《Beneath the astral veil》 Projection It¡¯s almost five PM. I finish looking over a spreadsheet and check a few emails¡ªemails I barely remember writing. With a couple of minutes to kill, I slip into one of my more unhealthy hobbies: daydreaming. It¡¯s by far my most enjoyable pastime, though probably not the best for productivity. Given my love for fantasy literature, my daydreaming never runs out of scenarios. My mind is an endless realm of dragons, magic, and impossible quests. A friend suggested I try meditation, something about grounding myself. Grounding? What does that even mean? Focus? I can¡¯t even concentrate on my own breathing for five minutes without my mind wandering. I''d rather fight a dragon, slay it with style, and look cool doing it. But learning about meditation led me down an inevitable rabbit hole: Reddit. It didn¡¯t take long before I was reading about astral projection¡ªthe concept of leaving my body, soaring through the cosmos where anything was possible. Count me in! Of course, there¡¯s just one catch: you need focus to project. That¡¯s the problem. I¡¯ve been trying for months, yet I always end up back where I started: daydreaming. It''s the same cycle. So, after the usual evening routine¡ªgrabbing a frozen meal from the back of my freezer and eating it in a daze¡ªI go to bed. I recite a few affirmations to my "guardian spirit," something I learned online, though it feels silly. Still, my daydreaming persona¡ªthe one in my head¡ªis powerful, charismatic, and way too overpowered to make me feel embarrassed for long. As I drift off to sleep, or maybe I fall asleep, I feel a sensation. It¡¯s like driving a car with busted suspensions over a dirt road, bumpy and strange, but I can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m awake or caught in a hyper-realistic dream. The weirdest part? I can¡¯t move. My body feels heavy, paralyzed. My eyes should be open, but all I see is a blurry, foggy darkness, and two shadows concentrate on my chest. I should be terrified, but instead, I¡¯m more fascinated by how calm I am in the moment. The shadows start to take shape. At first, they¡¯re vague, like images loading in a YouTube video, moving from the lowest quality to 4K clarity. Slowly, I see them more clearly: two humanoid figures, about the size of puppies, draped in shifting black cloaks. The cloaks shimmer, dark and liquid, constantly changing hues. Each of them has a proboscis, a sharp, needle-like mouth, plunged deep into my sternum. I should feel panic, but there¡¯s something strangely compelling about the whole situation. The shadows on my chest¡ªnow more defined¡ªsiphon something from me. It¡¯s not blood or breath, but something deeper, like the very essence of who I am. A cold wave of revulsion rushes through my chest. I¡¯ve never wanted to annihilate something so badly¡ªnot even my neighbor, who drones on about the weather every morning in the elevator. The anger surges through me. It¡¯s hot, raw, visceral. My arms¡ªthough they should be immovable¡ªfeel like they¡¯re trying to swim against honey. The sensation is sluggish, thick, but I try anyway. It¡¯s like my limbs are trapped in a dense, viscous substance, but I can still force my will against it. I focus on my arms. I try to move them, to push the creatures away, but my hands¡ªglowing with a faint, golden aura¡ªpass straight through the mosquito men. A sense of defeat washes over me, but I dig deeper. I concentrate harder. My aura, now swirling around me, darkens with my intent. I focus my energy into my hands. They solidify, the golden glow becoming more defined, more tangible. The shadows recoil slightly as I attempt to shove them away again. This time, they don¡¯t pass through me. It feels like pushing against something solid, like I¡¯ve breached some invisible barrier. Suddenly, the image of a weapon forms in my mind. I concentrate¡ªtry to shape my energy into a blade, a dagger. But the result isn¡¯t a dagger. No, it¡¯s a jagged shard of glass, sharp and brittle. Not exactly what I envisioned, but it¡¯ll do. I push it forward with all my might, aiming for the two shadow figures'' eyes. The resistance is faint, but it¡¯s there, real, as if I¡¯m carving through the air itself. I press harder. And then it happens. My hand¡ªmy golden, Krueger-like hand¡ªslips through the shadowy forms, as though they¡¯re not even real. The two figures recoil, their black cloaks starting to shimmer with an unnatural golden hue, like the fabric itself is cracking, fissuring into golden veins. The sharp, unholy screech of tearing fills the air, echoing from every direction. I don¡¯t panic. I should. I feel my aura fluctuate, like it''s being drained, like my very soul is being pulled out through the cracks in my body. I can feel myself growing less...real. Less solid. The sense of being drained is overwhelming, yet somehow, I stay calm. My vitality is slipping away, or at least that¡¯s what my mind tells me. But in the strange, detached space I occupy, I can''t quite bring myself to care. My vision blurs again, and the golden cracks in the creatures'' cloaks widen as they hiss, retreating. But the calm remains. Despite everything, despite the strange draining sensation, I remain unafraid. It¡¯s as if the line between reality and dream has blurred completely, and I¡¯ve slipped into a space where fear holds no power. What were once black, shadowy creatures now became swirling blobs of golden light. Their forms shuddered and began to implode, collapsing inward toward the spots where they¡¯d been stabbed. The golden light shrank, and with it, the suffocating pressure that had been clinging to my very being. And just like that, they were gone. It felt like invisible shackles around me had shattered, setting me free. For the first time, I was able to manipulate the aura surrounding me with ease. I tried to stand, but it was as though my consciousness had been transferred into the golden, ethereal form I now occupied. I was weightless, fluid, like I existed outside of my physical body. I took a few hesitant steps away from it and noticed a golden rope tethering me to my still, lifeless body. It was a surreal sight¡ªa strange, glowing umbilical cord connecting my consciousness to the physical world. The reality of it hit me like a cold gust of wind, and with it, an unfamiliar wave of fear began to settle deep within me. I started to hyperventilate, gasping for air. I hadn¡¯t even realized I needed to breathe until now. My golden form trembled slightly as I bent forward, hands pressed to my knees. A wave of nausea overtook me, but it wasn¡¯t coming from my golden body; no, it felt as though it were originating from the golden rope itself, as if whatever was connecting me to my physical form was somehow causing this discomfort. I struggled to steady myself, to regain some semblance of control over my scattered thoughts, when something flickered at the very edge of my vision. A faint, unnatural glimmer¡ªso out of place, so foreign. My instincts pulled me toward it. I focused, narrowing my attention to the blinking light. As I did, something strange happened. The light came into sharper focus, and then, a text materialized before me. It wasn''t any language I recognized. The symbols shifted and fluctuated like living things, twisting and reshaping with an otherworldly rhythm. But strangely, I could understand it. Juvenile Leech Killed (Level 3)!?+3 EXP (Additional +3 due to level difference) Juvenile Leech Killed (Level 2)!?+2 EXP (Additional +2 due to level difference) Skill Learned: Manifestation (Common)!?Your imagination is your limit. Shape your aura into whatever you desire. Anything manifested is limited by your aura and mass. Skill levels primarily with your Astral Mind, secondarily with your Astral Body. The message felt like a whisper in the back of my mind, something that wasn¡¯t quite spoken but known, an innate understanding as if my consciousness had absorbed it by sheer proximity. It didn¡¯t take long for the words to make sense¡ªeverything was tied to the Astral Realm, to this plane of existence I found myself in. I had just gained a new skill, an ability to manifest my aura into tangible shapes, as though my imagination was the only boundary left. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.And then came the final line, one that sent a shiver down the length of my spine. Welcome to the Astral Realm, Fourth Level. Please choose your name. The weight of the message hit me like a bolt of lightning. This was more than just some vivid dream, more than astral projection or a mere out-of-body experience. I was here¡ªreally here¡ªin the Astral Realm. It was real, and the implications were staggering. What did it mean to be in the Fourth Level? What was this realm? And why did I need to choose a name? Given my vivid imagination, one could fairly assume that I¡¯m an aficionado of internal monologues. After all, a mind that constantly wanders through fantastical realms should have a penchant for self-dialogue, right? But truth be told, I rarely indulge in it. There¡¯s something about it that feels too¡­ inward, too constrained by the boundaries of my own thoughts. But this? This situation? It definitely warranted some internal commentary. So, with all the eloquence I could muster, I thought to myself, ¡°What the fuck?¡± It was the only phrase that could capture the disorienting surrealism of the moment. Here I was, standing¡ªor rather, floating¡ªin an entirely new realm, tethered to my physical body by a glowing golden rope, experiencing something that was far beyond anything I¡¯d ever imagined. I was surrounded by unfamiliar laws, rules, and experiences, yet there I was, trying to make sense of it all. It was a mix of awe, confusion, and a growing sense of panic that I couldn''t quite suppress. Still, despite the sheer absurdity of the situation, my mind settled into that familiar, strange calm, as if everything happening was part of some grand puzzle I was just beginning to understand. The more I thought about it, the more a strange excitement bubbled within me. Either this was a hyper-realistic dream, or perhaps I had suffered a stroke¡ªor a ruptured aneurysm. Or maybe, just maybe, this was real. After all, three hundred thousand people on r/astralprojection couldn¡¯t all be full of it, right? As my thoughts churned, the oppressive darkness around me began to shift. It wasn¡¯t immediate, but gradual, like the slow lifting of a fog. The hazy void reshaped itself into something startlingly familiar: my bedroom. My physical body lay sprawled on the bed, motionless yet peaceful, as though trapped in deep sleep. Everything looked distorted, though¡ªblurry, as if I were peering through warped glass. The world shimmered, fragile and tenuous. I turned my attention to the blinking screen that still hovered in my peripheral vision, but before I could focus, the very fabric of the space around me seemed to tear. A jagged rent in the air opened, growing steadily wider until it stabilized into an oval portal. From its depths emanated a kaleidoscope of impossible colors, hues that shimmered and shifted beyond human comprehension. A calming warmth washed over me, spreading through my golden, ethereal form. It was intoxicating and overwhelming all at once. And then, from the portal, it emerged. A magnificent stag stepped forward with measured grace. Its body shimmered like liquid gold, each movement fluid and deliberate. Its mane, impossibly radiant, seemed to catch and refract every fragment of light. A regal crown of antlers adorned its head, studded with iridescent, multicolored gems that pulsed faintly, as though alive. Its hooves, so solid and powerful they looked capable of shattering stone, barely disturbed the air as they touched the ground. The creature radiated a quiet majesty, a presence that was both commanding and soothing. A wave of conflicting emotions surged through me. On one hand, I felt an irresistible urge to approach it, to bury my hands in its impossibly soft fur, like greeting a long-lost companion. Yet on the other, I wanted to kneel before it, to pledge my undying loyalty to such a divine being. So naturally, I froze. I was never good around people, let alone something that looked like it had just stepped out of a myth. The stag¡¯s piercing gaze met mine, its eyes gleaming with ancient intelligence. When it spoke, I didn¡¯t hear a sound in the usual sense. Instead, its voice resonated directly in my mind, echoing with an odd mix of power and exasperation. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± I blinked, stunned. That...wasn¡¯t what I expected. Its tone, far from the deep, commanding bellow I had imagined, was closer to a goat¡¯s braying, sharp and indignant. The stag¡¯s luminous eyes narrowed. ¡°What have you done? Why are you in the system? No, no, NO! This can¡¯t be happening. I¡¯m so screwed!¡± The rapid shift from divine majesty to outright panic was so jarring, I forgot to respond. My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, uselessly attempting to form words. I had spent countless hours daydreaming about what it would be like to meet an astral being. None of those fantasies involved being cussed out by a celestial deer. ¡°I-I was just trying to¡ª¡± I stammered, but the stag cut me off with a frustrated snort. ¡°Shut up! I need to think.¡± Its antlers pulsed faintly as its eyes shimmered with a faint inner light, clearly lost in thought. I decided the smart thing to do was let it sort through its crisis. After all, I wasn¡¯t about to argue with a creature that looked like a divine arbiter of realms, even if it seemed just as confused as I was. Turning away from the flustered stag, I finally addressed the blinking text that still floated persistently in my vision: Welcome to the Astral Realm, Fourth Level. Please choose your name. The weight of the question¡ªChoose your name¡ªhung heavy in the air. The implications of the message were profound. I wasn¡¯t just a visitor here. This wasn¡¯t a fleeting moment of lucidity in a dreamscape. This was something bigger. The Astral Realm wasn¡¯t just a backdrop for my imagination; it was a place with rules, inhabitants, and, apparently, a system. But a name? Why did I need one? Was it some kind of rite of passage? A way to cement my existence here? Or was it more practical, like a username for an online RPG? My golden form flickered as my thoughts churned. I had always imagined myself in my daydreams as a hero with a commanding name, something with power and gravitas, but now, standing on the precipice of an unknown reality, those fictional names felt hollow. A part of me wanted to be childish and choose my gamer tag, I.slay.dragons. It was tempting¡ªa bold proclamation, dripping with the kind of bravado my daydreaming self would fully embrace. But as the thought lingered, unease crept in. What if that choice came back to bite me? This wasn¡¯t some online game where I could shrug off a bad username. This felt deeper, more permanent. Besides, I¡¯d read somewhere that names carried power. Was that true? I had no idea, but something about the thought resonated. If there was even a sliver of truth to it, choosing the wrong name could have consequences I wasn¡¯t prepared for. Better to pick something grounded, something that wouldn¡¯t make me cringe every time an astral being said it aloud. The system seemed to sense my hesitation. A subtle pulse rippled through the golden tether connecting me to my physical body, and the blinking text reappeared, sharper now, more insistent. Would you like to choose ¡°Alex¡± as your name? Y/N The simplicity of it caught me off guard. Alex. It wasn¡¯t grand or ostentatious, but it was solid. Familiar. A name I¡¯d always identified with in a quiet, unspoken way. For all the strangeness of this moment¡ªfor all the impossible realms and golden forms¡ªchoosing ¡°Alex¡± felt like clinging to a piece of myself, a thread of normalcy in an ocean of the surreal. It was steady, unassuming, but mine. I took what felt like a deep breath¡ªthough I wasn¡¯t even sure if my ethereal form required air. My golden fingers hovered for a moment, and then I confirmed my choice. Yes. The instant I did, the text vanished, replaced by a gentle chiming sound that resonated in my very being. For a fleeting moment, I felt an odd sense of completeness, as if choosing the name had somehow cemented my place here. Alex. My name, my anchor, my identity. Whatever came next, I wasn¡¯t just an observer anymore. I was Alex¡ªand I was here to stay. The system Welcome, Alex. Would you like to view your character sheet? I quickly accepted, curious to see what it would say. Name: Alex Level: Lev 0 (10/10 exp) Attributes: Error¡­ leveling up halted due to realm of origin "Earth" anchored to the third level. Spirit guardian contacted. Please hold. The stag, as if jolted from a trance, snapped its head up and glared at me, its voice dangerously low. It would have been far more intimidating if not for the absurdity of the situation. "Stop doing whatever you¡¯re doing! I¡¯m trying to untangle this clusterfuck!" In an uncharacteristic display, the stag stomped nervously with its front hooves. The gesture was so oddly human that I froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. After a beat, I cautiously took a step back and, with a nervous swallow, said, "Look, I can tell you''re going through something, and somehow, I''m caught up in it¡­" The stag took a menacing step forward, lowering its sharp hooves toward my chest with unsettling precision. It bellowed in a voice that pierced through the heavy air. "Going through something?! Do you have any idea how royally fucked I am right now?" I quickly took a few steps back, my heart pounding. I reached for the golden tether, but it seemed to evade me, impossibly slipping out of reach. The stag''s hostility was palpable, but somehow, I found the courage to raise my hands, palms out, and speak gently, "But, BUT! I honestly don¡¯t have a clue what¡¯s going on! Maybe if I explain, it¡¯ll help us both." The stag paused, its eyes narrowing, and then, in an unexpected shift, it bent its neck at an impossible angle. The movement, meant to scratch its flank with its sharp horns, should have looked grotesque, yet it was oddly graceful. The tension in the air seemed to ease. After a moment, it straightened and turned back to me, its gaze softened slightly. "Go ahead." I seized the opening, relieved that the creature had calmed a little. "I¡¯m Alex." The stag snorted derisively, clearly uninterested in my name, but I pressed on. What followed was a flood of words. I couldn¡¯t stop myself. The words spilled out in an almost cathartic rush, as though I had finally found someone to share my confusion with. The stag listened, though its disinterest was palpable at times, but I couldn¡¯t help it¡ªI had to explain. It felt, in a strange way, like I was talking to an old friend, someone who might understand, even if that someone was a divine, slightly panicked stag. After a pregnant pause, I ventured cautiously, "Euh¡­ I keep referring to you as a stag in my mind. Do you have a name?" Its glowing eyes widened slightly, as though taken aback by the question. For a moment, I feared I had somehow offended it. "My name," it began, a touch of grandeur lacing its voice, "would shatter your mind if you heard it. It crosses into the Fifth Realm." There was an unmistakable air of pride in the statement, as though it relished my inability to comprehend its full majesty. "You may refer to me as Velarion," it said at last, inclining its head slightly as if bestowing a gift. "Well met, Velarion," I replied, trying to sound dignified but cringing inwardly at my awkwardness. To my surprise, the stag seemed to appreciate the formality, its massive antlers glinting faintly in approval. It stomped its hooves¡ªa deep, resonant sound like distant thunder¡ªbefore continuing, its tone now deliberate, almost wary. "What happened here should be impossible. Your world is anchored to the Third Level. To pierce the veil, to see into the Astral Realm, is a feat reserved for those on the brink of ascension¡ªsouls who have lived through countless cycles of reincarnation." The weight of its words was staggering, but my mind instinctively shoved the implications into a corner, filing them away for later examination¡ªor avoidance. Velarion took my silence as acceptance and carried on, his voice growing steadier, as if lecturing a particularly dense pupil.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Your soul is young, yet¡­ surprisingly adept at visualizing your thoughts. That, I suspect, is the only explanation for your ability to harm the shadow creatures." I opened my mouth to ask, but he anticipated the question, snorting in faint irritation. "The leeches, as you call them, were siphoning your energy. It¡¯s¡­ elementary." I blinked, dumbfounded, and he shook his massive head as if pitying my ignorance. "A quick lesson may be in order," he said, lowering his voice as though explaining a concept so vast, it needed to be simplified for my mortal comprehension. "There are seven realms of existence. Imagine them as bubbles adrift in the Astral. Beings born in the first three realms¡ªlike yourself¡ªexist in the lower tiers. Ascension is possible for them, but the process is¡­ arduous." He paused, letting the word hang like a warning. "For such beings, ascension comes through the accumulation of energy¡ªgathered through life experiences and reincarnations. A soul must endure countless cycles to gather enough energy to even glimpse the higher realms. The odds of success are exceedingly slim." The stag¡¯s words were dizzying, but I bit back my confusion, unwilling to interrupt. It seemed satisfied by my silence and continued. "Shadow creatures," he said, his voice darkening, "are beings who failed to ascend. They are remnants, stranded between realms. Most are harmless scavengers. But in their desperation, they wander the Astral, seeking energy to consume." He paused, a glimmer of disdain crossing his radiant form. "But traveling the Astral without proper shielding against entropy comes at a cost. These beings degrade, losing their minds, their essence, until all that remains are hollow, insatiable predators." I shivered despite myself, the weight of his explanation sinking in. Velarion¡¯s gaze fixed on me, his tone softening slightly. "Your encounter with them was not mere chance. They were drawn to you, to the flicker of energy your soul gave off when you¡­ connected to the Astral. A feat you accomplished without meaning to, I suspect." He sighed heavily, his breath shimmering in the air. "You are an anomaly, human. And the Astral does not take kindly to anomalies." I pushed the ominous declaration to the back of my mind. It had seemed to work so far, so I decided to keep it there for now. Instead, I asked, ¡°Are you telling me that the majority of people¡­ or beings¡­ are destined to become hungry beasts? What¡¯s the point in all of this?¡± My anger at the unfairness of it all gave me the courage to press on. ¡°You said that only the first three realms have to go through this method. What about the others? Can¡¯t you share your methods to help more people ascend?¡± Velarion¡¯s expression softened, and for the first time, I saw something like sorrow in his ancient eyes. ¡°The truth is, as vast as the seven realms may seem, energy is a finite resource. The shadow creatures you encountered are likely from the first or second realm. Now imagine shadow creatures from higher realms... believe me, they can be far more vicious than you can imagine.¡± The stag¡¯s words lingered in the air, heavy with a truth I wasn¡¯t ready to fully comprehend. Then, to my surprise, Velarion stopped and looked startled, as if something had just occurred to him. ¡°I totally forgot about you!¡± he exclaimed, his voice taking on an edge of urgency. ¡°I have to address this issue we have.¡± A creeping sense of panic began to coil in my chest. My voice barely rose above a whisper as I asked, ¡°The system said it¡¯s contacting a spirit guardian... when would they arrive? And who are they?¡± The derision returned to Velarion¡¯s gaze, making me flinch. ¡°I am a spirit guardian. You should have felt the familiarity by now. I¡¯m the shepherd of ascendants on the planet you call Earth, and I serve as its guardian against the shadow creatures.¡± My mind reeled at the revelation, but I couldn¡¯t keep the question from slipping out. ¡°So why did those leeches attack me, then? If you¡¯re supposed to guard us against them?¡± The anger that flickered in his eyes was like a storm building, and I immediately regretted my words. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to question you. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re working hard.¡± Velarion took a deep breath, his expression softening, though his voice remained firm. ¡°Do you think I chase down every rodent?¡± he asked, the sarcasm cutting through. ¡°They weren¡¯t even level 10. They couldn¡¯t have caused any permanent damage.¡± Despite the annoyance in his tone, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It was clear that he was not a being to be trifled with, but also one with limits to what he could protect from. I hadn¡¯t expected the reality of these higher realms to be so... complicated. "You''re lucky they were just minor pests," he muttered more to himself than to me, his eyes scanning the horizon as if contemplating something much larger than our immediate conversation. I fell silent, suddenly aware of just how little I understood about the larger workings of the realms¡ªand about Velarion¡¯s role in all of it. He looked exasperated. It was better than angry, so I supposed that was progress. ¡°We should address the issue at hand,¡± he said, his tone firm but not as harsh as before. ¡°The good news is that the system seems to accept your existence. Believe me, there¡¯s no sin worse than taking shortcuts to gain energy. If that had happened, you would have been obliterated, and I would have been obliterated with you for letting it happen.¡± He started tapping his hooves in rhythm, the sound like chimes echoing through the air. ¡°So, I¡¯ll accept your integration into the system. But remember, the system rewards the ambitious. Don¡¯t waste this honor.¡± His eyes shimmered once more, and just as the light flickered in his gaze, a notification appeared at the edge of my vision. Your integration to the system has been approved! Welcome, Alex! Level up! Level 1 reached +1 Attribute Point +1 Skill Point Title achieved: Ascendant (???) +1 Attribute Point per level +1 Skill Point per level 100% Skill Level Speed Increase I blinked in surprise, the sudden flood of information rushing in faster than I could process. The words "Ascendant" echoed in my mind. So, this was real.