Belated rry Christmas!
Sorry for the delay—here’s a double chapter. (If there isn’t a second chapter yet, it’s just a site delay. Please wait a bit.)
This is the OMAKE I enjoyed writing the most. A second part of it already exists on my (P)(A)(T).
If anyone wants to read 3/7/13 chapters ahead, that’s possible on my (P)(A)(T). If not, I still truly appreciate you reading my story. Thank you very much!
That said, good morning to everyone, and enjoy the reading!
(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.
[...]---[...]
Title: After Reincarnating in a World Where Various TV Shows and Movies Are Real, I Was Invited to a Dinsional Group Chat, But One of the Other mbers Is an Overpowered Protagonist Pretending to Be a Normal Guy for So Unknown Reason!
POV: Eleonore Blanc Castle
Today marked exactly ten years since I was kicked out of my own reality.
Not figuratively—literally.
I still rember it vividly. I’ve replayed the mories of that day countless tis, trying to find a reason, so clue to explain why it happened.
It was an ordinary Saturday night. I was drinking alone in my apartnt. Going out to drink always bothered —too noisy. Alone, because all my friends had lives: most were married or had small children.
The only single thirty-six-year-old woman left was .
I had just finished a match of that cursed three-letter online ga and was ready to call it a night. Around two in the morning, my last beer ran out.
I clearly rember going to the kitchen, grabbing a few painkillers for the hangover—plus one to help sleep—then taking a quick shower before throwing on so random nightgown and curling up in a cocoon of blankets and pillows.
Curiously enough, I still do that even in this life.
My therapist says it’s because I’m lonely and crave warmth, safety, physical and emotional comfort. Obviously, she’s wrong.
After lying down, I wouldn’t exactly call what happened next “sleep.”
It was more like a blink.
One mont I was in my bed, cozy and half-asleep; the next, I was lying in the middle of an alley in New York City—completely confused and still half-groggy.
But the worst part wasn’t realizing I wasn’t in my apartnt anymore. It was realizing my hands were the wrong size.
It was still my body—but my nine-year-old body.
Waking up in another continent, in an alley, twenty-seven years younger, half-asleep—maybe hungover—was definitely… an experience.
I’m pretty sure my scream shattered a few windows, considering how many people woke up.
The first to find was a man driving by with his daughter, who happened to hear my terrified shriek.
The good news was that when I was taken to the police, they were far more concerned about why a scared little girl speaking French was wearing a semi-transparent nightgown several sizes too big and reeking of alcohol—than about asking questions.
After so tests confird I had sleeping pills and alcohol in my system, the verdict was that I was a victim of human trafficking, and my “missing mories” were the result of adrenaline and drugs.
Obviously, I didn’t correct them.
I was just as confused as they were. What was I supposed to say? “Oh, actually, I’m a thirty-six-year-old woman who should be in France. Can you send back on a private jet?”
Not to ntion, my English at that ti was absolute garbage.
And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t have helped—I soon realized that world wasn’t mine.
It wasn’t 2025, but 1999. And there were people who simply shouldn’t exist. Like my new father.
The man who found wasn’t just anyone—he was the famous bestselling author Richard “Edgar” Castle, the main character from a TV series and a fictional person who, as far as I knew, wasn’t supposed to exist.
Since no relatives of mine could be found, and with my new father’s connections—and money—it didn’t take long before “Castle” appeared beside “Blanc” in my surna.
Ten years later, now nineteen, I was still Eleonore Blanc Castle.
I still wasn’t sure if I was nineteen or forty-six…
But I was going with nineteen! Thinking I was pushing fifty made my skin crawl—and I couldn’t exactly be older than my dad, could I?
My life since then had been… easy.
Of course, knowing I’d never see my friends or family again hurt. It still did, in a way—but I had a new family who loved and a financial situation far better than before.
With my mories and knowledge, making life even easier wasn’t exactly difficult.
My dad was eccentric enough to trust a child’s “investnt advice,” which only grew the already considerable family fortune.
“A prodigy!” they called —a lie, of course.
I was cheating, using knowledge from my past life, and I didn’t even feel guilty about it. I wasn’t so investnt genius—I just had keywords like “Facebook,” “Walmart,” “Bitcoin,” and so on.
Overall, I couldn’t complain about this new life—aside from avoiding a few places.
Miami had a cop who liked dumping bodies into the ocean, and Maryland had a psychiatrist who enjoyed human flesh a bit too much to be considered normal.
Those two were good reminders that this world didn’t just borrow a few fictional characters. I’m pretty sure I even heard sothing about a “Red John” on TV once.
I didn’t try to play hero, of course. I wasn’t stupid—and I was fine with things as they were.
Everything was normal—or almost, anyway…
Until about ten seconds ago.
[Would you like to join the Dinsional Group Chat?]
[Yes] / [Yes, but blue]
“What the hell…?” I muttered.
I looked around quickly. It was nightti, so everyone was ho. Dad was in his office, but Grandma and Alexis were sitting on the couch beside , watching the movie.
I looked at the two of them. They… couldn’t see that blue screen, right?
I stood up, drawing their attention.
“Bathroom?” Alexis asked.
“Bathroom.” I nodded. “No need to pause the movie.”
“Sweetheart, could you bring a beer on your way back?” Grandma Martha asked without turning around.
“I want soda,” said the little redheaded gno.
I grunted in reply and went upstairs. The house had six bathrooms—one on the first floor, one on the second, and four private ones: Alexis’s, Grandma’s, Dad’s, and mine.
I usually used whichever was closer, so heading upstairs might look a bit suspicious—but who cared.
When I reached my room, I closed the door behind and sat on my bed.
The blue screen was still there. I tried touching it, but my fingers went straight through as if it weren’t real.
Was this like those stories? I’d read a few back in my past life… well, more than a few. Did I actually just get a system? But why a group chat?
Weren’t these things supposed to happen to Chinese or Japanese protagonists? I was French—did that even count?
My heart started pounding as my thoughts spiraled.
My options were limited. Whoever threw this thing at clearly didn’t want a “no”—the two “yeses” made that obvious.
So either I accepted… or ignored it? I wasn’t sure I could ignore it. The screen was semi-transparent, like a hologram, but living with that stuck in my field of vision would be a nightmare.
… I kind of wanted to accept it, anyway.
I tapped the “Yes” on the right.
Fuck it! I yelled “status” and “system” like an idiot during my first days in this world—of course I was going to accept!
This was my chance to finally be the protagonist!
The words on the blue screen changed the mont my finger touched the button.
[Invitation to the Dinsional Group Chat accepted!]
[Generating userna!]
[Generating userna based on user’s existence and history!]
[Userna generated!]
[Welco to the Dinsional Group Chat: “NotQuiteMain”!]
I felt my eyelid twitch as I read the userna the Group Chat had given .
What the hell was that supposed to an?!
Why did my hopes feel like they’d been brutally murdered right after being born?!
The ssages hovered in the air for about five seconds before fading away. In their place, a new blue screen appeared — a chat window.
ssages began to pop up imdiately:
["NotQuiteMain" has joined the group chat!]
["PoisonFetishist" has joined the group chat!]
["ApocalypseBrat" has joined the group chat!]
["DumbKidnapMagnet" has joined the group chat!]
["PotatoSurvivalInstincts" has joined the group chat!]
["The Human" has joined the group chat!]
… I had no idea who any of these people were — especially the last one.
What the hell? “The Human” and not “A Human”? Were they the only human or sothing? Did they trademark the entire species for themselves? And why was their userna the only one with a space in it?
Less than three seconds later, the chat exploded with ssages.
[ApocalypseBrat: Okay, what the hell is this? Did Marlene give spoiled food and now I’m hallucinating? Are my hallucinations seriously this creative?]
[DumbKidnapMagnet: What kind of awful nickna is that?! I’m not dumb! Forget that — I’ve been kidnapped! Call my dad, or the police! They’ll alert him! Tell them Ashley Graham, the daughter of the President of the United States, has been kidnapped and needs help!]
[PoisonFetishist: … I think I’ve found the hallucinogenic poison I’ve been searching for. Though my hallucinations seem to believe they’re hallucinating. I’ll write that down later.]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: Kidnapped, what? Wait, is this so kind of prank? Is it because I’m the new girl in town? Haha, very funny. Who’s behind this? Actually, how are you even doing this?]
[ApocalypseBrat: You think I’m your hallucination? Bullshit! You’re mine! And what kind of na is that? Who has a fetish for poison, you freak?!]
[ApocalypseBrat: Uh… not denying it, huh? Guess you do.]
[ApocalypseBrat: Pussy!]
I stayed silent for the next few seconds, just reading their interactions.
I had a few guesses about who so of them might be. Well… two of them.
ApocalypseBrat was almost definitely Ellie. Having “apocalypse” in her userna and ntioning Marlene was a dead giveaway.
The swearing helped too.
The other one I was sure of was DumbKidnapMagnet. Not even a guess — she said her na outright, and there was only one Ashley Graham I knew.
Which led to a rather disturbing theory: two people from zombie-apocalypse worlds. If the others were too, what did that an for my world…?
No, damn it! Please, let this just be in my head!
I hate zombies. I hate anything that doesn’t die normally!
But Ashley ntioning being the president’s daughter gave a good opening. I started typing on the small holographic keyboard that appeared below the floating blue screen.
[NotQuiteMain: Uh… not to be that person, but the current president doesn’t have a daughter nad Ashley. I don’t think he even has a daughter, to begin with.]
[PoisonFetishist: I don’t even know what a “United States” is. And you’re not the only one who’s been kidnapped — I was just taken too.]
[ApocalypseBrat: What police? That doesn’t even exist anymore! And after I tell them, you think I’ll magically know where you are?! Duh! The “Dumb” part of your na is accurate.]
[DumbKidnapMagnet: I’m being serious! There are so weird guys who kidnapped , and I can’t understand their language!]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: I’m with @NotQuiteMain. The current U.S. president doesn’t have a daughter. If this is a prank, at least do your research before trying.]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: And what do you an you don’t know what the “U.S.” is, @PoisonFetishist? Do you live under a rock? Or on another planet?]
[ApocalypseBrat: What the hell is an internet?]
Nice one, Potato! I took the chance.
[NotQuiteMain: Actually, I’ve got a theory. Can you all tell what year it is for you? It’s 2009 here.]
The group chat went silent for a few seconds before ssages started coming in again.
[ApocalypseBrat: 2009? Even I, who never pays attention to dates, know it’s 2033.]
[DumbKidnapMagnet: It’s 2004. Don’t tell they drugged and I’ve been in a coma for five years?!]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: Off by a year. It’s 2005. Ti-travel pranks are movie-tier stuff, guys. Do better!]
[PoisonFetishist: I don’t know what “2008” ans, but it’s been twenty-four years since the Emperor ascended the throne.]
[NotQuiteMain: … Looks like I might be right. I’m not lying when I say it’s 2009 here. Sothing’s off. Different points in ti… or entirely different worlds?]
I didn’t send any more ssages after that. It was better to let them think for themselves.
Let that little seed grow a bit.
As for the others’ ssages, they didn’t give anything particularly useful.
Well, a few hints, maybe — like how Poison was probably Chinese or Japanese. Or maybe Roman, since she ntioned an Emperor. Not ruling out that she ca from a completely different world, of course — one where monarchies were still a thing.
And Potato was clearly used to technology. She knew how to tag others in chat easily. Not that I looked it up.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Soone was missing from the conversation. Since the beginning, “The Human” hadn’t said a word.
I quickly moved my fingers.
[NotQuiteMain: @The_Human, you there? You’re the only one who hasn’t said anything yet.]
Silence. No response for at least ten seconds. Then finally—
[The Human: I am. Just busy pondering how my life must be one big joke to whatever’s out there. Also been reading through the Chat’s notifications.]
[The Human: Wait, I think I can send the file here. Read it, it’s important.]
[The Human:(Attachnt: Important_Notes_For_Beginners.)]
After reading the ssages, I instinctively clicked on the attachnt The Human had sent.
Another blue screen opened, overlaying the group chat window.
[..]
[SYSTEM NOTICE – IMPORTANT NOTE FOR BEGINNERS!!]
Welco to the Dinsional Group Chat!
This is a convergence space — a eting point between tilines and worlds.
Each connected mber retains their original identity, but the system adjusts communication so everyone can understand one another.
The Group Chat currently does not belong to any known world.
Usernas are generated based on each user’s existence and personal history.
Voice, audio, and thought input systems are disabled by default for individuals with reading and writing capability, but can be enabled in “Settings > System > Communication > Voice & Thought”.
Voices can be modified at will.
For more information about the System, go to “Settings > System > Information”.
All mbers of the Group Chat were chosen for one reason or another — be it their history, intelligence, strength, or cunning.
The Group Chat was created to ██████ while the ██████ is ██████. It also serves as a ans of inter-world communication and a way for mbers to complete missions, accelerating the ██████ of ██████.
[ABOUT MISSIONS]
Every seven days, the Group Chat will automatically issue a new Mission.
These missions may involve terror, horror, and/or mystery, and will be assigned randomly to between 2 and 20 mbers.
Who goes on the mission is decided by the mbers themselves; if no one volunteers, selection will occur at random.
Participating in missions is mandatory, though completing them is not.
There will always exist a “Survival Route”, in which, after a set number of days (“X”), the mission concludes automatically in place of the main route.
Side and secret missions may also exist.
Mission difficulty is determined by the number of assigned mbers.
A “2-mber Mission” represents the lowest level of difficulty, while a “20-mber Mission” corresponds to the highest.
However, mission difficulty may change during execution due to unforeseen factors or external variables (“X” factors).
Missions exceeding 20 mbers may exist if certain requirents are t or confird.
Missions do not have to — and often should not — take place in the sa world or era as their participants.
Worlds of stories, tales, and legends may be chosen as mission targets.
Upon accepting a mission, all participants will be sent to the “Naless Camp”.
The “Naless Camp” is the gathering point before any mission. There, mbers may store items obtained from missions and interact in person.
There are two cabins in the “Naless Camp”: one for n, and one for won.
The initial mission will involve all current mbers to ensure better understanding of the system.
Upon completing a mission, each mber will return to the exact mont they left their world.
Additional note: death may occur during missions. Be careful!
[USEFUL INFORMATION]
Any information censored with “██████” is due to your low clearance level.
Avoid attacking or injuring other Group Chat mbers.
Before each mission, the Group Chat will provide useful hints.
A “Naless Shop” exists within the “Naless Camp,” where mbers can sell and purchase items.
The currency used in the “Naless Shop” can only be obtained by selling items to the shop or completing secret missions within a mission.
Be careful of the moon.
[BEGINNER’S GIFT]
As a welco, each new mber receives a Beginner’s Gift Box.
The item inside the box varies according to the user’s world and individual needs, but the system guarantees it will be useful in one way or another.
[Redeem Gift]
Additional note: the item obtained from the Beginner’s Gift Box will not increase mission difficulty.
[..]
The information slowly sank into my mind.
The words mission, terror, horror, and mystery echoed in my thoughts.
My excitent for being invited to this Group Chat faded as the weight of its aning began to sink in.
“Worlds of stories, tales, and legends may be chosen as mission targets.”
The aning of those words was far more terrifying with the knowledge I possessed.
What defined a story, a tale, or a legend?
How old did it have to be? How well-known? How modern could it be?...
The others in the Group Chat might not have realized it yet. Realized just how fucked we were...
But I knew.
One by one, the nas began to whisper in my ears.
The Exorcist. Halloween. A Nightmare on Elm Street. Friday the 13th. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.
The Thing. Alien. The Ritual. The Conjuring. Paranormal Activity. The Ring. The Grudge. Poltergeist. It.
Be careful of the moon.
A cold shiver crawled up the back of my neck — a chill like the fingers of a corpse pressing against my skin.
“This... No, no...” My breathing quickened. My thoughts turned chaotic.
I had to focus to calm myself down.
I took a deep breath, using the technique I’d learned back in acting school in this life.
Slowly, breath by breath, I managed to steady myself a little.
My heart was still pounding in my chest, but the fog of terror clouding my mind began to lift, enough for to think again.
A panic attack… I hadn’t had one of those in ages — not since I woke up in this world, actually.
“Alright, think. Don’t panic yet.” I muttered, preferring the sound of my voice to the screaming in my head.
“It’s not like the Devil himself is tagging along this early. The first missions shouldn’t be that complicated — we don’t have any items yet.”
“Well, we will. But the item from the starter gift doesn’t count toward difficulty.”
“What even qualifies as an item, anyway? Can I bring a weapon? A gun?... That shouldn’t be too hard to get. One, two... maybe an entire arsenal. Silver bullets, garlic, holy water, salt, a dozen crosses…”
As I organized my thoughts out loud, my breathing steadied further, and I managed to calm down almost completely.
The sense of foreboding was still there — less like a monster breathing down my neck and more like a dark cloud looming on the horizon.
I must’ve stayed like that for two or three minutes before finally looking back at the Group Chat.
Five ssages caught my eye, popping up above the chat window as smaller notifications:
[System Notice! PotatoSurvivalInstincts has claid the Beginner’s Gift!]
[System Notice! DumbKidnapMagnet has claid the Beginner’s Gift!]
[System Notice! ApocalypseBrat has claid the Beginner’s Gift!]
[System Notice! PoisonFetishist has claid the Beginner’s Gift!]
[System Notice! The Human has claid the Beginner’s Gift!]
Below, I could see everyone’s reactions.
[ApocalypseBrat: Holy shit! It’s real?! I’m not hallucinating?!]
[DumbKidnapMagnet: A charm that boosts my resistance to all viruses? I don’t need that! I need a phone to call for ransom—or for soone to ransom ! I don’t care about the flu!]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: This... there’s no way this is real. Who put this wooden stake on my desk? A vampire-killing stake, haha, very funny. This is trespassing!]
[PoisonFetishist: I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Curious... is this magic? Did I just make a contract with a god or an evil spirit without realizing it?]
[ApocalypseBrat: Hey, what did you guys get? Co on, spill it.]
[PoisonFetishist: Guess.]
[ApocalypseBrat: Oh, this is payback for earlier, isn’t it? You think I’m gonna fall for that?]
[PoisonFetishist: Guess.]
[ApocalypseBrat: You little bitch!]
A vampire-killing stake and a charm that boosts virus resistance.
Impressive, depending on how effective they actually were.
Not that they’d stop being impressive even if they weren’t that useful — just knowing sothing magical like that existed already scratched that part of my brain that loved magic with every fiber of its being.
My inner gacha hoarder wanted those items for myself, even if they were borderline useless.
But then sothing caught my attention in the system ssages — their order, to be specific.
The first person to claim the gift was Potato, which wasn’t all that surprising. If her nickna said her survival instincts were as good as a potato’s, there had to be a reason.
Then ca Ashley — probably out of desperation. Then Ellie and Poison. Finally, The Human.
But The Human had been the first to access the “Claim Gift” button. They were the one who told everyone that it existed, yet they were the last one, besides , to claim it.
They waited. But why?... Precaution, maybe.
Letting others go first was safer. If sothing happened to one of them, they’d probably ntion it, and they could avoid the sa mistake.
Which is exactly what happened — Ashley and Potato had already said what they got.
...Sothing told this person was dangerous.
I didn’t know who he or she was, but that alone was enough to make realize I should be careful when we t.
After all, there was nothing actually stopping one mber from attacking or even killing another.
There was a warning, sure, but it only said “Not recomnded,” not “Not allowed.”
Alright… let’s pretend to be a bit more innocent and stupid…
I moved my fingers across the glowing blue keyboard, but before I could hit send, I froze.
[The Human: You know, @NotQuiteMain, you asked what year it was earlier — why? That was before I sent the system notice attachnt.]
[The Human: How did you suspect we might not be from the sa world before even reading the attachnt?]
[ApocalypseBrat: Fuck, that’s true! I didn’t even notice that. How did you know?]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: Because they’re all paid actors! It’s obvious! Even you! Stop pretending!]
[ApocalypseBrat: Silence, nonbeliever. I didn’t survive fourteen years in this hellhole without magic for nothing. If magic’s real, I’m using it!]
[PotatoSurvivalInstincts: Fourteen years?! You’re just a kid! Oh, right, “Brat.” Should’ve guessed.]
[ApocalypseBrat: “Potato.”]
A chill ran down my spine.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Now what? I could tell the truth, but then what? “Oh, yeah, it’s just that I reincarnated, and you’re all fictional characters to .”
Yeah, that would go downhill fast. Definitely not sothing I could just say without completely screwing things up.
Alright, ti to lie. I’ll just say I read the system notice first. I didn’t send any ssages for the first few minutes, right? That’s a good excuse.
[NotQuiteMain: And who said I didn’t read it? I didn’t send a ssage right away because of that. I was reading the system notice. Didn’t you do the sa?]
[The Human: I did. You must just be a faster reader than , then.]
[The Human: But answer this — why didn’t you send the attachnt, like I did?]
[The Human: And another thing — why haven’t you claid your gift yet? If you were the first to read it, you should’ve been the first to claim it.]
[The Human: I took my ti because I wanted to warn the others. What about you?]
Ah, fuck sideways...
Wasn’t that exactly what I’d just thought about them earlier? How did that flip back on ?!
Don’t tell this was so kind of plan from the start... There’s no way they figured that out with just a few chat ssages.
What did I even send? Two? Three ssages?
That cold, corpse-like touch returned to the back of my neck.
The sense of dread deepened.
Who the hell was this person?! Lelouch? Aizen? What the fuck?!
Before my thoughts could spiral any further — or before I could even respond — new ssages appeared.
[The Human: Actually, my apologies. I’m being intrusive. It’s a bad habit I picked up a while ago and haven’t been able to shake.]
[The Human: Anyway, today’s been kind of stressful, so I’m going to step away from this weird blue screen and let you all get to know each other.]
[The Human: Oh, right — I was checking out the missions tab. It’s on the right. The next mission starts in two days, and everyone in the group will be summoned — in case soone missed that part in the system notice.]
[The Human: Anyway, see you.]
[System Notice! The Human has gone offline.]
And just like that, he was gone.
I felt like I’d been played — like that person had their fun, got what they wanted, and then just lost interest.
I fell back onto the bed.
Only one word left my lips.
“Fuck…”
[...]---[...]
Yes, the protagonist is a reincarnated woman, and yes, she’s French.
I’ve been wanting to play around with a Group Chat for a while, so this idea ca to . This Omake will be a recurring thing where you’ll be able to vote on new characters to join the chat, which missions they’ll go on, and what items they can receive as rewards.
Of course, there are so rules:
1 – Characters need to be ordinary people without powers, preferably from worlds without powers, or where the character in question doesn’t have easy access to them.
For example: Hermione is a “normal” person, but HP magic is bullshit, so no. But soone like Ashley from Resident Evil works, since even though RE has “powers,” they’re more out of reach.
2 – The worlds need to be horror/mystery/thriller thed.
Movies, series, ani, etc… anything involving horror. I’ve developed a strange habit of watching these things for a while—not all of them, of course—so I’d accept summaries to help.
3 – Reward items need to be consistent with the difficulty level of the mission in question.
Here’s an example of an item for reference:
Na: The Old Lumberjack’s Axe
Price: 2 Terror Coins (The na of these coins hasn’t been decided yet—if you have any ideas, just comnt.)
Place of origin: Brothers Grimm tale (Little Red Riding Hood)
Description: One of the old axes of the lumberjack who lives in the forest. The blade is worn and the wooden handle feels rough. The red paint is faded and there appear to be so copper-colored stains covering the semi-dull blade, but it should still be useful for cutting so things.
Ability: The axe has a strange taste for canine blood and will cut any being considered a canine more easily. Any canine being will feel a slight fear of the axe.
[..]
Finally, there’s a bit of lore behind why Devas showed up there. In the lore of these Omakes, there’s also a reason why he’s pretending to be a normal person. These Omakes take place roughly six months in the future.
Oh, and any resemblance to the way Eleonore and Devas went to sleep and woke up in another world is purely coincidental…
Have a good night and enjoy the reading!
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