I Woke Up Inside My Friend's Video Game

[Arc 2] Chapter 30. Where the game starts

Arc 2. Face Your Death with Courage

The icy winds howled as I stepped off the dock at Raven Rock, my Penitus Oculatus armor clinking with every movement. The chill bit at my skin, but I barely felt it. My mind was fixed on one thing: Hermaeus Mora.

Raven Rock, a forgotten outpost in the Northern Reach, was desolate. The sea, black as ink, crashed violently against the shore, and the sharp, metallic scent of saltwater filled the air. Every breath felt thick and heavy. The town itself—what was left of it—stood against the elements as if defying the inevitability of decay. I surveyed the jagged, dark cliffs surrounding the town. It wasn't just the cold that made this place inhospitable; it was the sense of something ancient, something watching.

"Outlander," a gruff voice called out from one of the few guards patrolling the dock. His armor was worn, and the exhaustion in his eyes said he had seen too much. "What brings you to this cursed rock?"

"I have business here," I replied, my voice firm. I didn't need to explain myself. Not here, not now. He gave me a hard stare but eventually stepped aside.

As I made my way further into town, the uneasy stares of the townsfolk followed me. I couldn't tell if they feared me, or if they feared what I had come to find. I pushed on, ignoring the tightness in my chest, the swirling thoughts, the doubt. Was I really ready for this?

The path ahead led towards the towering ash-drenched mountains in the distance, where I knew the real journey would begin. I needed to reach the Black Book. I needed answers—answers that only Hermaeus Mora could provide.

The wind howled around me as I stood at the edge of town, staring into the endless wilderness. I clenched my fists, my resolve firm. I would face whatever came my way. But deep down, I knew I was playing with forces far beyond my understanding. A shiver ran down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Hermaeus Mora," I whispered under my breath, the name slipping from my lips like a curse. The Prince of Knowledge awaited me, and whatever fate he had in store, I would face it head-on.

The air in Apocrypha was suffocating, thick with a swirling mist that clung to my skin. The Black Book had dragged me here—into the heart of Hermaeus Mora's twisted domain. As soon as I opened the damned thing, I felt a pull, like invisible hands yanking me through the pages. Now I stood in a realm that defied reason, where the sky swirled in sickly greens and purples, and grotesque tentacles slithered from every shadow.

The moment I arrived, I felt it—his presence. It was as if the very fabric of this place pulsed with the Daedric Prince's awareness. Books floated in the air, their pages turning on their own, whispering secrets in languages I couldn't even begin to comprehend. The landscape was littered with spires and towers, their architecture alien, wrong, in ways I couldn't fully describe. The stench of ink and decay filled my nostrils, burning with every breath.

I gripped my sword tighter, the weight of it grounding me in this nightmare. My armor clanked softly as I moved forward, each step echoing in the eerie silence. Suddenly, the ground beneath me rippled, as if alive, and the black, oily waters parted before me. From the shadows, he emerged.

Hermaeus Mora.

His form was a shifting mass of eyes and tendrils, writhing like a living nightmare. Those eyes—they were endless, staring deep into my soul, weighing my every thought, every action. His voice slithered into my mind, a whisper and a roar all at once.

"Jayson... mortal. You have come seeking knowledge, have you not? Power to bend fate... to shape destiny."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the unease from showing. "Yes," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos around me. "You granted me a portion of your power, but I need to unlock its full potential."