LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 2: chapter 2 The Umbra
The Story Inside the Novel
It began on an ordinary day, or so everyone thought. One moment, life moved as it always did—cars honked in crowded streets, children laughed in schoolyards, and the hum of daily existence carried on. The next moment, everything changed.
A translucent, glowing screen flickered into existence before every human on Earth, hovering just out of reach. It radiated an eerie blue light, but what froze everyone in place were the words written on it:
"Earth is dying. Humanity is killing her. But Earth still loves her creation."
The message pulsed, its meaning sinking in like the sharp drop of a stone into still water. People gasped, whispered, or simply stood in stunned silence. The screen continued:
"Participate in the Global Resource Fight to redeem yourselves."
No further explanation followed. Just like that, the screen disappeared, leaving behind a disquieting stillness. But the quiet didn't last.
Gates of Chaos
The ground trembled. The sky, once steady, swirled with unnatural hues. Massive gates, their frames carved with symbols no one could decipher, erupted across the world. They towered over buildings, their surfaces shimmering like liquid glass.
From the gates poured creatures out of nightmares—monsters that defied logic. Trees twisted into grotesque beasts; rivers boiled and birthed serpents of water and flame. The very air seemed alive, vibrating with menace.
And then came the towers.
They rose overnight, piercing the clouds, their black spires an ominous reminder that humanity was no longer the apex predator. The towers brought challenges—levels filled with traps, puzzles, and deadly foes. Each promised rewards, but at a cost, most weren't willing to pay.
Dungeons opened their maws in the earth, beckoning the brave—or the desperate—into their depths: few who entered returned, but those who did bring treasures of unimaginable power.
The world spiralled into chaos. Countries fell. Cities were overrun. The earth, once humanity's home, had turned into its harshest battleground.
Heroes and Betrayal
Amid the carnage, a miracle occurred. People who had vanished a year earlier—ordinary men and women plucked from existence without a trace—reappeared. But they were no longer the same.
They wielded strange, otherworldly powers. One man conjured storms with a flick of his wrist; another shattered mountain with a single punch. A woman healed an entire village, her hands glowing with soft, golden light.
These returnees, dubbed heroes, became humanity's saviours. They fought the monsters, cleared dungeons, and pushed back the tide of destruction. Their sacrifices gave humanity a chance to regroup, to hope again.
But even hope comes with a price.
As the chaos subsided, factions rose. Not all heroes were altruistic. Greed and ambition tainted many, and alliances fractured under the weight of power struggles. The Global Organization was born out of necessity, a united force to regulate the chaos and protect the Earth.
It worked—for a time.
The New World Order
Because of its strategic geography, the Global Organization, headquartered in India, became the beating heart of humanity's resistance. Natural mountain ranges provided defensive strongholds, while the vast coastline offered trade and mobility.
What started as a beacon of hope turned into a machine of bureaucracy and ambition. Guilds from across the world flocked to join its ranks, each vying for influence. Industries flourished, fueled by dungeon materials and the insatiable demand for weapons, potions, and enchanted artifacts.
The economy thrived, but shadows lingered. Whispers of corruption and betrayal crept into the halls of power. Heroes who were once saviours now sat as overlords, their motivations veiled in secrecy.
Meanwhile, the gates remained. Towers stood unyielding. And the question no one dared to ask echoed in the hearts of the brave and the fearful alike:
What lies beyond?
A World on Edge
The earth had changed irreversibly. Humanity adapted, but survival came at a cost. Cities became fortresses. Children were trained to fight from the moment they could hold a weapon. The weak perished, and the strong thrived—but strength was fleeting in a world where gods and demons walked among mortals.
This was the world Rishitha found herself in—a world teetering on the edge of salvation or destruction. A place where every decision mattered, where alliances could make or break a future, and where a single misstep could unravel everything.
Rishitha knew one thing: the story she was thrown into wasn't just a tale of survival. It was a test.
Of humanity.
Of hope.
Of her.
The Forest of Monsters
The Umbra.
Even in this twisted world, the name carried weight. A global organization that was both a beacon of hope and a symbol of authority. Umbra's influence stretched across continents, with schools and colleges bearing its name, training awakened individuals to face the horrors that plagued the land. They were humanity's line of defense, a collective of heroes, hunters, and scholars tasked with clearing dungeons, slaying monsters, and climbing towers.
In this story, the hero of the world, Mu Tianyu, was an SSS-rank Sword Master. His exploits were legendary, his talent unmatched. A perfect protagonist, the saviour who rallied nations and wielded power with unparalleled grace.
But what am I? A nobody.
The forest stretched endlessly before me, an overwhelming sea of green and shadows. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent shivers down my spine. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and something more sinister—blood, perhaps, or decay. Monsters lurked in every corner, their glowing eyes piercing through the dense foliage.
The kids around me moved with an unnatural confidence, their faces calm, their movements precise. They acted like adults, calculating and strategic, as if this was their everyday life. For me, it wasn't.
The system's robotic voice interrupted my spiralling thoughts.
[Host, are you okay? Based on your mental state, you're not okay.]
I gritted my teeth, clenching my fists to steady myself. "I don't know," I whispered. "I don't even know what's real or fake anymore. What's right? What's wrong? Am I really here, or is this all just some elaborate nightmare?"
The voice was unyielding, emotionless.
[Host, even if it is a dream, at least save your parents in it.]
That stopped me cold.
The image of my parents flashed in my mind—my mother's tired but loving smile, my father's abusive presence. They had been my anchor in a world that often felt cruel. And now, even in this nightmare, they were my reason to keep going.
"You're right," I murmured. "But I don't know how. I feel like I'm drowning."
[Host, I can help stabilize your mind, but I need your permission to proceed.]
"Do it," I said without hesitation.
A strange warmth washed over me, spreading from my chest to the tips of my fingers. My breathing slowed, my racing thoughts quieted. For a brief moment, I felt... calm.
[How are you feeling now, Host?]
"Better," I replied, though the hollowness in my voice betrayed me. "But it's not enough."
[I can provide medicine, Host, not a cure.]
It was an answer I didn't want to hear, but I couldn't argue with it. The system could only do so much. The rest was up to me.
As we walked deeper into the forest, the monstrous cries grew louder, echoing through the trees. My companions—these children who carried themselves like seasoned warriors—seemed unfazed. But I couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at me.
What was this place? Why was I here?
And most importantly, how could I survive long enough to figure it out?
The silence between us was broken by Mo Tong. "If you keep spacing out, you'll end up as monster bait."
Her words stung, but there was no malice in them—just blunt honesty.
"Right," I said, forcing myself to focus.
Ragith chuckled, his smile widening. "Don't mind her. She just doesn't want to waste time-saving you."
Mo Tong shot him a glare but didn't deny it.
As I watched them, I couldn't help but marvel at how easily they navigated this world. Mo Tong, with her sharp, commanding presence. Ragith, with his charm, hid a dangerous edge. They were villains in the story I'd read, destined for betrayal and bloodshed.
But here and now, they were my only allies.
And if I wanted to survive, I'd have to figure out where I stood in their story.
The Book That Saved Me
The story wasn't just a story to me. It was my sanctuary, my shield, and my escape.
Seventh grade.
The bruises on my arm ached with every movement, a sharp reminder of my father's anger. His voice thundered through the house, each syllable a jagged edge slicing through my resolve. I curled up on my bed, my knees pulled tight to my chest, trying to make myself small, invisible.
My fingers trembled as they reached for the book on the nightstand. I opened it, and the world changed.
The saint, Anya, stood tall on the page, her golden aura shimmering as she faced a monstrous foe twice her size. Her expression was calm, her hands steady, as she whispered a prayer that sent light cascading through the dark battlefield.
I traced her figure on the page, my breathing slowing. For a moment, I wasn't in my room. I wasn't listening to my father's rage. I was with her, basking in her light, believing—if only briefly—that strength like hers could exist.
The school wasn't much better.
The crash of books hitting the floor echoed through the classroom. I stared down at them, scattered like broken pieces of me. My heart pounded as the laughter started—sharp and merciless.
"Oops," someone said with a smirk. "Guess your hands aren't as good as your dancing, huh?"
Heat burned my cheeks, and tears threatened to spill, but I wouldn't let them. Not here. Not now.
I knelt to gather my books, my fingers brushing against the worn cover of The Hero's Call. I clutched it to my chest like a lifeline, ignoring the jeers around me.
Later, in the library, I flipped to a chapter about Lu Yongqi. The rival's fiery eyes burned with determination as he faced a council of elders who doubted his abilities. He didn't flinch, didn't falter.
"I'll prove you wrong," he declared.
I whispered those words to myself, my voice trembling but resolute.
College was supposed to be different, but it wasn't.
The screen of my phone lit up with a barrage of messages. Mocking memes, cruel comments, and twisted lies filled the group chat. My chest tightened, and the room seemed to close in around me.
I turned off my phone, my hands shaking, and reached for the book on my desk.
Mu Tianyu's blade sliced through the air on the page, his movements fluid and unyielding. He stood at the peak of a dungeon, surrounded by fallen enemies, his breathing steady despite the blood staining his armour.
I ran my fingers over his name, imagining his resolve, his strength. For a moment, the weight on my chest lifted.
On the day of the accident, the book was with me.
The car swerved, the tyres screeched, and the world spun. My mother screamed, the sound piercing and raw. Glass shattered, and the metallic crunch of impact rang in my ears.
But in those chaotic moments, my eyes were on the words in front of me.
Anya's hand reached out to a fallen comrade, her golden light healing his wounds. Her voice, steady and soothing, cut through the chaos.
"You're not alone," she said.
Then, darkness.
Now, here I was, walking through a forest that felt both real and unreal. The air smelled of damp earth and moss, and the faint chirping of unseen creatures filled the silence. My fingers brushed against the rough bark of a tree, grounding me in this strange new world.
This wasn't just a story anymore.
As I walked, the weight of the book's history—the weight of my history with it—settled in my chest. For years, it had saved me from my reality. Now, I was a part of it.
I didn't know if I was ready to face this world, but I owed it everything. Maybe here, I could finally find my strength.
The quiet hum of the forest surrounded us as we took a moment to rest, the sounds of distant creatures barely audible over the soft crackle of the fire. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, and every now and then, the ground beneath us shifted with an almost unnoticeable tremor, as if the world itself was alive.
Mo Tong, ever the calm one, sat cross-legged near the fire, absently flicking a twig into the flames. Her gaze was distant, though I could see the glint of curiosity in her eyes when she turned toward me.
"So," she began, breaking the silence, "tell me about your family."
I hesitated, unsure of where to start. I wasn't used to talking about my family, especially not after everything. But there was something about Mo Tong's tone that made me want to share. Maybe it was the quiet understanding in her voice, or maybe it was the fact that she had no judgment in her eyes.
"Well," I said, glancing down at my hands, "I've got three brothers—Rajesh, Arjun, and Aarav. Rajesh is the eldest, always serious and protective, but Arjun is the troublemaker. He's the one who always drags us into his schemes, even if they get us into trouble. Aarav's the youngest—he's quiet but smart. I think he'll end up being the one who fixes everything when the world's falling apart."
Mo Tong chuckled. "Sounds like a handful."
"Yeah, but they're family. They look out for me, even when I don't ask for it." My lips curved slightly as I thought about them.
"What about your mom?" she asked, her voice softer now. "What's she like?"
I smiled, my heart warming. "My mom, Laxmi—she's… strong. Always calm, even when things are falling apart. She's the glue that holds everything together." I paused for a moment, eyes drifting over to the flickering flames. "I don't know what I'd do without her. She's always believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself."
There was a long pause, and I noticed Mo Tong's gaze softened. "Sounds like you're close."
I nodded, feeling the lump form in my throat. "Yeah, I am. I just wish I could do more for her. You know… she didn't deserve any of the things that happened to us."
Mo Tong shifted, her eyes darkening briefly before she spoke. "I get it. My mom… she sacrificed a lot for me. For us. But my dad..." She trailed off, her voice losing its usual edge. "He wasn't like your mom. He didn't care. And my brother—he doesn't even know everything that happened."
I wasn't sure what to say. The hurt in Mo Tong's voice was unmistakable, and I could tell there was more to her story than she was letting on. But she didn't want pity, and neither did I.
"So," I said, trying to steer the conversation in a lighter direction, "you've got a brother, huh? Sounds like you're the protective one."
Mo Tong smirked, her usual confidence flickering back. "I'd like to think so. But he's stubborn. Thinks he can handle everything himself. Typical little brother, right?"
I laughed. "Yeah, I get that. Aarav's like that too. Thinks he's got it all figured out."
Mo Tong nodded, then glanced at me thoughtfully. "I'm sure you'd do anything to protect them, right?"
I met her gaze, feeling a sense of connection spark between us. "Of course. I would do anything."
There was an unspoken understanding between us, a bond forged through our shared desire to protect those we loved. In this strange, twisted world, it was nice to know that there were people who still cared, who still fought for something greater than themselves.
"Me too," Mo Tong said quietly. "I came here to save my family, to fix what was broken."
I was about to respond when I heard a distant rustling in the trees. My pulse quickened, and I could feel the tension return to my body. Mo Tong didn't even flinch.
She stood, brushing the dirt off her pants, and gave me a half-smile. "Rest up. We've got a long way to go."
As she turned to check on the others, I sat there for a moment, reflecting on everything she'd said. Despite the danger we were walking into, despite the unknowns and the constant threat of monsters and dungeons, I felt something shift inside me.
Maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I thought.
As I spoke to Mo Tong, something felt off—like the world itself had shifted. The way she spoke, the way she looked at me—it wasn't like talking to a character. She felt real. The kind of real you could touch, you could feel. Her words had weight like they were carved into the air itself.
I could sense something pulling at the edges of my mind, but I couldn't quite place it. Was this just another chapter in a story I'd read before, or was it something more? Could this world really be... real?
DONG!
The ground beneath me trembled, and the deep, resonating sound cut through the stillness of the forest like thunder, but it wasn't a storm. It was something else, something primal. I felt it in my bones, the air thickening as though the earth itself was holding its breath.
Mo Tong's eyes darted to the sky, and I followed her gaze. What I saw made my pulse spike, a chill crawling down my spine.
In front of us, suspended like a spectre, was a creature I couldn't have dreamed up if I tried. A being—half-deer, half-human—its legs long and delicate, its body graceful, almost fluid. Its face, a strange blend of doe-like features with human eyes, stared at us with a knowing gaze, and its presence made the world around us feel unreal. The trees, the air, the ground—it all seemed distant, like a painting I could reach out and touch but never fully grasp.
"Welcome to 213 Talent Awakening," a voice rang out, melodic yet commanding, vibrating through the air like the pulse of the earth itself. The creature didn't move its lips, but the voice reached us perfectly clear, vibrating with power.
"Main mission is to begin," it continued, its tone smooth but heavy, carrying a gravity that made it impossible to ignore. "Your guide will explain everything."
My body froze. My mind spun, trying to make sense of what was happening. Is this real? I asked myself again, the words echoing in my skull. What was going on? Was I dreaming? Was this another one of those crazy system scenarios from a novel? My heart hammered in my chest, too loud, too fast. I couldn't make sense of it.
Then the creature moved, gliding forward with an elegance that made my breath catch. It wasn't like walking—it was as though it was floating. I could feel the weight of its power in the air, but it didn't feel threatening. There was something oddly comforting about it, but at the same time, unsettling.
"Hello," it said, its voice now a strange mix of warmth and cold. "I am David. Your guide for the 213 Talent Awakening. I am half-beast, born of this world. This is Tia, and you are in the Elza Kingdom."
The name "Elza" didn't ring any bells, but the way the creature spoke made it sound like it was important—like this kingdom was something everyone should know.
David paused, eyes gleaming with an unspoken knowledge. The air around him seemed to thrum with an energy I couldn't place.
"The forces of darkness have kidnapped the princess of Elza," he continued, his voice low and serious. "The people have been torn apart—tortured, twisted. The ones behind it all speak in riddles, cloaked in strange riddles and cryptic movements. This kingdom, this world, is in grave danger."
I blinked, my mind struggling to catch up. A princess? Kidnapped? This wasn't like the stories I'd read. No, this wasn't a plot I recognized. But this creature... I thought, staring at David. He wasn't part of any story I knew. This world, this place, was different.
I glanced over at Mo Tong, but her expression was unreadable. Her usual brash confidence was gone, replaced by an unreadable gaze. She was processing this, just like I was.
David's gaze turned back to us, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this world than I'd ever imagined.
"Your mission is clear," David said, his voice growing more somber. "You must restore balance. You must correct the path this world is on before it collapses in on itself. Only those truly worthy will survive this."
His words cut through me like a knife. Restoring balance? Surviving? This wasn't just a simple mission—it was a battle for this world's very survival. And I had no idea how to prepare for what was coming.
As David's voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything around me was holding its breath. The trees stood tall, their leaves rustling softly in the wind, the scent of damp earth and pine heavy in the air. Every word he spoke seemed to vibrate with an intensity that matched the quiet tension in the atmosphere.
"Your mission," David began, his voice unwavering but tinged with a quiet urgency, "is to rescue the princess, Anya, and kill the sorceress who holds her captive. But the path you walk is not one for the faint-hearted."
As he spoke, his movements became fluid—each word punctuated by graceful gestures, as if to demonstrate the weight of the mission. When he said "rescue," his palm faced upward, as though offering us the chance to rise. But when he spoke of the sorceress, he hunched his shoulders and his eyes darkened, the weight of the task pressing down on him, too.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my throat dry. I glanced at Mo Tong beside me. Her face was unreadable, but the tightness of her jaw told me she, too, understood the gravity of what was being asked of us. Was this really happening? Or was I caught in another one of the world's illusions?
David's gaze flickered over us as he continued, his posture shifting as he outlined the steps of the mission. "After you rescue the princess, there are more tasks to complete," he said, his voice growing sharper as he spoke of the dangers ahead. "Kill at least ten level-one monsters. Find your way through this forest, where every shadow hides a threat."
A chill crept down my spine as his words sank in. The air felt heavier now, as though the trees themselves were watching us, waiting for our next move. The sounds of the forest had become muffled, the usual rustling leaves now eerily silent.
"Convince the wise dragon to help you," David added, his body leaning forward slightly, his expression intense. "Survive for ten days in this forest. Whatever creatures or monsters lurk here, you must endure."
I swallowed hard, the taste of fear rising in my throat. What was waiting for us in this forest? My mind raced with the possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.
"And then," David's voice dropped, his tone almost a whisper, "you must defeat the minions of the wizard and save the world from collapse." His hand moved with a sharp, sweeping motion, as if cutting through the uncertainty that hung in the air.
The forest around us seemed to press in, as if listening to the weight of his words. My breath caught as I realized the true scope of what we were being asked to do. This wasn't just a quest. This was a battle for survival, for the future of this world. But was it real? Could we truly change anything here?
David's gaze softened for a moment, almost wistful, before he finished. "And finally, make sure the princess marries the prince. The fate of the kingdom depends on it."
As he spoke, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves above us in a soft whisper. The scent of pine grew stronger, mingling with a faint trace of something unfamiliar—something ancient. The forest itself seemed to respond to the mission being set before us.
David's posture relaxed slightly, his body language shifting to something more solemn, as if the weight of the mission had settled into him once again. I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes—an unspoken sadness, perhaps, or a warning. His words were clear, but the message beneath them was not.
"The status window is now open," he said, gesturing to the air before us, where a soft blue screen flickered into existence. It pulsed with light, offering a glimpse of the quest and the tasks we were meant to undertake. "Track your progress. Awaken your talents. Use them wisely. But remember—the world is not as it seems. Every decision you make will shape the future."
As the screen appeared, a shiver ran down my spine. I felt the weight of the world pressing in from all sides, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something far darker was at play here. This world, the mission—it was all too perfect, too neat. There had to be a catch, a secret waiting just beneath the surface.
David's body shifted again, as if urging us to begin. The air around us crackled with energy, and the trees seemed to lean in closer, their branches swaying as if to guide us forward.
"This is your journey now," David said softly, his voice both an invitation and a command. "May the forces guide you."
And with that, he was gone—vanishing into the trees as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving us to face the unknown.