"I'm sorry to say this, my lord, but you've been infected with the Requiem Death, and there is no cure"
A boy with neck-length orange hair and a fine, thin fringe, soaked in sweat, lay in a big canopy bed.
His breath shallow and fading. He turned his eyes toward the doctor and with a soft, trembling voice, he asked,
"How long do I have?"
The doctor's hands tightened around his notes
"My lord, it's a Requiem Death caused by a powerful bacterium—Black Death"
Then he closed his notebook, his face clearly hesitant, and continued,
"Once infected, the body shuts down completely within five minutes, my lord."
The room was thick with silence.
With quiet acceptance, the boy closed his eyes and let himself drift into peaceful stillness. Yet the pain etched on his face could not be hidden.
The doctor hesitated to leave as he slowly opened the black door, his face was etched with sorrow, his expression filled with quiet pity for the boy.
"My lord, if I may—may I ask your name? I come from Meriondyll and don't know many people here on Arkana, though I do know of Earl Huston, your father."
The boy answered him with a weak and breathless voice. From the sound, it was obvious that the pain centered around his heart.
"Jolly."
"Jolly? That's a cheerful name, my lord."
"I know," he replied with a faint, pale smile.
"I was born during the Celestial Season — it was given to me by my caretaker at the orphanage where I used to live."
"Thank you for telling me, my lord." The doctor offered a bow to the young lord before he leaves him.
"Prepare your mind for your final moments."
As he left, a sliver of light slipped through a tall arched window, landing on a dusty mirror with a carved black frame. The wind hissed through a crack in the glass, swaying the iron chandelier overhead.
Jolly could hear the chatter of people outside the door, but he couldn't care less.
The old big clock read — 15:59 a.m.
Jolly touched where it pained the most — the heart. He could clearly feel his heartbeat slowing. His vision blurred. He knew his time had come.
I wonder whether I'll go to hell or heaven. Though my father is a devoted Zodist, I'm just a brat.
He closed his eyes and quietly listened as his heartbeat came to a stop. Then, everything went dark and silent.
.....
Suddenly, after a second, in the silence of that darkness, a deep voice echoed clearly:
**[Welcome to the Lower World, Resurrected]**
*[profile info]**
Name: Jolly
D.O.B: 191 AB, Aurellin 24, 17 years old.
Status : Nothing
Face Card: —
Core Abilities: —
Power Rank: Nothing
Current Passage: —
Challenges Completed: —
**[Trial: Kill 1 Wonder to enter the Cardroom]**
.....
Jolly opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was that the pain in his chest was gone, and his body felt whole—stable, as if he had never been infected.
He sat upright in the bed, staring at his palms, then exhaled slowly, filled with quiet wonder.
"What just happened?"
Checking whether anything was wrong, he believed everything was just a dream—but everything looked the same as before his death. And it was real.
He checked the clock and calendar, desperate to confirm whether any time had truly passed—or if this was all just some illusion.
The clock now read — 16:00 p.m., and the calendar displayed —Friday, Marowen 28, 208 AB [After Bestowal]
It's still today...
Jolly rose from the bed and stood in front of the dark, dusty mirror. What he saw shocked him. There, he saw a small, shining box glowing within his chest, which embedded where his heart should be.
Jolly was curious to know what it was. The box was small and shone brightly within his chest, making it almost too hard to see clearly—but it looked like a miniature case used to store playing cards.
Then he pressed his hand over it. He could feel his heartbeat again!
Did this thing replace my heart... so I could live again?
Jolly was smart enough to notice the changes around him. He knew the symptoms—everyone did. But no one knew what came after.
Not unless they'd been infected.
"So..is this a symptoms of Requiem Death? I was definitely dead for 1 minute..."
...
Jolly stepped out of his room. The manor was quiet and cold—unlike any other day. He opened the main entrance door and walked into the yard. Some butlers had already cleaned it.
As he was looking around, an old man with a familiar face, wearing a blouse, a black jacket, and a hat, approached, leaning on a cane.
"I haven't seen you before," the man said. "May I ask what a Resurrected is doing in my manor?"
Jolly froze, caught off guard.
"Are you here to help your father with the chores?"
Jolly didn't know how to respond. He glanced at the old man's face for a moment, and quietly replied,
"Yes."
"I wish I had a son like you," the old man smiled while his fingers moved silently across the beads of Zodist rosary.
Jolly lowered his gaze and, with a dull expression, quietly asked,
"Do you have any?"
"No," the man replied, "but if I ever have, I want to be a good father." He laughed.
Jolly decided to turn and leave the manor. But just before stepping away, he looked back with a gentle smile and said,
"I know you will."
Jolly understood the situation clearly. He smiled —
Guess I'm an orphan again… but thanks for everything you've done for me. Truly.
.....
**[Reminder: Complete the trial to enter the Cardroom]**
Jolly suddenly heard the voice again—the same deep, echoing voice from before.
He knew he had to complete the task. But how? He didn't even know where to begin.
He wandered through the streets. It looked like a normal day… but something felt off.
Steam rose from the hood of a black car as people walked by in dark and fancy clothes. Long skirts swayed, coats with silver buttons flashed in the gaslight.
Shops displayed corsets, clocks, and old mirrors in their windows. The street smelled like flowers, smoke, and rain.
Near the junction by the Zodist Church, on the left corner, there was a small tea shop with dusty windows and a faded sign, tucked under a black awning. A few iron tables sat outside, their legs shaped like vines, with chairs pulled in to keep out the cold.
At one table, a group of middle-aged men sat together. Smoke curled from the tips of their cigarettes as they shuffled cards between their fingers. They wore black jackets over lace-trimmed shirts, wide hats casting shadows over their eyes.They kept their cane leaning against the chair.
"Did you know Wonders have been appearing on Connecticut lately?"
one man said, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he dealt his King of Clover card.
"If you don't want to die, don't ever go there."
Jolly heard their conversation as he passed by, the scent of smoke and tea still hanging in the air.
He had no idea when people started talking about these things—Wonders, they called them. He didn't even know what they were. No one ever spoke of such things before he was Resurrected.
He pretended to read the newspaper and took the nearest seat. The pages were filled with stories about Wonders. On the front page, the headline read:
**— Arkana Top News**
*The Monarch Resurrected Cecilion Llewellyn was awarded by the queen for slaying a high-ranking Wonder yesterday, Thursday, Marowen 27, 208 AB.*
"Yesterday? But nothing happened yesterday…" he murmured.
Turning the page, he found a warning:
*Wonders are more active during the Eclipse Season. Citizens are advised to stay alert.
He sighed.
So… this is what the Lower World is like? I need to do what the voice said. There's still so much I have to learn here.
He realized that as a Resurrected, he had lost everything—his house, his status, his family. He's nobody now.
And with nowhere else to go, Jolly started walking toward Connecticut drawn by the strange pull to complete his trial as the voice said.
"Don't use the wild card, you bastard!" one of the men shouted behind him while playing the cards, followed by a burst of laughter.
....
The street was infamous for its pointed arches, ribbed vaults, and looming flying buttresses, all shrouded in grim, shadowy paint.
Jolly had never walked this path before—not even before his resurrection.
Just past, the Zodist Church, he spotted a small antique shop tucked between two stone towers. In its dusty window stood a cane that caught his eye.
It was a short red cane, speckled with black, topped with a crow's skull whose beak curved into a razor-sharp point.
"I've never seen a cane like this before," Jolly murmured.
Inside the shop. the space was cramped, cluttered with relics and trinkets from a hundred forgotten ages. Among the antiques were religious talismans.
Near the entrance, beside where the cane had rested, stood an old mannequin dressed in a strange, full-body suit unlike anything Jolly had ever seen.
"Are you here to buy that Serace?"
The voice startled him. He spun around—only to recoil slightly. Jolly cleared his throat and asked the price of the cane.
"I can see why you're not wearing a Serace... You're just a Nothing," she said with a sneer.
Jolly turned to leave after buying the cane, but the woman's voice followed him like a curse.
"What's are you doing..walking towards Connecticut?"
"I have a trial to complete," Jolly replied, his voice steady.
The old woman cackled, a sound like bones clattering in a box.
"Many Wonders wander there. What can a Nothing like you possibly do?"
Then she slammed the door shut behind him.
Her words clung to him like a curse. But Jolly had no choice. He had to pass the trial—if he ever hoped to understand this strange place called the Lower World, a world where things exist that never existed before.