In a quiet room, you could hear a pin drop.
A boy, too beautiful for the world's standards, lay still on the bed.
His name was Elias Veyne—a PhD student in the Department of Psychology. Slowly, he woke up, but his eyes remained closed.
Elias's first sensation wasn't light, or sound, or scent.
It was stillness.
A stillness so perfect it felt unnatural—like a moment frozen in time. It lingered in the air, fragile and expectant, like breath held before a conductor's baton falls.
Eventually, Elias opened his eyes.
Not startled. Not scared.
His mind activated with the precision of a machine booting up. He scanned his surroundings with quiet clarity: wooden beams overhead, warm amber walls, rustic furnishings bathed in soft lamplight. A firm bed in a cottage that looked like something from a fairytale—too picturesque to be real.
And it wasn't.
He recognized it instantly: an artificial environment.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with untitled, ancient tomes. A kettle sat on an unlit stove, steaming without heat. The air smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon… tinged with the sterile charge of ozone, like the scent that follows lightning.
The room exuded warmth. But to Elias, warmth was just another data point.
He sat up. His feet met the wooden floor soundlessly. No creak. No echo. No doors, no windows. No sound from outside. The whole place felt like a painting still being brushed in.
"This isn't a dream," Elias said aloud. "Nor is it death. Could this be a cognitive simulation? A virtual field?"
He spoke calmly. No emotion broke through—only analysis.
Elias Veyne was a sociopath.
Not in the exaggerated, villainous sense, but with a quiet, clinical detachment. He studied empathy as a scientist studies combustion: intrigued by the flame, but untouched by the heat. People were puzzles. Fascinating, but foreign.
And then, something shifted.
Above the fireplace, light gathered. Motes swirled and pixelated into a coherent form.
A glowing interface screen assembled from floating panels and shimmering particles.
Then came the voice:
[Welcome, Elias Veyne. You have been chosen as the Anchor Host of the Avatar Deployment System.]
After a beat, the screen displayed a grid of faintly glowing empty slots.
[System Functions:
Create up to 22 Avatars.
Each Avatar embodies a unique Beyonder Pathway.
Avatars will be deployed into the foreign world of Re: Zero – Starting Life in Another World.
Their experiences will be streamed to this space.
The Host may interact with the foreign world through them.
Avatars retain their own emotions. You, the Host, will synchronize their memories—but remain unaffected emotionally.]
[Think of them as your descendants.
Avatars retain their memories through foreign timeline resets.]
Elias raised a brow.
"Re: Zero."
A name flickered from a long-forgotten memory—a Japanese anime known for psychological trauma, death loops, and raw human struggle. A protagonist who died again and again, each time clawing forward through horror and growth.
"An ideal subject for observation."
The system continued:
[Initial Authorization Level: E.
1 Avatar Slot available.
Remaining Slots require Emotional Points (EP) to unlock.
EP is gained through the Avatar's reputation. Named characters yield more EP.]
"A reputation-based progression system," Elias murmured. "Simple reinforcement feedback loop."
The screen spiraled with symbols—22 cards representing distinct Beyonder Pathways. Only one glowed gently, indicating availability.
"Beyonder…" Elias repeated.
His mind flipped through data. "Lord of the Mysteries… Klein Moretti?"
A chime.
[Affirmative.]
[The Beyonder Pathways are based on the Lord of the Mysteries framework. Each Sequence, from 9 to 0, increases power—but also madness.
Only those who overcome the insanity can become gods.]
Elias crossed his arms, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
The system, reading his thoughts, offered more:
[The Host will never be harmed.
Avatars are eternally loyal—to you, as either Master or Father.]
"Hmph. Boring," Elias said coldly. "What about rituals, potions, psychological strain? The original Beyonders weren't given immunity."
[Your Avatars endure the full challenge.
They must find ingredients, perform rituals, master their Pathway—and pay the price for power.]
Elias gave a slow nod. "Good. Let them suffer."
He didn't mean it cruelly. It was clinical. Controlled suffering produced data. Pressure made diamonds.
Then, one card shone brighter than the rest.
[Available:
Pathway — Sun
Sequence 9: Bard]
"Let's see if charisma and radiance can cleanse a world that devours hope," he said softly.
[Please name the Avatar.]
"…Lucien."
[Acknowledged. Avatar 'Lucien' has been created.]
[Deployment in 3… 2… 1…]
The interface pulsed. A golden thread of light unraveled into the void.
Elias watched without blinking.
Let the experiment begin.