A lone figure stood in the rain with an umbrella on hand, wearing simple clothing of shirt, pants and crocs. Waiting for a bus that might never come, but still stood there. Waiting.. and waiting.. seemingly at peace with himself.
No one but himself to bother, alone with his own thoughts.
A light came at the corner of his viewpoint.
_______________________________________
- Ballet shoes of aged long passed, its owner was a practitioner of gymnastics and ballet dancers. Capable of delivering precise and sharp strikes if used correctly.
+7 ATK
_______________________________________
No way in whatever underworld in hell is he going to use this.
Placing the Ballet shoes in the Dimensional box or as he liked to call it, 'Box.' He finds himself equipping the tough gloves he found inside of the box, which is curious since he wonders if someone just left that there for others to take or it was less than what they had.
The gloves fit just right with his hands. It looks like mittens due to how it is structured but he didn't mind especially if it's in the cold.
As he messed around with the system he finally finds a way to "Check" himself.
_______________________________________
"Sans (Desolation AU)"
LV: 1
HP: 50/50
AT: 20 (5) EXP: 0
DF: 20 (10) NEXT: 10
WEAPON: TOUGH GLOVES
ARMOR: AZURE JACKET
GOLD: 74
_______________________________________
A frown was given, there's something wrong here and he couldn't help but think of why.
He scratched his head in wonder to what it could be. His stats seemed to be pretty good.. at least, for a Level 1 if he was going at it by an MMORPG but something doesn't feel right. He felt a great sense of disgust when he referred to it as level, maybe it isn't level? He rubbed the bridge of his nose hole before he went off, finding himself nearing a path that was heavily showered upon by the cracks of the ceiling leading to a great ocean. It's a surprise that the ceiling hasn't collapse in and on itself by the weight of the ocean and the amount of leaking that's been occuring. Erosion is very much real.
Grasping one of the many umbrellas left here by monsters he would never ever learn their existence of, or know personally due to his belief that the entire underground is dead. In ruins, maybe a civil war? An invasion? A pandemic? Who knows. There's too many variables leaning to it being a sort of civil war.
His thoughts paused, how does he know that? His eyes narrow. Something's wrong, he can somewhat deduce the happenings of ruins long past as if he has experience with it. Also the fact that he has no memories of anything aside from the drifting memories circulating within his mind, unlocking themselves bit by bit but its effects were strong to both his mind, body, and soul.
He looked down at his umbrella for a moment, uncurling it and letting it widen.
Rain has been temporarily fixed. He shook his head and continue his journey to find answers..
or satiate his need to explore the entirety of the underground.
Entirety is a stretch.
The droplets of the rain above mute any other sounds present as he walked. He couldn't help but feel calmed by the noise, the droplets fell and splashed against his unbrella along with more and more and more and more.
YOU ARE READING
Desolate Expedition
FanfictionA person of unknown origin find themselves in an unfamiliar body with snippets of memories seeping through their mind. with a power so different from any other. Lost and alone. What will they do? Who would be so cruel to leave them in this state? ...
