Asteria Online (1)
I awoke in a profound, tranquil silence.
Where... is this?
My mind felt hazy for some reason. Even though I'd woken up, my thoughts still wandered in a dreamlike haze. The world felt distant, and my ever-vigilant five senses were as dim as if submerged in the ocean depths. My memories were shrouded in thick fog. It reminded me of the hangover I'd experienced long ago.
But it couldn't be a real hangover. After all, the last time I'd touched alcohol was decades ago. Back then, in my black history of a past—the possession incident—I'd sworn on my sword never to drink again. So this had to be something else.
I calmly let my thoughts drift. Fragments surfaced from the sunken depths of my mind.
...Déjà vu.
I felt a sense of déjà vu. Sometime, somewhere, I'd been through something like this—felt this exact sensation. Not a hangover, of course. No toxins coursed through my body. Racking my brain through the long years, I wondered when I'd last experienced this.
Slowly regulating my breathing, I traced back my memories. Was it back in my immature days, when I was trapped in a demon's illusion, lost in a world of fantasy? No. The haze of illusion blurs the line between reality and dream with crystalline clarity. The more vivid the sensations a demon's illusion conjures, the harder it is to escape. That demon's magic hadn't been so crude.
Then maybe right after escaping the Void? That was somewhat similar. But not exactly. Those memories were far more horrific than this.
"..."
Or perhaps... when I awoke in that filthy alley in a girl's body? The thought hit me, and I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was a pristine white ceiling. Not the familiar sight of my cabin's thatched roof. So, an unfamiliar ceiling.
—Sruk.
I blinked slowly. My deeply submerged mind was gradually sharpening. The distant world drew near again, and my senses—smeared and blurred like watercolor in water—regained their clarity. With heightened perception, I felt the plush mattress beneath me. By its texture, it was undoubtedly high-end. Comparable even to the magic-engineered beds of nobility.
Hm.
Still lying in bed, I rolled my eyes around. Unfamiliar wallpaper and furniture with an oddly alien design came into view. Not a place from my memories.
Just then, warm sunlight streamed through the window on my right, piercing my eyelids and stabbing my eyes. I winced. Bad bed placement. So where the hell was this place...?
Ah.
Would you like to return to Earth?
Only then did the fog in my mind clear. Right—the translucent window floating before my eyes. I'd answered the question about returning to Earth. Then a brilliant light had flashed... and I'd lost consciousness? I vaguely recalled hearing a voice...
Shaking my head as I sifted through the memories, I decided it wasn't important. My recollections were fuzzy anyway, and my intuition told me it didn't matter.
At any rate, I'd pieced together the situation. If that 'message' hadn't lied, this was Earth. Was this my home? Surprisingly good service.
With that thought, I sat up and surveyed the room.
Where...
A bed, desk, wardrobe in the corner, and a chest of drawers opposite. That was all the furniture.
My first impression was simple.
Pretty barren.
The white walls and plain, unadorned furniture seemed designed purely for utility, devoid of any aesthetic sense. Moreover, the room felt oddly sterile. It had the essentials for living, but no signs of actual habitation. As if no one had ever lived here before.
...Well, it probably had been empty. If that 'message' stemmed from some transcendent law or system, it wasn't strange. System might be the more accurate term.
Anyway...
Next, my eyes fell on the ID card, wallet, and smartphone on the desk.
"Ha."
Seeing them neatly arranged for easy discovery made me chuckle inexplicably. Did even that... System have some consideration? Doubtful. Maybe there was a manual for returnees like me. Pure speculation, though.
Musing idly, I picked up the ID and phone.
Lee Yuri
()
360517 – 4******
"...2053?"
My eyes widened slightly as I checked the phone. The date was unexpected—not because it was in the future from my Earth's memories. Time must have passed while I was in another world. But comparing it to the birthdate on the ID revealed something intriguing.
I'm a minor...
18 in Korean age, 17 in international. I could guess why it was set to 17—my youthful appearance dictated it. What a pointless consideration. Why not just make me an adult?
...Now I was rejuvenated not just physically, but legally too.
Did that mean school? My hazy memories recalled mandatory education only up to middle school. I had no desire to attend high school at this age. Nor confidence in passing the GED. I doubted even if my fabricated identity had elementary and middle school diplomas.
The System probably handled it.
The wallet held some cash and two cards. Counting the bills: one, ten, twenty... about 200,000 won? Good—the considerate System hadn't sent me back penniless. I'd have to check the bank balance, but I wasn't worried. If it made me a minor with limited earning options, it would've padded the account generously.
If it has a conscience.
I nodded silently. Finally, my gaze settled on the computer on the desk. I had good reason to seek it out.
Between my possession and now lay about 30 years. Time enough for the world to change thrice over. The society I knew must have evolved—presidents, celebrities, science, tech, social vibes. Nothing strange if it was unrecognizable.
And the best way to gauge those changes? The internet, undoubtedly.
I examined the computer.
"Hmm..."
As expected of the near future, its design differed sharply from what I remembered. Sleeker, perhaps? I couldn't judge performance, but it had to be leagues better than my old one. Thirty years of relentless progress guaranteed it.
But that sparked a minor issue.
How do I turn this on?
...I couldn't find the power button. Wasn't it usually on top of the case? Why no button? Nothing on the back either. No ports for cables? Were modern ones fully wireless?
"Ugh..."
Groaning as I fiddled with the case, I eventually gave up and grabbed the smartphone. Internet worked on that too. Whatever I didn't know, I'd search.
Accessing the browser, I typed into the search bar:
How to turn on a computer.
A while later, in an exhausted voice, I said,
"Power on."
...Voice recognition, huh.
***
Finally, I gazed at the humming machine.
—Whiiiir...
Even my transcendent senses barely caught the faint startup noise. Ordinary people wouldn't hear it at all. Technological progress in the details.
—Pop.
The monitor lit up after a pause, displaying a logo unlike any OS from my vague memories. Makes sense after 30 years.
The desktop was bare save for basics. At least internet worked—otherwise, I'd have abandoned the computer. That 32-inch monitor and stylish rig would've become dead weight. Sad thought.
—Tap, tap-tap...
Before the search bar on-screen, I slowly pecked at the keyboard. Korean input felt alien after so long—like deciphering a foreign tongue.
First search: this world's history. Was it a parallel Earth like mine? Unknowable if parallels existed, but worth checking.
...Fortunately, it matched my memories. Reviving faint recollections, I searched on: presidents, celebs, conglomerates, SNS, music trends, latest phones, politics, global affairs, communities...
I cataloged the info methodically. No unification with North Korea, falling birthrates led to female conscription, some chaebols bankrupt—stuff like that. Some fascinating, some irrelevant.
Suddenly, a chilling thought struck.
...Wait, do I have to enlist too? They wouldn't draft an orphan, right?
Horrid notion made my skin crawl. If so, I'd swear on my sword to behead the System that made me a minor.
"...Hm?"
That's when a familiar term caught my eye. Atop the portal site on my monitor: a flashy sword-illustrated ad in ornate font drew me in.
Discover a new world unlike reality!
Asteria?
I tilted my head.
...Oddly, it matched the name of my dimension exactly.