Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

The passage of time felt like an ominous crawl. With every second, the calm that blanketed the battlefield seemed less like a reprieve and more like a prelude to chaos. The air shifted—an almost imperceptible change that only someone as attuned to Carcosa's peculiarities as I was could sense.

The Ordeal of the Midnight was moments away, and with it, the horrors that would stretch our bastion's defenses to their limits.

I remained atop the observation deck of the Landship, my gaze locked on the horizon. The faint hum of distortion that marked the transition from Dusk to Midnight buzzed in my mind like a warning.

Charis stood beside me, silent yet alert, her ivory hair catching the faint glimmer of Carcosa's twisted moonlight. In her arms, Lupina lay comfortably, her disembodied head showing no signs of concern.

Why? Because she was dead asleep.

"How is she still asleep?" I murmured, half to myself.

Charis offered a small smile, her crimson eyes betraying a flicker of amusement. "She trusts your judgement and capabilities, Father. Perhaps a little too much."

A pause settled between us, broken only by the faint hum of the Landship's machinery and the distant, unsettling cries of Carcosa's denizens. After a moment, I turned my attention to Charis.

"What do you think, Charis?" I asked, my tone more contemplative. "About living here, in Carcosa?"

She blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, she said nothing, her gaze shifting to the battlefield below, where bastioneers and Heavenly Maids prepared for the inevitable. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured, but there was a weight to her words.

"I… I have mixed feelings," she admitted. "The memories I inherited from Eve—they're vivid. The betrayal of the gods, the suffering, the chaos that shaped her into the Holy Saint. It's… overwhelming, at times. And when I look at Carcosa now, I see those echoes everywhere. This is not a world anyone should have to endure."

Her grip on Lupina tightened slightly, her crimson eyes darkening with thought. "If I'm honest, I think I'd prefer Earth—the world you showed me. Even with its corruption, its societal problems… it feels more bearable. The people there don't wake up every day wondering if they'll survive the night."

Her words brought a faint smile to my lips. "An intriguing thought," I said, leaning slightly against the railing. "But you know, Charis, Earth has its own way of breaking people. Its struggles may not be as grandiose or overtly horrific as Carcosa's, but they are no less significant to those who endure them."

She tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"

I gestured toward the desolate expanse before us. "If a person is born on Earth and knows nothing of Carcosa, their perspective is shaped solely by their environment. To them, losing their job in a pandemic might feel as devastating as someone here losing their home to a Calamity Object. The scale of loss is different, yes, but the emotions—the grief, the despair—are equally real to the person experiencing them. Mortals are remarkably adaptable, but their guiding hope and endurance are always tied to their perspective."

Charis considered my words, her expression thoughtful. "You're too good of a person, Father," she said quietly. "Not everyone will think that way."

I chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of self-deprecation. "Oh, Charis, I'm not a good person. I simply have a high level of cognitive empathy. I understand when someone is distraught and why, but I don't necessarily relate to or sympathize with them. What matters to me is the cause and the result. If someone feels something, there must be a cause. And if something happens, there must be a result.

"That's not to say I'm entirely cold-hearted. I can still sympathize with those I care about. Like you, my dear Charis."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, embarrassed. Before she could respond, I reached out and pulled her into picking her up from behind like a doll, snuggling my chin on her hair.

"Father…" she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Lupina chose that moment to stir, her golden eyes blinking open groggily. "Did… did something happen?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Charis and I exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. "Oh, nothing of importance," I said, ruffling her hair playfully. "Just the arrival of the Midnight Ordeal. You know, the usual."

The moment of levity was short-lived. The faint hum of distortion grew louder, more insistent,

The air around the Landship stilled, heavy with the promise of devastation. The maddening sky of Carcosa darkened further as the Ordeal of the Midnight loomed, its arrival heralded by an eerie hum that could easily be distinguished in everyone's souls and bones.

The Hazardous Immortality phenomenon, still in effect, was a cruel backdrop to what was to come. Because of this, the bastion had endured the seemingly endless waves of Calamity Objects.

The kind of guest that appeared on the Ordeal of the Midnight will surely make or break our survival throughout the night.

After all, it would be…

Right, I'd prefer not to jinx it again this time.

"Here they come."

A ripple spread through the air, distorting the already surreal landscape of Carcosa. The maddening moon seemed to pulse, its light casting grotesque shadows that twisted and writhed.

In the distance, a figure began to take shape—a massive, skeletal giant, its hunched form towering over the horizon. Its burning eye sockets glowed with an intense, malevolent light, and a chilling aura radiated from its frame.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Well, that's dramatic," Kuzunoha said, tilting her head. "A special type of Calamity Object indeed. This one goes by the name 'King of Skulls.' Fitting, don't you think?"

The skeletal giant was not alone. The ground beneath it writhed as skeletal creatures of every imaginable shape clawed their way to the surface. Human forms, beasts, and horrors too abstract to name emerged, forming an army that swept across the horizon. Their advance was relentless, the mass of bones and shadow closing in on the Landship.

The battlefield below became a writhing sea of bones and malice. The skeletal creatures were grotesque imitations of life—their movements were jerky yet unnervingly coordinated, as if guided by some unseen force that bound them all to a singular will.

From the vantage point of the observation deck, I could see the bastioneers already mobilizing, their formations fluid and disciplined as they engaged the incoming horde.

The Heavenly Maids, now willing to join the fight with that knife I gave to them—darted like shadows among the chaos, their new Metalweave knives gleaming under the fractured moonlight as they tore through the advancing skeletal monstrosities with their own fair share of strength and competency.

They were all formerly the undisputed Heavenly Victory, a demigod who would leave nothing but victories in their wake.

"Something is amiss…" Lupina commented.

And she was right.

For every creature that fell, two more rose in its place, even if they just got revived from the effect of the Hazardous Immortality.

It didn't take long for the pattern to reveal itself.

The King of Skulls will spawn animated skeletons of random beings and existence, for every entity that died within the proximity of the bastion. With the amount of skeletal monsters that were summoned initially on the start of the Ordeal of the Midnight, it seemed like they were also counting those who died and then got revived again from the effect of the Hazardous Immortality.

A nonsensical and weird interaction between the two special type Calamity Objects, for sure.

And an annoying one.

"Charis, put on a telepathic broadcast that will transfer my words to the bastioneers, confidantes, and Heavenly Maids."

"I'm ready, Father."

Of course, there was Kuzunoha that was obviously now what was actually happening there on the frontline. But it seemed like she would prefer me to convey the information directly.

Truly, after Charis rose to the seat as my second in command, Kuzunoha definitely slacked a bit on being my most reliable secretary.

The air was thick with the grating cacophony of rattling bones and unholy screeches, a symphony of chaos that echoed across the wasteland. My eyes narrowed as I watched the skeletal horde swell with every cycle of destruction and rebirth, their numbers growing at an exponential rate. The interaction between Hazardous Immortality and the King of Skulls was an unholy marriage of chaos, creating a battlefield that teetered on the edge of spiraling out of control.

This was the first time I had witnessed these two kinds of Calamity Objects overlap and mutually benefited one another. The Hazardous Immortality's endless cycle of regeneration amplified the King of Skulls' power, creating an unintended feedback loop that threatened to overwhelm even my bastion's formidable defenses.

The logical course of action was clear: eliminate the King of Skulls. Without its influence, the skeletal army would cease to spawn, and the Hazardous Immortality alone would be manageable.

"Deliver this message to them." I began, my tone calm but commanding, waiting until Charis gave me the green light. "For those still uninformed. The Calamity Object we're facing is the King of Skulls, a phenomenon type that spawns skeletal entities for every death within its vicinity.

"This includes not just the permanently fallen but those revived by the Hazardous Immortality phenomenon. The interaction between these two Calamity Objects is the source of the endless horde you're fighting. Killing the King of Skulls, by theory, will also stop spawning of the skeleton entities," I paused, allowing my words to sink in before continuing. "Focus your efforts on containment. Do not waste your energy on the smaller creatures—they will only regenerate. Instead, prioritize suppressing the larger threats and maintaining defensive formations. Perform this until the upcoming order.

The skeletal giant loomed in the distance, its hunched form an imposing silhouette against the chaotic horizon. I shifted my gaze toward it, my lips curving into a faint smile as I prepared to drop the final piece of information.

"And one more thing," I added, my voice sharp with purpose. "That hundred-meter-tall skeletal monster you see before you? That is not the King of Skulls."

There was a reason why Kuzunoha hadn't swiftly dealt with this Calamity Object, after all.