like most of the men in his father’s side of the family.

My mother, Sky Oaks was a delicate, gentle and emotional woman, also a dedicated teacher who above all else treasured teaching children new things, which led me to be hammered with all of her teaching material and any other knowledge worth mentioning even before attending any sort of schooling institution, something I am eternally grateful for.

My father, Vlad Oaks, was almost a complete opposite, a rugged man of few words he valued creativity above knowledge, a common debate with my mother and the time he spoke most.

A son of long line of hard workers, be it farmers, loggers, craftsmen or builders, if it was done by hand, it was done to the utmost, as such my father always put his soul into his creations, be it a statute as small as a finger or an extensive house. He was the one who shown me the worth of hard work.

Unfortunately to most, as the gossips say, I took to father on the outside, both the stoic silent personality and bulky rough built, while inside having “a mothers gentle caring soul” they said, only later did I find out how problematic such traits combined were.

From my childhood I followed in my father’s footsteps and liked making things, playing and constructing things from blocks, later helping him with work, carving wood.

Growing up as a single child surrounded by objects that were carefully cared for or created with love, such as old but tidy books or carefully crafted chairs or wooden sculptures, I placed great care for things, not as much for people, growing to be a silent and gentle child, if a bit antisocial.

I found my first great hurdle as I started going to school, being the silent loner who liked reading more than playing around with others, I fell out of the circles of friends that started forming in the class.

At first this was not that much of the problem, but with time I showed myself to be far ahead of others in terms of knowledge, being an almost permanent number one not only in my class but the whole year. Such achievements quickly bore envy in others, due to the lack of friends to stand with me it soon became bullying.

At first I tried to endure though it, only for their actions to become worse. In the end with the urging of my father to use my strong build I took lessons in martial arts to defend myself even without the help of others, learning karate, boxing and even kendo from an old Japanese man who was a friend of father.

The old Japanese became our acquaintance after ordering a house to be built, in a year father and his crew finished a splendid house of mixed Japanese-western style architecture, earning friendship of the old man. While I took a liking to him during our kendo, or sword, lessons, learning much of eastern culture and increasing the subjects of my desire for knowledge.

While frequenting the gym to learn boxing and karate, inflicting hand-to-hand hurt upon others never became my forte, though I was talented enough to be quite skilled in them.

After absorbing these skills like a sponge I soon made short work of the bullies. Unable to hurt me anymore they chose to ignore me, to no loss for me, as I could now dedicate myself to studying and reading, learning many subject ways above my age.

After finishing school at the top of my cohort and entering university I changed a little, while I still did not need company, I no longer pushed people away, making a few good friends, joining botanist club and meeting my one true love, I was experiencing happiest days of my life.

Things changed at the celebration of my university graduation, surrounded by my friends and beloved, I was given a collective gift from them all – only recently announced new virtual reality technology based fantasy game Midgard.

While I knew of these games popping up with the announcement of VR technology few years back I had no need or wish to buy one. This very game was the thing that brought ruin to my life, I became enthralled by it. Such realism and freedom inside the game was out of my expectations, a “new world” for me to experience.

For four years I knew nothing besides work and this fake reality, my loving girlfriend left me due to lack of attention, I rarely spared time for our relax time, sometimes even ignoring her, my friends became distant, few still tried to have connections, as I myself was starting to disconnect from reality.

While retaining my work I did it only mechanically, without any real dedication, as such no promotions came for doing such half-heated job. Most of the money and time went to my gaming desires leaving me to eat fast foods ruining my form and health.

Only my aging parents drove to my house at least once every few months to have a look at me, clean up the house of garbage and dust it collected and check my failing health that got ever worse due to long hours inside the game.

But to me those were trivial things, I was the best, no one stood a chance against me in the game, I was both the conquer, hero and devil, Midgard was in my grasp, not even moderators and administrators could do a thing to me without cheating the system.

They even dared to check me a few times to be sure I was not cheating or using some sort of illegal means to fool them.

One unassuming day I got a call from my cousin, my parents on their way to my place got into an accident, a truck struck the side of their car, killing them instantly. I was lost for words, I thought this was some bad joke or a mistake, but the end of the call and that annoying signal woke me from this stiffness.

A great fear, sadness and eventually regret and despair overcame me, if I had not gotten into this cursed game, maybe my parents would not have gotten into an accident driving to check upon me in worry.

Overcome with such feelings I decided to change, turn back to the man I was, to regain my dedication for work in the stead of my father, and learn as much as I can in the stead of my mother.

In few days I sold off all the games and hardware to pay for the funeral services, organizing the whole thing, calling upon long lost friends and distant relatives to attend, stunning all those who already gave up on me, I said my goodbyes to my parents.

While my beloved girlfriend was already married and more than half of my friends moved on and refused my contacts I was still young, still had my life in front of me, enough experiences for three people.

On my way from the funeral however I met a shabby man, way worse even than me at my worst.

He suddenly approached and asked for a smoke, I took my package out only to see it empty, telling I have none, I suddenly felt a searing sensation in my abdomen, a butterfly knife was sticking in my body, weakened as I was from malnutrition and fatigue I was unable to use my martial skills I started polishing again.

Thus I was mortally stabbed by an addict robber, who after stabbing me searched my pockets taking anything of value, phone, wallet even my watch, pulled out the knife and ran into the side ally.

Looking at my life like a movie I could only mutter in my mind.

[Ahh, so it ends like this.]

Did I want to live, to finally start anew? Yes, definitely. Did I regret the life that I lived? No, not really.

[Shit, so I still cannot come to hate that cursed game.]

Those were the last thoughts of Paul Oaks age 26 [deceased] as he was being engulfed by the light, surrendering to its flow.