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Tutorial Rewrite 22
🕑 Added 2023-01-07 16:03:22 +0000 UTCNo, it isn’t just a door, it’s… It’s my door.
But we moved out of that house when I was like nine, why would…?
<You have learned:
Heat Tolerance Lv.10>
<You have learned:
Heat Resistance Lv.1>
Yeah, that’s… man, it is hot. It feels like my skin’s on fire, and still I’ve got Heat Resistance. No pun intended, but it really does feel like I’m standing in front of the door to Hell. Except that it’s my door. The door to my childhood bedroom. I want to ask why it’s here, but this is some weird tutorial looked on by weird gods, so what’s even the point?
More importantly, there are no more flowers. I must have eaten them all while I was asleep or something.
<You have learned:
Hypnagogia Lv.7>
Yeah, I get it, but it still feels anti-climactic.
There is seriously just a door right there. Stuck in the rocky wall of the furthermost edge of the rugged pass like a badly placed prop. It looks completely out of place, and it’s even worse because of the—you know. It’s my door. It’s even got the little poker face sticker my sister put on there just before we moved.
<Tutorial stage,
Hell Difficulty Second Floor
Boss Stage>
<[Clear Condition]
Open the door and enter within.>
I just need to open it? Is that seriously it? Considering that Moleman made literally no mention of the boss, I guess that really is the whole deal. Open a door. Is it even locked? Is there something in it? Will it explode in my face? What is the purpose of living? All very good questions. But, before that, I want to check two things.
<Top—Status—Community>
<10:00:05
Day 70>
<The fourth attempt will begin in
20:13:59:55>
It’s only been like ten days since I came here, but since there is physically nothing more for me to do since all the flowers are eaten and all that, I guess I should just get to it. But, first, I wanna meditate slightly. I’ve been kind of out of it this entire floor, so I haven’t really looked for it, but… Yeah.
Sitting down on the ground, I close my eyes and meditate.
After only a minute or so…
<A Canto appears to you.>
Alright, let’s see if it’s any different this time around.
<[O muse, o alto ingegno, or m’aiutate;
o mente che scrivesti ciò ch’io vidi,
qui si parrà la tua nobilitate!]>
Uhuh. Uhuh. Um… It’s different? But still Italian. The only real difference here, though, is that it almost says “miau” on the first line. You know, like a cat? Miau? No? Okay.
Sighing, I break the meditation and stand up. The door is right in front of me. An almost burning heat is emanating from it. I step towards it, holding out my hand to the brass doorknob, letting my palm hover over it. I haven’t touched it yet, but the warmth coming from it feels like holding your hand over a flaming firepit. It’s not going to kill me, right? It’s just a door. There’s no need to be afraid. Just open the door.
Simple.
I grab the doorknob.
<The Goddess of Want
is disappointed.>
Fire.
Burning. My hand erupts into flames and my skin melts off and my flesh melts off and my bones start to crack from the heat but I can’t let go and within mere seconds the fire eats more and more and more and more of me, snaking up my arm, leaving my skeleton black and cracked, up to my shoulders, through my entire rib cage, making my chest empty, down my pelvis and legs, making all of me black, and then up through my neck and spine, turning it black like the keys of a piano, and then the fire reaches my skull and I explode into black dust.
“If you don’t want the salmon, I can heat up some of yesterday’s
chicken for you, son. You don’t need to eat it if you don’t want to.”
No, I need to eat it, mum. It’s good for me, and you spent all evening making it. Wouldn’t it be mean of me not to eat the fruits of your hard labour of love?
“You’re so mature for your age.”
Thanks, dad. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. Love you, dad, mum.
“When did you turn so sappy, brother?”
I don’t know, sister. I suppose I’ve learned to appreciate life. I mean, it’s so feeble, you know? One day it’s here, and the next, it’s all gone.
“Like your pro-gaming career?”
My sister snickers.
It might sound weird, but… I don’t think I miss it. Being a pro-gamer wasn’t good for me. It made me mean, and vindictive, and when it all came tumbling down, I really did become the worst version of myself. But now, I’m better. Working down at the store with you, dad, makes me feel like a valuable member of society. Like I’m actually useful.
My dad smiles.
“You’ve always been useful, son. I’m sorry if
my words ever made you think the opposite. I was just worried for you,
because I care. Not because I don’t want you to be happy,
but because I didn’t believe that your happiness laid
in gaming.”
And you were right, dad. It didn’t. I just thought it did, because it made me feel blindly superior over those who were playing the game because they liked it. In hindsight, I don’t think I ever actually enjoyed a moment playing it. I was always just searching for the next piece of strong gear because I wanted to beat down those who actually enjoyed the game. All and all, the entire obsession just boiled down to an inferiority complex taking the form of undue hatred. It was wrong of me to take it out on you, dad. And you too, mum. And sis.
My mother giggles.
“Now you’re talking gamer-lingo again, son. Can’t you
leave the work-talk for after dinner?”
Oh, come on, mum. I’m not technically a pro-gamer anymore, so it’s hobby-talk rather than work-talk, wouldn’t you say?
We all share a laugh.
I thank God in my heart that
instead of foolishly lashing out,
I instead shook his hand, and gave him
my title with grace.
It was the best decision of my life.
Mum, dad, sis… I love you all. Thank you for being in my life.
“I love you too, son.”
“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it enough,
but I love you too, son.”
“Ew, stop being so sickly sweet!
Though, in the end… I guess I love you too, bro.”
Mum smiles.
Dad smiles.
Sis smiles.
I smile.
A screen appears before my eyes.
<[Do you want to die?]>
…What?
