The Extra-dimensional Pioneer Of Fiction [Draft]

Arlo sat hunched over his desk, the faint glow of his BrainLink casting long shadows across the room. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and the faint hum of the holographic screen. His workspace was a chaotic sprawl of notes, diagrams, and ritual tools—evidence of days spent in relentless preparation.

"I need something stronger than a gun," Arlo muttered, frustration edging his voice. "Something ritualistic… something divine."

The thought had been gnawing at him since he'd accepted the quest. Freddy Krueger wasn't just a nightmare—he was a manifestation of fear itself, sustained by the Dream Demons and Belief. To defeat him, Arlo needed more than brute force. He needed a weapon that could sever Freddy's connection to the source of his power.

That thought led him down a rabbit hole of mysticism research. Ritualistic magic wasn't new to him—he had encountered references to it during his training—but he had avoided delving too deeply until now. 

"Ritualistic magic," Arlo muttered to himself, scrolling through the pages of text. "If Freddy Krueger gets his power from the Dream Demons, then I need something stronger to cut him off. If the biblical God exists in that world, maybe I can borrow that strength."

The thought wasn't entirely comforting. Asking for divine intervention was something Arlo had ever seriously considered, He was a believer of Catholicism due to his parent especially his mother being a devout believer. Still, the stakes demanded drastic measures, and he wasn't about to leave anything to chance. 

Arlo's fingers traced the intricate symbols on the holographic screen—ancient, twisting glyphs that seemed to pulse with latent energy. He'd spent hours studying the Hermes and Ancient Hermes languages, fragments of knowledge he'd carried over from his past life. The BrainLink had helped refine those memories, pulling together details he might have otherwise missed.

"Ancient Hermes," he said, his voice low. "Powerful, but dangerous. No protections. Using it is like shouting into the void and hoping nothing nasty hears you."

He switched to the simplified Hermes language, the symbols less imposing but still alien. "This one's safer, but it lacks the raw effectiveness of Ancient Hermes. The guiding words are essential, though—they can start any ceremony."

Leaning back in his chair, Arlo ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling under the surface. "Balancing power and safety. Typical RPG logic."

He repeated the guiding words aloud, his tongue stumbling over the syllables. "Ar—Ars… Asa… no, wait." He exhaled sharply. "This language is a nightmare to pronounce."

Switching back to Ancient Hermes, Arlo felt the weight of the symbols settle over him. The language was direct, effective, and utterly exposed. One wrong word, and he could invite something far worse than Freddy.

"Direct, effective, and completely exposed," he said under his breath. "No wonder it's dangerous. One wrong word, and I could be inviting something worse than Freddy." 

But learning the Ancient Hermes and Hermes language are necessary for being a beyonder, so learning to read and write is not a bad idea. Only problem is that He does not know if this is going to work to call the Biblical God, to his knowledge Latin had long been the sacred language of the Church, used in exorcisms, blessings, and rituals meant to invoke divine protection. If Arlo wanted to call upon the biblical God's power—or at least something that aligned with it—Latin would likely be the safer bet. Unlike Ancient Hermes, which was raw, volatile, and largely untested in religious contexts, Latin had a well-documented history of being used against demonic forces.

During his research the Roman Rite of Exorcism, for instance, relied heavily on Latin prayers and commands, many of which were believed to carry divine authority. The phrase Vade retro satana ("Go back, Satan") was one of many invocations used by exorcists to repel demonic entities. While Freddy Krueger wasn't a traditional demon, he thrived on fear and was empowered by otherworldly entities—the Dream Demons. That put him in a category close enough to justify using tried-and-true methods of spiritual warfare.

"Latin might actually be the best option," Arlo murmured, pulling up texts on classical exorcisms and protective prayers. "If Freddy feeds on belief, then belief-based rituals should weaken him. And people have believed in the power of Latin for centuries."

The theory made sense. Unlike Hermes, which was about manipulating hidden forces through language, Latin had a long-standing connection to structured, divine authority. If he used it correctly, he might not just weaken Freddy—he might sever his connection to the Dream Demons entirely.

Of course, the real challenge was execution. Latin exorcisms weren't just about saying the right words; they required conviction. Faith. Arlo had always been skeptical, but if there was ever a time to put belief to the test, it was now.

.......

The faint hum of Arlo's BrainLink filled the room as he scrolled through ceremonial texts and the Ancient Hermes, Hermes languages, and Latin he had spent the last few days mastering. The glow from the hologram reflected on his focused face.

After days of relentless practice and the aid of his Linguistics Mastery skill, Arlo's proficiency in both languages had Level up.

[Skill Level Up!]

[Linguistic Mastery reached Level 5]

He could now articulate the tongue-twisting phrases of Ancient Hermes without stumbling, though the weight of the language still sent chills down his spine.

"Progress," Arlo muttered, sitting back in his chair. "Not perfect, but it'll do."

With his linguistic training complete, Arlo turned his attention to gathering the necessary tools for his rituals. He'd learned from Amelia that the HUB had shops for nearly every conceivable need, and Fantastic Alchemy had come highly recommended by a lot of pioneer which mean that Maria is quite famous.

.......

[Shopping District - Merchant Street: Fantastic Alchemy]

Inside the shop, he marveled at the eclectic collection of magical paraphernalia. Shelves overflowed with shimmering potions, glowing crystals, and ornate ritual tools.

Behind the counter stood Maria, a smiling at Arlo. "Hello, Arlo what business do have here in my shop"

"I need essential oils, herbs, ritual candles, and a silver dagger," Arlo said.

Maria smiled at him. "That'll be 50 credits. You'll find the best in the business here, so don't try haggling."

Arlo nodded, transferring the credits through his BrainLink. He also picked up four low health potions and 3 low mana potion which cost 100 credits for one vial, knowing they might be lifesavers in the quest ahead, so getting more potion is not bad. "Five hundred credits for all of these?" he asked. 

Maria shrugged. "Quality costs. Don't skimp on your survival, Arlo."

Arlo couldn't argue with that, he is only left with [1045 credits].

After leaving the shop, he returned to his apartment and carefully packed his supplies. The silver dagger gleamed ominously under the soft light of his workspace, a stark reminder of the danger he was about to face

..............

By the end of two days, his preparations were complete. As he stood amidst his meticulously organized gear, a mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbled within him. His BrainLink buzzed, and Aria's familiar face appeared in the holographic interface.

"Arlo," she greeted, her tone light but professional. "I hear you've completed your training with Amelia. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Arlo replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I've also picked my next quest. I'm ready to head to the Quest Hall."

Aria's expression softened. "Good work. Go alone this time. I have some tasks to finish, but I trust you can handle it."

"Understood," Arlo said, though he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He'd hoped for her company, even just for a brief moment.

"Keep me updated when you're done," Aria added. "And remember—stay sharp."

"I will," Arlo promised.

As the call ended, Arlo stood in the silence of his apartment, his reflection visible in the polished blade of the silver dagger. He took a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Time to see if all this preparation was worth it," he murmured, gathering his gear and stepping out the door, ready to face the unknown.

=================================================

Arlo rubbed his eyes, the faint glow of his BrainLink fading as he silenced his morning alarm. He had a full day ahead, and there was no room for delays. Pulling himself out of bed, he stood in front of his closet, contemplating what to wear for a mission that would drop him into the 1980s. Blending in was critical, not just for survival but to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

"A writer," Arlo murmured to himself. "It's the perfect cover. Curious but not suspicious. A quiet observer." He nodded at his reflection, pulling a sky-blue long-sleeve shirt from his closet. Leaving the top two buttons open for a relaxed look, he tucked it neatly into a pair of navy-blue jeans and added black boots to complete the ensemble.

As he stared at himself in the mirror, Arlo tilted his head. "Something's missing," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. His eyes scanned the room before landing on a faded denim jacket draped over a chair. "Of course."

He slipped on the jacket, stepping back to check the full look. The mirror reflected a confident young man who could easily pass for a character from a coming-of-age film.

He smirked, adjusting the collar. "Not bad. I'd blend right in with the Breakfast Club."

Satisfied, Arlo turned his attention to the essentials. His backpack was already packed with ritual supplies, including the silver dagger, candles, and health potions he'd purchased from Maria. He gave it a final once-over, ensuring nothing was forgotten.

"This should do," he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

.........

Stepping off the train, Arlo adjusted his denim jacket, taking a moment to glance up at the towering structure of Aerith Tower. The building's sleek, futuristic design gleamed in the morning sunlight, a stark contrast to the world of the 1980s he was about to enter. He exhaled deeply and walked toward the Quest Hall, the faint sound of his boots tapping against the polished tiles echoing in the spacious lobby.The hall was as lively as ever, filled with pioneers preparing for their quests or returning from them, each person buzzing with a sense of purpose. Arlo made his way to the counter, where the female receptionist sat, her attention focused on the glowing interface in front of her.

"Name?" she asked, not looking up.

"Arlo Leeroy," he replied confidently, his hands resting on the counter.

The female receptionist's fingers moved rapidly over the console as she processed his request. "Quest details?"

"Solve the Mystery in the 1428 Elm Street," Arlo said, keeping his tone steady despite the gravity of the task ahead.The female receptionist paused briefly, her gaze flickering to him before returning to her work.

"Interesting choice," she remarked, her voice betraying no emotion. After a few moments, she nodded. "Quest confirmed. Portal transfer is ready. Please proceed to the platform."

"Thank you," Arlo said, offering a polite nod before turning away from the counter.

The platform glowed with swirling blue and white energy, the portal's power humming like a living thing. Arlo approached it, taking a deep breath as he adjusted the strap of his backpack. He glanced back at the busy hall one last time, then returned his focus to the shimmering portal.

"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "No turning back now."

As he stepped onto the platform, the pull of the portal was immediate and disorienting. It felt like his body was being stretched and compressed simultaneously, a sensation he had never quite gotten used to. The world around him blurred, colors and shapes swirling in a chaotic dance as the portal pulled him toward his destination.In the midst of the sensory overload, Arlo steeled himself, gripping his pack tightly.

"Time to put all that prep to work," he thought, his determination hardening.

A final, disorienting jolt shot through him, and then everything went still. When the swirling colors faded, Arlo found himself standing on a middle of nowhere but the unmistakable ambiance of the 1980s surrounding him. Boxy cars pass-by, kids rode their bikes down the road, and the warm sunlight.

Adjusting his jacket, Arlo took in the sights, the faint buzz of nostalgia mingling with the weight of his quest.

"Let's see how this goes," he said under his breath, a determined glint in his eye as he began to walk down the street.