Reincarnated in a depressing erotic world but living a normal life (right?)

The Ascent of Wrath: TRANSCENDENTAL FRICTION AND THE SOVEREIGN’S INDIGNATION

In a forgotten corner of Central City, Kaelen Thorne's apartment had transformed into an organic extension of his own apathy.(shhhhhhuuuuu-uuuuuu)

The air in the room was heavy, a stale amalgam of electronic heat emanating from the processors and the oily trail of countless instant food packages piled in the corners like monuments to his sloth.

(fzzt... nnnnnnnnnn)

The only real source of light was the bluish, flickering glow of an ultra-high-end monitor, which bathed his pale, almost translucent skin, giving him the appearance of a specter caught in a wrong frequency.

"...."

And in that place, Kaelen was slumped in his chair, shoulders hunched and pupils dilated, fixed on the Virtual Dimension interface.

(... How boring.)

His fingers, long and thin, moved with mechanical inertia, almost devoid of their own will.

(Crunch... crunch...)

In that state, the sound of a potato chip breaking between his teeth was the only thing that broke the monotonous hum of the fans.

(... I wonder... What should I do today...?)

At that moment, he chewed slowly, feeling the salt irritating his gums, but without bothering to look for water.

"Mmm... what a drag..."

His voice was a raspy thread, barely a whisper that lost itself in the gloom.

"... At first, it was fun playing with this toy... But I think I've done it long enough now..."

On the game screen he was watching, Mayuri's figure remained kneeling in the mud of the Public Use Alleyway.

"Should I break her...?"

For her, a few months had passed, but for Kaelen, it had been years of a meticulous and slow erosion.

"... Maybe I could have her surrender herself to the world of adult content... Or perhaps make her the slave of the man she hates most... There are so many options..."

And during that time, he had enjoyed every second of watching her yield, seeing how the glow of an "S-rank heroine" faded away to give way to a vacant and submissive gaze.

"Fuuuuuuuu... What a hassle..."

Thus, shrouded in confusion, he exhaled a sigh laden with a stifling nihilism.

"... I can't decide."

Despite having his "character" in the most deplorable and perfect state his sadism could design, the void in his chest only continued to grow.

(Why does it always end like this? Once they break... they stop being fun.)

He felt a pang of irritation and tossed the half-finished bag of chips onto the desk.

(Thud!)

Therefore, with nothing left to do, he was about to log off, his cursor hovering over the exit button, when suddenly, the room seemed to vibrate with a dull frequency that did not come from the fans.

(It’s like playing with a corrupted file that no longer offers resistance.)

Just when the game seemed to have lost its thrill and everything was about to end...

"There’s nothing new left to do... Everything is so... boring..."

.... It was then that a new wind, laden with a heat he thought long forgotten, finally...

(Bzzzzzt! Zzzzt!)

BURST FORTH.

(Eh? A server error?)

And immediately, his monitor screen suffered a syncope.

(No... this isn't normal lag...)

The pixels forming the dark alleyway began to twist, stretching into crimson red lines that bled from the edges toward the center.

(What is this?)

Kaelen blinked, leaning forward as the monitor's brightness increased until it hurt his eyes.

[WARNING: TRANSCENDENTAL ENTITY DETECTED]

Until suddenly, a warning notification, massive and tinged with a purplish hue that seemed to throb like an organic heart, overlaid everything else.

(What...?)

Immediately after, an imperceptible yet devastating pulse struck Kaelen Thorne's brain as if an atrophied mechanism were finally resonating with its source.

(Clack! Clack! Clack!)

In response, Kaelen instinctively struck the keyboard, attempting to regain control while the game’s own system prevented him from doing so.

(ding... ding... ding...)

It was then that a sharp, constant metallic tinkling appeared in Kaelen's mind, similar to a gear being forced to turn in the opposite direction.

(My head...?!)

And suddenly, while still failing to grasp what was happening to him, the audio from his speakers—which had previously only emitted the ambient sound of the alleyway—burst into a roar of static that transformed into a deep, oppressive orchestral melody.

(VROOOOOM!)

In response, the monitor went dark for a second, only to explode into a cinematic that defied any known resolution.

(What is this? There's no event scheduled for today...)

Seeing this, and ignoring the continuous throbbing in his head, Kaelen focused his attention on the screen as a figure began to descend from the sky like a meteorite shattering into fragments of crimson crystal.

(A secret boss? Or is someone hacking my session?)

Kaelen Thorne, for the first time in years, felt the hair on his arms stand on end.

(... I wonder... What was this emotion called...?)

The boredom vanished, replaced by a spark of an emotion he thought dead: a mixture of intrigue and a dull premonition of danger.

(FRRRR-BOOOOOMSHHH!!)

In the end, he remained motionless, hand still on the mouse, as the cinematic showed the descent of a woman wrapped in a veil that seemed made of dying stars and a crown that vibrated with divine authority.

(SHHWWWW-KRA-KOOOOM!!)

Thus the screen shook again, and the entity’s face came into focus, revealing red eyes that seemed to seek, with terrifying precision, the player behind the glass.

(Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Thump-thump!)

At that thought, Kaelen Thorne felt the oxygen vanish from his lungs in an instant, leaving his chest like a vacuum chamber collapsing under invisible pressure.

"No... it can't be..."

His fingers, which had previously moved with the indifference of a bored executioner, clawed tightly into the fabric of his t-shirt, right over his sternum, where his heart hammered with erratic violence.

"... Haaa... Haaah... Haa..."

A heavy, wheezing gasp escaped his throat, while thick beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, trailing down his gaunt face until they vanished into the collar of his shirt.

"... That figure."

The crimson glow of the screen illuminated his pupils, which contracted in a state of absolute shock while two faint streaks of light traced across them.

"R-Raina..."

There, in the cinematic that overflowed his monitor's resolution, the figure that descended was one he recognized, pronouncing her name with emotion.

(H-how is it possible... Th-this is... Could this be...?)

While Kaelen trembled before the monitor, caught in a new emotion, within the reality of the Virtual Dimension world, the gears of fate also began to turn.

"...."

In that world, staring fixedly beyond what could be perceived by the naked eye, Raina's psychic capacity had ceased to be a mere statistic, evolving into something beyond imagination.

(... There is no doubt.)

Her mind had transcended and become a multidimensional receiver, like a black hole of consciousness no longer confined to the borders of her own plane.

(Fwoooooosh!)

Like an invisible tide, Raina was able to perceive, taste, and finally, feed on the anger, fury, and resentment of conscious beings inhabiting realms beyond her original universe.

(I recognize this signature.)

Every thought of hate, every desire for revenge vibrating in the cracks of existence flowed toward her, becoming the fuel that fed her [Domain of Primordial Wrath].

(... It is my own signature.)

During the time she spent in solitude, whenever the psychological support of her current player —Mireya— disconnected to attend to the needs of his own world, Raina did not remain static.

(Why...? What does this mean...?)

In that silence, she became a cosmic tracker.

(No, now is not the time to think about that.)

Her mind processed billions of psychic signals in search of the only trail that mattered to her: how to find her player's universe of origin?

(This might be my best opportunity... I cannot waste it!)

Thanks to that, finally after many attempts, her psionic senses detected a point in her own universe vibrating with an anomalous frequency—a distortion that did not fit the rest of the environment.

(Searching... searching... detecting...)

It was a trail of her own power, or rather, the residue of the agony she herself had once felt; an indelible mark that seemed to have "infected" someone else.

(That sensation... it’s him. It’s not my lord... But he exists in the same universe... If I can triangulate his coordinates!)

It was as if a strand of abyssal spider silk connected her transcendental heart to a dark corner of an alleyway in the slums.

(No matter the cost, I must track the psionic trail!)

Thanks to that, with the patience of a deity, Raina focused on that signal.

(FOCUS!)

Should she succeed there, Raina would be able to triangulate the space-time coordinates to force, through sheer brute strength, her entry into the universe where her lord existed—her player, and the one who gave her long-awaited peace amidst a storm of boundless fury.

"Mmm... How much longer is this staring contest going to last...?"

Yet on the other hand, unaware of the situation, while horror and transcendence intertwined in a dance of power between Central City and the Virtual Dimension, the reality in the World of Ky'lar maintained a note of disconcerting and ergonomic everydayness.

"Now that I think about it, we came here very recklessly and without a plan, but... Isn't this quite bad...?"

Totally unconscious of the ontological storm he had unleashed, Mireya remained buried in the warmth of the lap of a self-proclaimed "priestess."

"For starters, I don't know the type of player who controls that character, and I don't even know how to get them to accept a PvP with the NTR mechanic..."

The silvery light of Ky'lar's twin moons bathed his androgynous features, giving him an air of purity that clashed violently with the chaos his thumbs were causing on the global server.

(Tick... tock... tick... tock...)

Holding the console firmly, Mireya watched the screen with a mixture of impatience and bewilderment, soothing his anxiety by fidgeting with his fingers.

(What should I do, what should I do, what to do, what to do, what to do...?!)

He felt uncomfortable; the tension emanating from the game was so palpable that he could feel a slight tingling in his fingertips.

"Ah, damn it!!"

The atmosphere on the screen was heavy, charged with a seriousness that was beginning to make him nervous.

(Slap!)

Therefore, with no other choice, naturally and suddenly, Mireya slapped his own cheeks, shaking his head to clear the fog.

"That's enough! Focus, Mireya!"

Immediately after, his pearl-white eyes, now focused and bright under the screen's glow, began to evaluate Mayuri’s physical state with a clinical eye.

(This is... inhuman. Who the hell is managing this file?)

As he processed the details of the character model, a cold and determined resolution took hold of his gaze.

(It’s an insult to optimization... It’s a cruelty!)

Indignation welled up in his chest. To Mireya, seeing a character in such a humiliating state wasn't just a narrative tragedy; it was a system error that he, as a "professional player," could not ignore.

"Fuuuuuuuuff..."

Therefore, taking a deep breath and sensing the scent of the forest, his fingers positioned themselves over the game's most controversial command.

(Drip... slide...)

Thus, a solitary drop of cold sweat ran down his cheek, sliding toward his jawline.

(If I do this... there’s no turning back.)

Mireya was fully aware of the recklessness of his actions. He knew he was forcing a mechanic he deeply detested, a tool the game offered for the most toxic conflict possible... But even so...

(I am entering the other party's territory in the most aggressive way possible.)

With his heart beating a bit faster than usual, Mireya selected the Player vs Player Duel option, linking the transaction to the NTR Mechanic.

"Whatever happens, happens!!"

And pressing the button with a decisive click, the events set the chaos in motion.