North Drake
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Book 1: Chapter 1: Old And New World
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 14:01:25 +0000 UTCChapter 1:
Old And New World
Lennard awoke early in the morning in his apartment; he hadn’t slept well over the past few days, managing only a few hours of sleep each night. It all felt like a blur to him. A bad dream. Really... if he had known she would leave this world with a bang, he wouldn’t have supported her after all.
He opened his PC, powered it on, and while it was booting up, he grabbed a coffee and something to eat. The last few days had all followed the same routine. Lennard would wake up, sit in front of his PC until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, then again lie down for a few hours and repeat.
As soon as he was back at his desk, he logged into his social media accounts and slipped into his alter ego, MarleX. At that moment, Lennard from the real world ceased to exist. MarleX was a somewhat well-known figure in the hacking scene, particularly on certain darknet forums—after all, hacking was his profession. But MarleX was more than just a hacker. He was also the leading member of the only fan club of a female streamer named DarkGirl112, a controversial figure who had gathered some odd minds and formed them into a somewhat conspiracy-like community. DarkGirl112 was more than just a streamer to him. She was like a goddess for him, and now the goddess was gone. As her self-proclaimed biggest supporter, he was both in ecstasy and in utter disbelief when he saw her ‘final stream’. His goddess did all the things she had taught in her community. She showed her superiority with Eruditas, everyone could see how she embodied Vitalis, and she manipulated the system with Dominatus. Truly, no one could do the same. But now… she was gone… and everyone in the country knew her name. They also dared to talk all sorts of shit about her. He hated how she was treated in the media like a psychopathic animal. They didn’t know her. And her ‘friends’ only wanted fame, so they decided to talk to the media and spill more shit about her. He hated them all.
For the hundredth time, he was reading an article in the community forum from DarkGirl112 about the events. Her followers gathered all the facts about her they could find and shared them among themselves.
“Grace…” he mumbled, “what a beautiful name… and it all makes sense now…”
He took a sip of his coffee and stuffed some protein bars into his mouth as he read. Nothing really new for him, but since the incident, everyone knew her real name—Grace Blair—and some other details about her that no one had known before. Grace was a sixteen-year-old high school girl.
For Lennard, it was a bit of a shock to learn about her real age. After all, he had admired her as a goddess and had never imagined someone like her could be only sixteen. He was already over thirty. Still, he saw no problem in following her and admiring her. He even went so far as to seek out contact with her and chat with her for several nights. After that, he started financially supporting her whenever she wished for or needed something for her stream. He was obsessed with her. And now... she was gone. And it was partly his fault, he let her go to early.
Grace's parents were noticeably absent from the media. Her father, some kind of diplomat, refused to speak with the press, unlike the other low-lives. Her mother was a secretary, probably for her father. That wouldn't surprise Lennard at all. He despised her parents; they failed to recognize Grace's greatness and saw her as just a normal girl. How pathetic.
Lennard took another sip of his coffee and sighed as he closed the window with the article about Grace. He then looked at old chat messages from her while opening a few pictures: screenshots from her streams, selfies, and some she had sent only to him. She was always so stunning… Then, his focus shifted to her chat messages.
“Hey MarleX, I’m soooo thankful you took care of my problem! ♥”
His stomach began to ache; it was all like a dream. So surreal. The past two years had been so intense… and now it was over.
“MarleX thank you, you gave me the strength I needed…”
“Wow a fan club? Am I famous now or what? Haha”
“Yes... you understand me the most… Don’t worry, I have a plan. A plan for the perfect transition. I’m so fucking bored here…”
He looked at Grace’s online status; last seen 4 days ago. It was a joke. A damn joke. Suddenly, he felt so lonely. But he didn’t stop reading the messages.
“I will tell you a secret, MarleX… I found out how to break the boundaries of our reality. I’m telling you because I know you won’t think I’m nuts, haha”
“MarleX!!! Just order me the damn gun, pleaaaasseeee, you’re the only one I can trust with this…!”
“Thank you for everything, MarleX!!! I will not forget you… tomorrow is the first day in my life that isn’t boring! Make sure to watch my stream x3 YOU WILL BE FOREVER MY KNIGHT (:”
He never told Grace his real name, and she didn’t tell him hers either. But the last message from her... it was as if she knew his full name was Lennard Knight... and then she called him her knight. It was the last proof for him. She was a goddess, and she wasn’t dead. But his stomach didn’t stopped aching. “4 days…”
He ordered the gun from a black market on the darknet. As an IT specialist, it was no problem for him to arrange this for Grace. But he didn’t know how she had obtained the ingredients for her bomb. Still, it didn’t matter to him. It couldn’t be changed anymore, anyway. Now, he had a new mission: to honor her legacy and share it with the right people. He would push forward her great dream in this world so that when she returned, she would see that her knight had paved the way for her. Yes, he was her knight by her grace. She had made him hers, and he would follow her to hell.
“Ah, damn chat…” he mumbled as he closed the chat. He needed a plan for today; the last few days, he had been too stunned to be productive.
First, he should moderate the damn forum; it was getting out of hand. Then, he would hack some accounts of the bastards who badmouthed Grace… After that, he could…
His thoughts were interrupted by a little Bing notification on his PC. His heart stopped, and a cold shiver ran down his spine as he saw it—Grace's online status: online.
-::-
Darkness. Everywhere. It stretched out infinitely, like the empty void of space itself, where time had no meaning and nothing existed but the silence. Only a little nagging feeling, something was wrong. An explosion. Fire. Pain. Darkness. No coherent thoughts. No future. Only darkness. Then a ripple in reality. Someone was watching. Something. Fear. Pain. Darkness. A Crunch. A break in the endless void. The darkness shuddered, recoiling, but it was too late. Light.
…
…
Grace opened her eyes. She saw only blinding light, the kind that overwhelmed her senses, making her feel small and vulnerable. A sudden sensation, sharp and unexpected, hit her on her butt, and in response, tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t control it. She wanted to scream, to fight against whatever had just happened to her—but all that escaped her was a small, feeble cry.
“Bbbwwaaahhh…!”
The sound felt alien, yet it came from her. Confusion clouded her thoughts. As she cried out, distant voices murmured around her, their words muffled but somehow familiar. Slowly, her eyes began to focus, adjusting to the light. She could make out blurry shapes, faces hovering above her, but they were distant, out of reach. Suddenly, she heard her name. A beautiful female voice spoke—soft, melodic, and clearly exhausted.
"----????------!?!? Grace!! -----"
Grace formed a coherent thought: “I… I… knew… it…”
Suddenly, something squeezed her mind again. It was wrong. She was not allowed to think coherent thoughts. Her mind twisted, and it felt like an ice-cold hand had invaded her brain, trying to pull Grace away, deep into the darkness once more. She struggled against it, but the pressure intensified, pressing down on her thoughts, drowning them. She fought to hold on, to keep her sense of self. But she tried. She didn’t accept losing this. Then the voices in the background intensified. And she could understand some words.
“…She is dying…”
“… Iras will… do…”
“… My baby… Grace! … Hear my voice!”
The words came in broken fragments, like shards of a fractured reality, but something about them broke through the haze, clinging to Grace’s consciousness. She fought to focus on the voice, desperate to grasp something familiar, something that might help her understand what was happening. The darkness tugged at her mind again, relentless, pulling at the edges of her identity, but she resisted, unwilling to be swallowed by it.
Then, something snapped in her mind.
The pain was instant and excruciating, like her brain was being torn apart from the inside. A searing, white-hot agony radiated through her skull, stealing her breath, silencing her thoughts, and replacing them with pure torment.
She screamed again—an instinctive, guttural cry that filled the air around her. The voices in the background rose in panic, but their words became lost in the cacophony of pain and chaos inside her. Her tiny body writhed as the overwhelming sensation consumed her entirely.
Again, darkness. Grace was lost once more in a space without time, without form, a vast emptiness that consumed everything.
But then, piercing the void, came a voice.
"Ỵ͎o̺̖͝ủ̮'̵̥r͌͜e̴ ň̤̮o͋t ä̺́lͨl̩o͌͜we̥d ț̌o͔͠…̵̗̍"
The words were distorted, fragmented, like a broken signal trying to transmit through the oppressive darkness. They reverberated unnaturally, twisting and curling in the void as if alive.
Then, light.
It pierced the darkness suddenly, harsh and blinding, forcing Grace’s fragile awareness to focus. She blinked—or at least, she thought she did. When the overwhelming brightness subsided, she realized she was back in the room with the people.
Their faces were clearer now, though still unfamiliar. They were speaking urgently, voices frantic and filled with tension, but she couldn’t make sense of their words.
A strange, pulsating green energy was swirling around her tiny body. It glowed faintly, like a living mist, seeping into her skin. It felt warm, soothing, and yet… unnatural.
One of the figures, the woman with the beautiful, melodic voice, leaned closer, tears streaming down her exhausted face. Her hands were outstretched, trembling, as if willing the energy to work.
The man next to her, taller and dressed in what seemed like ceremonial robes, placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder, his expression firm but worried.
The green energy intensified, and Grace felt something shift inside her, like her entire being was being rewired. A flicker of clarity sparked in her mind.
“What… is this?” she thought, the question breaking through the haze of confusion.
The void was gone. The fabric of reality felt solid again, stable and unyielding. She was here. Wherever here was.
Then it hit her, like a tidal wave crashing into her fragile consciousness. The memories surged forward, unrelenting and vivid. Her past life. Yes, everything.
She died.
The explosion. The fire. The chaos. The silence that followed. There was no mistaking it—she had died. No one could have survived what happened to her. What she did by herself.
Her tiny body trembled, a wave of disbelief coursing through her as the realization took root. “But I’m here now.”
The green energy coursing through her began to subside, and the voices around her grew clearer. They weren’t just noise anymore; they were speaking in fragmented phrases she could almost piece together.
“…the healing magic worked… barely…”
“…she’ll survive… by the gods…”
“…thank Iras…”
Her gaze shifted, her small, weak eyes locking onto the woman’s tearful face again. “Mother?” Grace thought, but she couldn’t form the words. All she could do was exist in this strange, impossible reality, while her mind reeled from the truth: she had defied death itself.
