The Strange and Fantastical Turned Me into an Otherworldly Species

I don’t like this kind of life.

Ever since more and more people became obsessed with these virtual dreams of negative bodies, I knew they were going mad.

I don’t think they’ll ever tire of this exploited immortality. As it turns out, they’re players seduced by arrogance and lust, devouring this world like a natural disaster. Oh, I’m sorry. It turns out they’re destroying their own world. The virtual process can’t be stopped. This damned era is giving them one last bout of madness.

Oh, world, I look forward to your destruction and rebirth. I’m just an ordinary person. Those beacons bonded with black holes are the ones sounding the horns of rebellion. They lead those fanatics in setting the forests ablaze, trying to snap the central pillars of order: the bedrock of society, the end of civilization, and finally the overthrow and rewriting of the world.

My face is black and white. The black is the filth of my appearance, my clothes stained and tattered, my body covered in sores. The white is the ash left behind as my mediocre soul burns itself, trying to claw back that last little bit of life.

Civilization doesn’t care, but I do!

The world doesn’t care, but I do!

Everyone is going mad, so I’ll go berserk!

The grotesque are wreaking havoc, so I’ll contain them!

I don’t care about myself. I don’t belong to this world; I’m just a stranger from afar. But I care about the things I’ve gathered here. They may be power, strength, or a doll I don’t want to give up.

So be it!

I’ll make the gift regret it!