Reincarnated in a depressing erotic world but living a normal life (right?) The Garden of Dead Wonders

"¡¡¡AAAAAAHHH!!"

The fall was not a simple downward movent; it was a dissolution of all known physical laws.

(...♫ ♪ ♪...♩...♬...♪...)

As Shija sank into the void, the space shifted from black to a kaleidoscope of fractured realities that spun at a nauseating speed.

(...♩♫♬ ♩♫ ♪♫ 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♬♫♪)

Around him, the tunnel of descent began to vomit objects that defied reason: pocket watches that lted like warm flesh, dripping seconds of a thick, dark liquid; laboratory stretchers that twisted until they transford into tallic limbs trying to reach him; and glass vials that exploded into galaxies of pure static.

(...♪...♩...♪♬...)

The air beca an amalgam of neon colors so aggressive they seed to burn his intangible essence, while faceless shadows whispered secrets to him in a language he did not understand, but which made his soul vibrate with terror.

(...♪...♫...♭...𝅘𝅥𝅮...)

It was a journey through a shattered psyche, a dizzying descent where gravity did not pull on his body, but on his traumas, as the lody resonating around him shifted into a long lant that seed to stretch into the void. There is no longer curiosity, only an oppressive gravity dragging the lody toward the lowest tones, as if the music itself were losing the strength to keep playing.

(...♩...♭...♩...♭...)

The rhythm beca erratic, mimicking the heartbeats of an exhausted heart. Each note fell with the weight of an inevitable loss; in a dense, almost physical lancholy that spoke of a surrender without resistance. It transmitted abandonnt, the loneliness of one surrounded by shadows they cannot see, yet which steal their will.

(...𝅘𝅥𝅮...♭...♫...♬...)

Then, an unusual note reappeared, leaving behind the surprise of amusent. Instead, it evoked distortion, like a muffled scream in the middle of nowhere.

"My consciousness... is fading...!"

The sound was absolute tragedy: the realization that the "cody" was only a mask, as the lody crumbled into disconnected fragnts, conveying a desolation so profound that the montary silence felt like an abyss.

(...♭.........𝅘𝅥𝅮)

Finally, the music stopped in a gelid whisper, leaving only the trace of a bitter truth that no one would hear...

(¡VRA-KRAKK!)

Imdiately after, the void ca to a halt with a dry impact that shook the very foundations of Shija’s consciousness.

"Ugh...! I didn't feel the impact...?"

Shija didn't crash against the ground; instead, he was spat out into a new reality.

"¡¡!!"

Upon pulling himself up, he saw that the scenery welcoming him was an absolute perversion of nature. The sky was no longer white or black, but a purulent color—a rusty red streaked by clouds that looked like shreds of fresh skin.

Around him, the vegetation was a chanical and organic nightmare: flowers with razor-sharp petals dripping black oil, and giant mushrooms whose stalks were ford by columns of human vertebrae fused together.

"...."

In the distance, islands of earth floated over an infinite abyss, supporting ruined Victorian mansions that rose askew, with windows that looked like eyes watching in the gloom. Bridges made of burnt playing cards and rusted chains connected the fragnts of this broken world, where the scent of stale tea mingled with the tallic, piercing stench of blood flowing through obsidian rivulets.

"But... what is... this...?"

Disoriented, Shija stood at the epicenter of a delirium—a land of dead wonders where every corner breathed the madness of whoever had sired it.

"It is no ti to rest."

At that mont, finally regaining his senses, Shija pulled himself up with difficulty, staggering over a ground that felt like a mixture of ash and dried flesh, due to the dense air of the place, heavy with the tallic scent of stagnant blood flowing from the obsidian rivulets.

"¿?"

However, at that point, Shija noticed sothing, standing motionless with his eyes fixed on the Victorian mansions floating in the distance.

(Flut...)

The oppressive silence of the place, interrupted only by the hiss of the black oil dripping from the chanical flowers at his feet, was broken by a buzzing sound.

(Flut... flut...)

Then, the sound began to intensify more and more in a delicate and sowhat rhythmic cadence, like the brushing of silk against silk that seed to be born from the purulent sky itself.

(FLUT-FLUT-FLUT-FLUT!)

That sound grew exponentially until it beca a massive murmur that flooded the horizon.

"¡¿?!"

When Shija looked up, he was shocked by what he saw...

(FLUT-FLUT-FLUT-FLUT-FLUT-FLUT!!)

In the sky, a colossal flock of erald butterflies erged like a river of vibrant light from behind the clouds of skin, staining the red sky with an electric green that montarily blinded him.

There were millions of them. A chaotic dance that eclipsed the darkness of the abyss and reflected its glow upon the ruined structures.

"... Ahaha."

The beauty of the scene was the final blow to Shija's exhausted mind, following the constant experience of stress, torture, and the fall he had been exposed to over the last few months.

(THUD-KRAK!)

Without the strength to hold himself up, Shija let himself fall heavily; his knees hit the ground before he ended up sitting on the chanical earth, while the impact kicked up a small cloud of gray ash.

"Haahhh..."

There, surrounded by bone-mushrooms but beneath a sky that now seed to burn in erald, he closed his eyes and simply breathed.

"Haaa... Haaa... Fuuuu..."

There, Shija simply took in the air, filling his lungs with the cold ozone of the place.

(Ba-dump... Ba-dump... Ba-dump...)

The rhythmic fluttering of the swarm acted as a balm, allowing his pulse, previously frenetic, to begin to slow down.

"...."

For the first ti in his entire journey over the last few months, Shija was able to catch his breath, letting the sound of the erald silk erase the echo of death.

"At my own pace... Heeh..."

Sitting upon the chanical ash, Shija forced himself to concentrate. The erald roar in the sky continued to vibrate, but he was no longer being swept away by the chaos.

(Ba-dump... Ba-dump... Ba-dump...)

His pulse stabilized, marking a steady rhythm that seed to synchronize with the massive fluttering above his head.

"My body..."

Then Shija looked down at his own hands, and a shiver ran through what remained of his consciousness.

"...."

What he saw plunged him into a new kind of wonder. His body was devoid of flesh; it was a silhouette of pale, translucent light—a manifestation of energy reminiscent of the color of a sky before dawn.

"So this is what’s left of ..."

However, beneath that spectral surface, fine filants of a toxic green intertwined, pulsating to the rhythm of the swarm—like veins of light claiming new territory.

(Sssss-huuuu...)

As he inhaled, he didn't feel the passage of air, but rather an internal vibration coursing through his chest, exactly where his heart should be.

"I wonder if..."

In that situation, Shija extended his right arm, overflowing with an inexplicable confidence.

"Co here."

He didn't need to search the environnt for his weapon; the sword was already imbued within his own will.

(SHING-VREEE!)

And with an instinctive impulse, he closed his fist, reclaiming that extension of himself.

"...."

Without preamble, the hilt of his sword appeared in his palm, responding to its master's call.

"Weapons are like souls... Now I understand what she ant... Master..."

The blade was not of solid steel, but a condensation of his essence that humd with a frequency so high it made the bone-mushrooms around him vibrate.

"I’m glad to see you..."

Shija held it firmly, noticing that the weight was exactly what his mind rembered.

(Vum... vum... vum...)

He opened his hand completely, allowing the concentration of his will to relax.

(FSSS-SHHH!)

The sword instantly fragnted into splinters of light that returned to his body, absorbed by his spectral skin as if returning to their natural origin.

"...."

Silence reigned once more, broken only by the distant, rhythmic fluttering of the butterflies.

(Zzzzt...)

Shija traced a shadow of a smile and closed his fist again, this ti with lightning speed.

(KRA-SHING!)

In response, the weapon materialized with a sonorous impact that shook the ash around him. The blade now glowed with a renewed intensity, showing an erald line that ran along the edge of the pale light.

"As long as I have my sword..."

Shija stood up; in this dreamlike plane, he and his sword were a single entity.

"I can fight!"

He was no longer a helpless prey in the abyss, but a warrior walking with his very soul unsheathed.

(Tap... tap... tap...)

But at that mont, while Shija was still savoring the sense of security in his astral hand...

"Identify yourself!"

The silence was broken. Not by the fluttering, but by sothing much more earthly and, therefore, much stranger in that place.

(SHING!)

It was footsteps. A rhythmic, firm, and deliberate walk that echoed over the chanical ash floor; Shija, without lowering his guard, instinctively dropped into a stance, flexing his knees and pointing the tip of his blade of light toward the gloom stretching beyond the bone-mushrooms.

"Who are you...?"

His gaze, now charged with a gelid determination, locked onto a figure erging from the shadows.

"... I am."

It was soone shrouded in a heavy robe and a hood that concealed any trace of their face, moving with a parsimony that denoted absolute confidence in that hostile terrain.

"Soone who has been waiting for you."

In that instant, the atmosphere shifted once more.

(Sssss-whish...)

A sudden wind began to blow between Shija and the stranger, heavy with the sweet and bitter scent of lted chocolate.

"It is a pleasure to et you, Shija Retsu."

The figure stopped a few ters away, remaining motionless beneath the erald sky.

"I have been waiting for you."

Then, a voice erged from the depths of the hood—serene and devoid of surprise—pronouncing his na again with a tone of familiarity that made Shija’s spectral essence crawl...