Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

The moment my feet touched the deck of my Landship, I exhaled in quiet relief.

The familiar hum of the engines thrummed beneath me, a rhythmic pulse that resonated through the veins of this mobile fortress. The air was thick with the scent of Neuro alloy and ozone, interwoven with faint traces of mechanical oil and the ever-present undertones of something faintly floral—likely the result of Charis' relentless enthusiasm for scented air filtration that appeared out of nowhere after the arrival of Carlotta.

I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile.

Home.

For all the absurdity of Carcosa, for all the unstable landscapes and existential nightmares I had been subjected to, this was the one place I could truly call my own.

I made my way inward, passing through the reinforced corridors of the vessel, the walls alive with faintly glowing veins of neuromorphic circuitry.

I walked past hurried bastioneers and Duolos tending to their given order and usual duties.

It was efficient. Organized. Stable.

And looked like I found someone that I wanted to meet posthaste.

The silver-haired bastioneer spotted me as I turned a corner, perking up immediately. She adjusted her MSU pack as she approached, her usual energetic grin spreading across her face.

"Lady Narcissus!"

"Naosi." I chuckled, shaking my head. "I assume you've already been briefed on why I'm here?"

Naosi straightened slightly, slipping into a more professional stance. "Yes, ma'am. You're here about the wanderer."

"Correct. Where is she?"

"Guest Room 12. She hasn't left since she was escorted there."

I hummed, nodding as I processed the information. "Give me the information."

Naosi crossed her arms, tilting her head as she recalled the details. "Her name is Ishmael. Came stumbling onto the deck through some kind of dimensional distortion. She's… uh, how do I put this—a mess. Socially anxious, unstable confidence, but she's not violent or hostile. Just kind of… overwhelmingly self-deprecating?"

I gave her an amused glance. "Overwhelmingly?"

"You should've seen her groveling on the deck," Naosi deadpanned. "She started calling herself 'a lesser being unworthy of existence' before I could even say hello. I thought she was about to have a full breakdown just from talking to us."

I sighed with an equal deadpan. "Wonderful, another weirdo attracted to our bastion."

"She also seems to possess some sort of power to just outright nullify the defensive system of the deck, but I couldn't really appraise the essence of the nature of the ability." She shrugged "Even the neuromorphic network doesn't know anything yet."

"Interesting."

Naosi continued, shifting her weight to one side. "She also seemed to recognize the entity that showed up—called it a Pallid Mermaid. That was before she and Yora helped take it down."

That made me pause.

"So she has prior knowledge of them."

"Seems like it," Naosi confirmed. "And if you're wondering—yes, I got a good look at the thing before it died. Tall, grotesque, pale, veined all over, human-like face but completely frozen in an unnatural way."

That confirmed it.@@novelbin@@

I nodded. "It's the same Pallid Mermaid I encountered before. Or at least a weaker fragment of one."

Naosi let out a low whistle. "Weaker? That thing was hard to kill, and you're saying the ones you fought were worse?"

"You don't want to know."

She grimaced. "Noted."

I exhaled through my nose before offering her a small nod. "Good work. Your attentiveness is appreciated."

Naosi grinned with unmistakable pride. "Well, someone's gotta keep track of all the madness in this place."

"Keep it up," I mused. "Now, if you have somewhere to be, don't let me keep you."

"Will do!" She gave a lazy salute before striding off, no doubt in pursuit of whatever personal errand she had originally been on.

Now, all that was left was to meet the guest herself.

As always, navigating through the corridors of my Landship had always been a familiar experience, a process as natural as breathing.

But today, something felt… different.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that an unknown wanderer had entered my bastion, a woman who had stumbled through dimensional fractures and spoken of Pallid Mermaids like they were familiar nightmares.

Or maybe it was the lingering memory of the Maddening Fold, of Kuzunoha's words echoing in my mind, describing a world that had once teetered on the edge of existence.

Regardless, I pushed those thoughts aside as I approached Guest section of the landship.

A section reserved for outsiders. For wanderers.

For people who did not yet belong.

The doors to the guest quarters were designed with absolute privacy in mind, reinforced with layers of soundproofing mechanisms and psychic disruption fields to ensure that no unauthorized entity—physical or otherwise—could intrude on whoever resided within. Even those with high cognitive sensitivity would find their telepathic reach stifled within these rooms.

Not even I could peek inside without direct access.

Though of course, I had always been given the access since I was the proper owner of this entire ship.

I pressed the button beside the entrance, activating the comm relay. A direct transmission of my voice would be sent into the room, bypassing the barriers meant to block out unwanted noise.

"I trust the hospitality is to your liking?"

Silence.

I frowned, waiting for even the faintest noise from within. The shuffling of movement, a breath, anything.

Nothing.

My fingers brushed against my Mini-MSU, instantly linking to the room's observation Cognitive Engine.

The scan processed within milliseconds, relaying an immediate report to a holographic screen conjured by the device.

No one inside.

I stared at the results. Odd.

Had she left? Unlikely. The corridors had security, and there had been no reports of her wandering outside.

Which left only one other option.

She was somewhere in that room. Unregistered. Unaccounted for.

A distortion? A concealment mechanism? Or something worse?

I overrode the lock. The door slid open with a soft hiss—

And I immediately halted in my tracks.

A monstrosity loomed before me.

Towering. Twisted. Unstable.

A grotesque entity with a mangled, veined fish-like body, its pale, membranous flesh glistening under the dim lighting. Its form was uneven, caught between mutating states, writhing as if unsure whether to exist as it was or collapse into something else.

But its head—

Its head was human.

No. More than that.

Eerily humane.

Wild, jaded blonde hair, tangled and disheveled. Pale skin stretched taut over its frame, sweat forming at the temples. Black sclera, pupils glowing like stark white rings.

Eyes that flickered between anguish and exhaustion.

Ishmael, that was the part that fits the appearance of the guest that was reported to me.

Something inside me recognized something far more primal upon her form, a deep-rooted understanding that this grotesque, fractured thing standing before me was her.

Not to mention, the fact that the Cognitive Engine within the room couldn't get a single recording of her in this state, makes things a little bit creepy.

Before I knew it, she wept.

Her entire malformed body trembled, convulsing with something beyond mere exhaustion.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, her expression crumpling with raw, unfiltered emotion.

And then—she spoke.

"T-thank you…"

Her voice was fragile, shaking, like it barely held itself together.

Then—her form collapsed.

Not in the way a body crumples, but in the way a fractured reality folds in on itself.

Shrinking. Dissolving. Reforming.

Her monstrous limbs retracted, her veined red flesh warped, the grotesque mass of her inhuman form distorted—

Until she was human again.

Painfully human.

The woman that was aforementioned to be Ishmael collapsed onto her knees, her breath shuddering as the last remnants of her transformation faded.

She hunched forward, arms wrapping around herself, as if trying to hold her body together—as if she feared it would break apart again at any moment.

A residual effect? An unstable existence?

I took a cautious step forward.

She flinched.

My movements slowed. "You're alright. Just breathe."

Her breaths came out in sharp, uneven bursts.

I crouched slightly, lowering myself to her level. Not demanding. Not pressuring. Just offering.

I extended a hand.

She hesitated, her fingers twitching.

Then—slowly, weakly—she grasped mine.

"Come on," I said gently, helping her up. "Slow breaths. In. Out."

She obeyed, though her body still trembled.

Reaching into my Mini-MSU, I retrieved an extra garment—a simple, comfortable piece meant for guests.

"Here." I offered it to her. "You'll feel more stable once you're dressed properly."

Her hands were shaking as she took it, clutching the fabric like an anchor—like something real, something tangible she could hold onto.

Silence stretched between us.

Her breathing slowed.

Her body steadied.

Then, slowly—she looked up at me.

And froze.

I felt her gaze lock onto my face.

Her expression shifted.

She stared.

Not in confusion. Not in lingering fear.

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But in sheer, absolute awe.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as if words failed her.

Then, she whispered—

"Y-you… you're…"

She swallowed, face flushing, her entire posture stiffening as she stammered over her own words.

"You're too beautiful…"

I blinked.

Then, I laughed.