Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, a young university student brimming with potential got hit by a truck on a normal school day. Unsurprisingly, the young man fucking died. Dead on collision. Perhaps the only thing that could have been unique about his death was his final thoughts, cursing the renowned game “Star Rail” with so much intensity that it would have made the ears of his professors bleed out. Ensnared by his hatred of the recent plotline, the young man failed to read his surroundings with his usual levels of observation. (Arguably, it was a less embarrassing death than, say, choking on a meat bun while reading the ending to your most hated and loved harem novel. Or spilling your noodles on your computer.)

The last thing he saw was quite expected (the blaring lights of the truck, the driver’s terror as he tried to reverse the tragedy unfolding, his fear reflected in the eyes of the driver—) but the last thing he heard?

[Activation Code：(STUPID DEVS, STUPID ENDING) SYSTEM AUTOMATICALLY UNLOCKED]

Like the day he died, his funeral was nothing special. It didn’t rain, but it was not particularly sunny, either. The only attendees were either family or past teachers, and the funeral could have been described as ‘intimate’ if the dead boy was close to any of the attendees.

The teachers lamented the loss of potential (“So young, so much potential. What a shame…”) while his parents stiffly stared at the casket as if they did not know what to do. A single tear slid down their faces.

[???: Oh my Aeons! Who cares right now; everyone knows that the original life of the transmigrated fo̮͝o̜͡l͍͘ is superfluous! BOOOOO HOOOOOO! We want to get to the g̛͉oö̺́d̩͋ p͍̕á̦r̰͡t͈̽!!!]

The world went black, fear and confusion and everything else melted into the complete void. There was only one thing the boy was sure of: he was dead. There was no room for anything else but a vague resignation in the strange void, so he felt nothing.

[ERROR. ERROR. Ė͍̭̉R̰͎̕͠Ȑ̢̗̆Ǫ̯͌͌R̭̻̋͠. UNABLE TO FIND SUITABLE HOST.]

A plain text box floated in the abyss, stinging his eyes. Strange, he distantly noted. If he were truly dead, surely he wouldn’t feel a thing. But then again, this was a truly unprecedented experience for him. But even that feeble curiosity soon passed. The void swallowed everything. The light from the text box continued to sear its lurid, comic-sans words into his skull. He wanted to groan at it, but he had no body to groan with.

[NORMAL PROCEDURE CANNOT COMMENCE — SANDBOX MODE INITIATED. YOU WILL BE TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER LIVING ORGANISM AT RANDOM. MAY USER HAVE A SATISFACTORY EXPERIENCE, AS THIS SYSTEM CANNOT GUARANTEE ANYTHING.]

As a veteran player of “Star Rail” who was once subjected to months and months of suffering from RNG, he felt a flicker of fear jolt through his system. But even that spark of emotion soon blew out as he felt himself descending to another plane of existence.

At the core of every single organism, from a human to a dog to a bug, there is one main instinct guiding all actions: to survive. Even something as dumb as a worm is no different, as they live out their existence to fulfil their environmental niche, survive then die. Communicating this to a worm would not work, however, as they are not sentient (at least not on this planet).

The worm survives to squirm about in the earth, mocked and unappreciated by sentient lifeforms, for another day, only to squirm around the next day in an unending cycle until they die. One cannot imagine the worm as happy, anyway, because the worm does not feel any emotions.

One day, an Aeon floated onto a patch of ground, scheming, plotting and full of unhinged whimsy. THEY take a look at an unassuming, ordinary noblesse worm. Despite its fanciful name, it is a common worm. Its only defining characteristic is the stripe of blue and white across its slimy body. To an Aeon, all lifeforms are mere specks of existence to them. However, this Aeon was not looking for anything extraordinary for THEIR
newest scheme to mess around with the other Aeons.

If THEIR thoughts were translated to something a mortal could understand without getting insta-killed, it could be translated as: “The Destruction is crazy, and the Preservation is dumb. All the Aeons are stubborn — OH MY AEONS THIS WILL BE HILARIOUS!” And so Aha scooped out the wriggling worm, and gave it the gift of intelligence, a new body and a purpose.

Could a worm become a member of little Nousy-Wousy’s elite genius club? Imagine if the Aeon of Smartness or whatever got completely blindsided by a worm!

THEY laughed and laughed and laughed once they recognised the pathetic worm as a transmigrator. Wasn’t the whole point of transmigration to become a cooler person and fulfil your past regrets and stop being a complete dweeb? If Aha cared, THEY might have pondered why there were no available roles in this universe. But THEY only laughed even harder, a chorus of party poppers joining in. The no-longer-a-worm-thing started to wail, face blooming with redness, joining in with Aha’s laughter. Aha attached THEMSELF to the weak and puny system, giving THEM admin rights.

[WARNING! SYSTEM UNDER ATTACK BY UNKNOWN VARIABLE. W̫͖̾̀A̢̩̍̚R͙̪̂͞N̻̲̾̅Ī͎̰̀—]

[???: CONGRATULATIONS! CONGRATULATIONS! CONGRATULATIONS! AHA HAS GAZED UPON YOU! YOU SHALL BECOME THE AWESOME-EST, NERDIEST SUPPORTING CHARACTER TO THE SECOND PROTAGONIST: AVENTURINE, EVERYONE’S FAVOURITE GAMBLER!!!]

The baby wailed more, harmonising wonderfully with Aha’s cackles. It waved its stubby little limbs around without a milligram of grace, unable to actually do anything. Aha picked the baby up with a multitude of masks and floated to the nearest house that THEY were technically trespassing on.

Taking sheer, unadulterated glee from such cliche antics, THEY placed the baby in a little basket and rang the doorbell. As the fool always rang twice, Aha rang the doorbell again, giggling as the sound reverberated throughout the house.

The baby now stopped wailing, but tears still collected in his big, round eyes. Despite only being birthed for a minute, the infant glared fiercely at the Aeon, pudgy fists waving about. Aha vanished in a wave of confetti, leaving behind an infant, confetti and a parting message.

[?͚͠?͔̑?̢͗: JUST KEEP ON CRYING!]

"You don't believe me?"

Dr Ratio, an upstanding member of society regarded as a genius throughout the cosmos, was rendered speechless by the Stoneheart guiding Ratio’s unsteady gun to his own chest.

"Seems like I'll need to get you up to speed on how I do things if our cooperation were to remain amicable." He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile

The stranger, Aventurine, leered at the doctor, eyes glinting in challenge. His eyes gleamed in the shadows, mesmerising. Even in the game, Aventurine’s model had captivating eyes. In person, however, unshadowed from his usual sunglasses, his lurid, heterochromatic eyes were piercing.

The doctor stared helplessly as the reckless man adjusted the barrel of the gun even closer to his heart. If the gun fired, Aventurine would be dead on impact. His mind raced, blinded in rare panic, unable to even begin understanding the cause of the other’s actions. While it was established in the game that Aventurine was blessed by extraordinary, supernatural luck, surely the Stoneheart wasn’t foolhardy enough to stake his life on a game of chance?

As Ratio recalled Aventurine’s grand plan involving one of Penacony’s politically strongest figures and three Cornerstones, he remembered that, yes, Aventurine held little regard for his life and saw it as a mere bargaining chip. Ratio was appalled, but that didn’t stop him from cancelling that fool’s scheme the moment he realised that Aventurine would use anything to prove his luck. Aventurine moved his hand to position it above the doctor’s finger. They both pressed down on the trigger.

Three empty clicks resonated through the quiet air they breathed, each one making his stomach lurch in dread. The smile on the other’s face remained the same — a farce

"Life is a grand gamble," the Stoneheart announced with a steady voice, “and I'll always be the final victor."

Aventurine’s smile then brightened in success, the action finally kick-starting Ratio’s stunned brain. He flung the gun away, snapping his view away from the piercing, goading eyes and the empty smile. Ratio did not often find himself at a loss for words or actions, but it happened anyway. He could feel his pulse hammering wildly in his throat, face stuck in muted dread. Anger slowly steeped in through the rough edges of panic and shock.

“If our cooperation were to remain amicable,” Veritas spat out with such vehemence that almost surprised himself, “do not put me in such a position that could harm you, gambler.”

Unable to stomach what could have happened if the gambler’s luck had failed him, the doctor fled.

In his temporary apartment in Pier Point, Veritas put his head into his hands and groaned miserably. That debacle was…unexpected. While he knew of Aventurine’s gambling habits from watching the character in “Star Rail” take increasingly dangerous risks, it was painfully different to see it from his own eyes, without any information from the game.

Initially, the Stoneheart had no named supporting characters helping him complete his plan. As Ratio did not have a role to occupy, it meant that he had the opportunity to potentially change Aventurine’s schemes.

Frankly, if it were completely up to Ratio, he would not even touch that mission with a ten-foot pole, even though he was interested in meeting Aventurine. After several meetings and witnessing Aventurine’s blasé approach to his life, Ratio could feel the desire to change the damned mission growing on him like a persistent fungus.

As Ratio started an extra-calming bath (lavender-scented with an abundance of bubbles), he considered the situation further. If Ratio decided to bail out now, there would be consequences, as the IPC were likely to coerce him into taking on the mission, as all the other potential candidates had all declined after one meeting. Additionally, the IPC would take back the offer of additional funding for the Intelligentsia Guild.

Ratio sunk further into his bath, absently watching the rubber duck Clotho soothingly bob up and down. He let out an agonised groan that nobody would ever hear. “Fine,” Ratio acquiesced, with the air of a man arriving at the gallows. He knew that he wouldn’t even feel a modicum of peace for the coming months. “I’ll take on that damned mission.”

[...POWER SOURCE LOCATED. NOW INITIALISING START UP. 37% COMPLETE]

Ratio was jerked out of his relaxed state, cursing under his breath at the previously absent System. When he was twelve years old for a second time (he refuses to acknowledge his…phase as a worm, let alone consider it as a past life), memories from another lifetime would form in his dreams. It wasn't until the System spoke to him that the memories of his passing and his encounter with Aha the Elation finally clicked into place. Afterwards, the System flickered off and never darkened his doorsteps.

It didn't matter if the desire to become a Genius Society member came from Aha or himself, he was determined to disseminate information and cure stupidity. From then on, he never looked back on his new goal, as Nous never set his sights on Veritas Ratio.

[GREETINGS, USER VERITAS. AS YOUR LAST WISHES WERE TO FIX STAR RAIL'S “SHITTY ENDING” AND FOR AVENTURINE TO LIVE AFTER HIS ENCOUNTER WITH IX, HE HAS BEEN DESIGNATED AS THE “PROTAGONIST”, AND IS HENCEFORTH THE POWER SOURCE.]

Although it originated from a lifetime ago, Ratio still believed that Aventurine’s canonical ending was a mistake. The decision to kill him off had shocked the fanbase, alongside Ratio. After making him the secondary protagonist in the Penacony chapter with many, many hours of screen time, his death was deeply tragic and ungratifying.

Despite having the shattered remnants of the Preservation's blessing to protect him, Aventurine was still swallowed up by the Nihility. Of course, the cunning Stoneheart had plans to escape the Nihility and survive, allowing the IPC to take control over Penacony. He still died.

After all, you cannot save someone who did not want to be saved.

[YOU HAVE ACCEPTED THE MAIN MISSION: SUPPORT THE PROTAGONIST'S PLAN IN PENACONY.

FAILURE IN THIS MISSION IS ILL-ADVISED. FAILURE WILL RESULT IN USER BEING SENT TO HIS ORIGINAL BODY.]

Yet again, Ratio planted his face in his palms. Not even the scent of lavender could help him out. He barely had the chance to breathe, as the sound of party poppers and laughter rang through his skull.

[???: OH MY AEONS! IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG SINCE WE LAST TALKED. YOUR FAVOURITE AEON WILL ACT AS A SȆ̦CỌ͠Ņ̚D͙́A̫̍RY S͖̈YSTEM TO HELP GUIDE YOU ON THE PATH OF ELATION <3 TAKE THIS GIFT, LI͈͊TT̥̈L̤̓E ̟̆W͓͊ORM̝̿ <3]

You have gained the item: Fool's Mask.

Aha’s presence receded, leaving the bathroom deafeningly silent. The bright, cold lights bore into his eyes, leaving impressions of collapsing stars when Ratio shut his eyes. The bath was lukewarm, and the rubber duck had capsized, floating belly up.

Ratio hadn't thought of a plan yet, so he allowed himself a minute of rest. His eyes stung hotly behind his eyes until he wiped at them roughly. Then he rose from the water and spitefully continued his nighttime routine.

He would plan the next morning, and not a minute sooner. For now, the goals to keep both him and Aventurine alive settled in his mind.