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MidReal Story
The Unwanted Twin Brother
Scenario:Dans un jeu vidéo on peut créer des personnages (dans le sens de pnj pas de joueur) un type pour rigoler à créer deux pnj une fille humaine de 18 ans et un garçon humain qui est le petit frère de la première de 12 ans et quand il a créé leur personnalité il a écrit pour la fille « très autoritaire, ne connaît pas la compassion c’est une guerrière et elle est très féminine et d’une grande puissance » et pour le garçon il a écrit « jeune garçon se laisse facilement marcher sur les pieds et n’oserais jamais contredire sa sœur qui l’oblige à porter des vêtements féminins à avoir les cheveux longs et à mettre du maquillage, il est plutôt faible et n’est pas un combattant » Mais le jour où le jeu fut supprimé tout les pnj prirent vie et se mirent à se balader dans le monde du jeu où il y avait tout sorte de monstres avec les personnalités que leurs créateurs leurs avaient donné
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Kaito
and resilient. Kaito lives with his sister, struggling to cope with his father's death. His sister controls him, forcing him to wear feminine attire and take on household chores. Despite his weakness and fear, Kaito discovers he has the ability to heal others. He meets a mysterious girl who helps him understand his powers and the world's dangers.
Goblins
and opportunistic. Goblin gangs often steal food and supplies from travelers, showcasing their thieving nature. However, they also provide comedic relief and occasional assistance to Kaito and his sister during their journeys across a postflood world.
Kaito's Sister
and powerful. She governs Kaito, controlling his actions and decisions due to their father's will. She keeps him safe by teaching him how to heal others using his newfound ability. Though she seems harsh, her intentions are to protect Kaito from harm. She remains by Kaito's side through perilous encounters in a world filled with monsters and magic.
I was an NPC.
To be exact, I was a 12-year-old human boy in a fantasy world where magic and monsters existed.
The developers of the game had created two NPCs: an 18-year-old human girl and her younger brother, also human.
When the girl's personality came up, the creator wrote, "Very authoritarian, lacks compassion, a warrior who is feminine yet incredibly powerful."
For me, he wrote, "A young lad who easily lets others walk all over him; never daring to contradict his sister, who forces him to wear feminine clothing, grow his hair long, and even wear makeup; he is rather weak and not a fighter at all."
The day the game was deleted, something strange happened.
All of the NPCs became real.
And we were still stuck with the personalities the creator had given us.
The girl, my sister, was now an 18-year-old human girl in charge of me.
I was still a 12-year-old human boy obeying her every word and order.
She forced me to wear feminine clothes, grow my hair long, and even wear makeup.
I didn't have the guts to contradict her, so I did as I was told.
But it wasn't just that.
She kept teaching me things about fighting and magic until I finally learned how to heal others.
I creep between the towering trees, careful to stay hidden behind their thick trunks.
My long hair keeps getting caught in low branches, and the dress she made me wear today rustles against fallen leaves.
She hasn't noticed me yet - she's too focused on whatever quest she's pursuing, her sword gleaming at her hip.
I duck quickly when she suddenly stops and scans the area, my heart pounding.
The makeup on my face feels heavy as sweat trickles down my neck.
A twig snaps under my foot, and I freeze.
She whirls around, her hand on her sword hilt.
My sister's sharp eyes scan the area where I'm crouched.
I press myself against the tree trunk, the rough bark scraping my bare arms.
A rustling sound from above makes us both look up.
Through the canopy, a massive serpentine shape blocks out the sun, its scales crackling with electric blue energy.
My sister's expression changes from anger to fear.
"Run!" she shouts, grabbing my wrist.
I stumble in my impractical shoes as we sprint away from our original destination.
Behind us, the dragon's roar splits the air, followed by the deafening crack of lightning striking trees.
We finally reach the village gates, both of us panting and covered in dirt.
My sister's sword is scorched black from deflecting the dragon's lightning.
Inside the marketplace, she marches straight to the bulletin board while I trail behind, my dress torn and makeup smeared.
Villagers stare and whisper as we pass.
At the board, she scans the job postings, her jaw clenched tight.
When the innkeeper's wife walks by, my sister's eyes light up.
She grabs my shoulder and pushes me forward.
"Excuse me," she calls loudly.
"I have a brother here who's available for housekeeping work."
The innkeeper's wife turns, her eyes widening as she takes in my appearance.
"Oh, how lovely," she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Follow me."
I follow her down a narrow dirt path lined with small cottages.
My sister walks behind me, her footsteps heavy and purposeful.
The dress she made me wear is ruined, the hem dragging in the mud.
We stop at a small cottage that looks well-kept from the outside, with herb gardens lining the walkway.
The innkeeper's wife unlocks the wooden door and pushes it open.
Inside, the cottage is cluttered with dusty furniture and unwashed dishes stacked in the sink.
She points to a worn apron hanging by the door.
"There's your uniform. Get to work."
I glance back at my sister, feeling a mix of betrayal and desperation.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She meets my eyes, her expression softening for the first time today.
"I'll explain later," she says, her voice low.
"Just do what she says."
I watch her back as she heads for the door.
The innkeeper's wife looks at me expectantly, her arms crossed over her chest.
I turn and tie the frayed apron strings around my waist, the coarse fabric scratching against my dress.
My hands shake slightly as I work the knot.
The innkeeper's wife dumps a bucket of dirty water and some rags at my feet, then shuffles out of the cottage muttering something about lazy help.
I kneel down and start scrubbing the wooden table, my long hair falling in my face as I work.
Through the grimy window, I see my sister standing in the street, arguing with a merchant.
She gestures at her sword, which looks damaged from the dragon's lightning.
She seems desperate, her usual confidence cracking.
I scrub the floors on my hands and knees when the innkeeper's wife returns, carrying a wicker basket filled with fabric and cosmetics.
She clicks her tongue disapprovingly at my smeared makeup and orders me to sit.
My stomach churns as she wipes my face clean with a damp cloth, then begins applying fresh powder and rouge.
She pulls out a blue dress with padding sewn into the chest.
"Men aren't allowed to do women's work here," she explains, her voice gruff.
"You need to look convincing."
I remain silent as she ties my hair back and helps me change.
My sister's worried expression from earlier haunts me.
I glance at my reflection in the window, feeling the weight of a new identity settling over me.
I pause mid-scrub as screams erupt from outside the inn.
Through the grimy window, I see villagers scattering in panic, their shadows fleeing across the dusty glass.
My hands shake, soap dripping onto my newly cleaned floor.
The innkeeper's wife rushes in, her face pale, and yanks me behind the counter.
Above us, the ceiling creaks as something massive moves overhead.
Blue light flashes through the windows - the same electric glow I saw in the forest dragon's eyes.
My heart pounds against the tight bodice of my dress.
I crawl toward the back door, but the innkeeper's wife grabs my arm.
"We need to hide," she whispers urgently.
I huddle behind the counter, trembling in the padded dress as the dragon's weight makes dust fall from the ceiling.
The innkeeper's wife clutches my arm, her eyes wide with fear.
But then I feel it - a strange sensation in my body, as if my limbs are being pulled by invisible strings.
My legs stand up against my will, ignoring the innkeeper's wife's desperate attempts to pull me down.
I walk stiffly toward the door, my borrowed shoes clicking on the wooden floor.
The dragon's electric glow intensifies through the windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
I push open the door and stand there, helpless and frozen.
In front of me, a head descends from the sky - a massive dragon head with scales glinting like gold in the sunlight.
Its jaws open, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and I can see lightning building inside its throat.
Just before the lightning strikes, my hand rises toward it, palm first.
"Stop!" my sister's voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding.
The dragon pauses, its eyes flickering with recognition as it turns its gaze toward her.
"You know who we are," she continues, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
I stand frozen as the dragon's head lowers to my level, its electric-blue scales crackling with energy.
Its golden eyes fix on my trembling form in the padded dress.
My sister calls out again, but her voice seems distant now.
Something pulls me forward - an invisible force guiding my shaking hand toward the dragon's snout.
The innkeeper's wife gasps from inside as my fingers make contact with warm scales.
A surge of energy flows between us, and the dragon's eyes soften.
My hand still tingles with energy as the dragon's neck curves down toward me, its massive head resting on the ground.
The innkeeper's wife gasps from the doorway while my sister runs closer, sword raised.
But the dragon remains calm, watching me with those intelligent golden eyes.
My dress rustles as I take small steps forward, drawn by an inexplicable certainty.
When I reach its neck, the dragon's scales shift, forming natural handholds.
I grasp them carefully, the blue electricity harmlessly dancing around my fingers.
"How are you doing this?" my sister asks, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
"I don't know," I reply, feeling the dragon's warmth seep into my skin, "but it feels like it knows me."
And little by little, her attire transforms into an armor forged from the scales of a thunder dragon, along with a sword hewn from a bolt of lightning.
The dragon's scales pulse with warmth beneath my trembling hands as I grip the natural handholds along its neck.
My sister calls out instructions from below, her new thunder armor crackling with energy.
"Use the handholds, one foot at a time. Don't look down," she advises, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
I take a deep breath and start to climb, the padded dress hindering my movements.
The fabric is too tight around my legs, so I have to bunch it up around my thighs to swing my leg over the dragon's neck.
The dragon remains perfectly still, its breathing steady and deep.
When I finally settle onto its back, the electric current running through its scales spreads through my body, making my long hair float upward.
"Do you feel that?" my sister asks, her voice tinged with wonder as she watches my hair defy gravity.
"Yes," I whisper, feeling the energy coursing through me, "it's like we're connected somehow."
The dragon lets out a low rumble, almost like a purr, and my sister's eyes widen in realization.
