Online Game: I Started with Max Charisma and Caught the Goddess's Eye

Luca's consciousness snapped back all of a sudden.

He had no idea how much time had passed—minutes, hours, or an eternity—but when awareness finally returned, he realized he was enveloped in absolute darkness.

This was not mere shadow. This was a void so profound it devoured even sound itself. No matter how hard he tried to speak, not the faintest trace of a voice emerged.

"You've awakened. That alone means you've passed the first trial."

The same distant, androgynous voice he had heard before echoed faintly—though "echoed" was the wrong word, since the darkness allowed no echoes at all.

"The darkness has not swallowed you completely. That means there is still a chance for you to solve the riddle hidden within it. I will give you one hint—only one. It is the only guidance you will receive."

The voice fell silent for a moment, as though savoring the weight of what it was about to say.

"Face your own heart, Luca."

And with that, the voice vanished completely, leaving nothing but suffocating silence.

Luca's mind began to race.

What exactly did the hint mean?

Face my own heart? Does that mean this riddle lies within the realm of the mind once again? Could it be that I am not trapped in darkness at all—but imprisoned by my own thoughts?

The moment he formed this suspicion, some of the tension in his body eased.

If the puzzle was a matter of the spirit, then perhaps his dream-related abilities might prove useful. He wasn't entirely sure whether those skills would function here—but as long as the challenge was mental in nature, there was at least a chance.

With that line of reasoning, he wasted no time in taking action.

Drawing upon his own body, Luca began to weave great amounts of Dreamweaving Mist. He forced it outward, willing himself to sink deeper into the layers of dream.

The arsenal of dream-related skills he possessed would grant him far greater freedom inside a deep dreamscape. And with freedom, he would be able to gather clues—tiny traces that could reveal the true shape of the riddle. Only then could he attempt to solve it.

As the Mist thickened rapidly, an overwhelming wave of drowsiness crashed over him.

His eyelids grew heavy. Slowly, he surrendered, letting himself drift into dream.

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the abyss.

He found himself standing in the heart of the Imperial Capital's city district.

The sudden, jarring shift of scenery made the truth clear—this was the dream. He was now inside the first layer of dream.

Which meant the place of absolute darkness he had just escaped… had not been a dream at all.

"The riddle must be hidden within that absolute darkness. But then… why was the hint to face my own heart?"

Luca grew even more puzzled.

He decided to descend into an even deeper layer of dream. Within dreams, the speed at which he could generate Dreamweaving Mist was far faster, and so this time it didn't take long before he slipped down into the next dream layer.

Here, the environment around him abruptly shifted—he now found himself inside Shelter 102.

No sooner had he arrived than he heard familiar voices echoing nearby—his parents, Donlow, and several others. They were talking and laughing together, their conversation warm and lively.

Luca strained to catch exactly what they were discussing. But just as he began to focus, a jarring, discordant noise erupted from every direction at once.

Instinctively, he lifted his gaze skyward. The once bright, sunlit Calla sky was suddenly overrun with thick, rolling clouds. And within the depths of those clouds, something darker still seemed to writhe and surge.

Thanks to his many dream-related abilities, Luca's instincts were razor-sharp when it came to shifts within the dreamscape. In that moment, he realized the truth: the absolute darkness beyond the dream had begun to seep into the first layer of dream.

The distortions he was witnessing in this second layer were nothing but a reflection of that intrusion.

"Could facing my heart mean I'm being driven to advance into the deepest dream layer? That in the deepest dream, I'll be forced to confront the truest, rawest form of myself—the self buried in the deepest part of my subconscious?"

Luca knew very well how dangerous such a place was. Even the most powerful dreamweavers risked everything when venturing into the deepest layer of dream.

For in that place, everything that existed was nothing but the purest manifestation of the dreamer's core consciousness. And if the dreamer themselves was also the dreamweaver… then in that abyss, madness was a near certainty.

A shadow of worry passed through him. But given the state of the dream and the hint he had been given, he had no choice but to dive deeper.

He tilted his head back, staring at the sky that was on the verge of being swallowed completely by darkness, and let out a long sigh. Then he pressed forward, conjuring yet more Dreamweaving Mist.

This time, the Mist surged forth faster than ever before.

And so he sank again, passing smoothly into a deeper layer of dream.

But unlike before, he didn't linger at any of the in-between levels. He plunged downward in one unbroken rush—straight into a place he had never set foot in before: the deepest layer of dream.

Through layer upon layer he fell, until at last he arrived in a dreamscape where no more Dreamweaving Mist could be generated.

It was obvious—this was the deepest dream.

The deepest layer of dream took the form of a towering mountain.

Luca now stood at its base, and in that instant he understood: if he wanted to truly confront his own heart, he would have to climb to the summit.

At the top lay an abandoned facility. Somewhere deep inside, his subconscious believed, was the thing that mattered most to him—the very core of his inner self.

He drew in a deep breath.

"Since it's come to this, there's no other way. I have to reach the summit!"

With those words, he surged forward at full speed, racing up the mountain path.

Along the way, no obstacles rose to slow him. After all, this was his own deepest dreamscape—here, nothing could hinder his advance unless he began opposing his true self directly.

And truth be told, he wanted to know. He wanted to see with his own eyes what it was that his heart valued most.

Though he often acted distant and indifferent toward others, Luca had always believed that he did, in fact, care for certain people and certain things. Reality simply left him little time to dwell on such matters.

Perhaps the hint—face your own heart—was meant to force him to uncover exactly who, or what, he cherished most.

He didn't know how much time passed, but eventually Luca reached the summit.

At the gates of the abandoned facility, he was confronted with his first true dilemma.

To open the great iron doors, he was forced to choose between two options.

A red button labeled Donlow.

A blue button labeled Sophia.

"So only these two are allowed into the very core of my heart? As I thought… Susie and I only knew each other earlier than the rest. In my heart, she's always been more like a little sister."

Luca muttered the words to himself.

In the real world, choosing between the three of them would have been nearly impossible. But here, in the deepest layer of dream, his id—his truest self—stepped in and made the choice for him.

At last, he pressed the blue button—Sophia's button.

The instant his finger struck it, a burst of radiant light erupted from the depths of the facility. The interior seemed to shift, reshaping itself as if in response.

A ripple of tension coursed through Luca's chest. He had no idea what impact this choice might have on his subconscious.

But regardless, he had no choice but to press forward.

He had already begun the act of facing his heart. To falter now, to turn back halfway, was unthinkable.

If he tried to withdraw from his subconscious at this moment, without unraveling the riddle, the absolute darkness would consume him whole.

After stepping into the abandoned facility, Luca discovered that the main corridor was lined on both sides with countless photographs.

Each photo was of someone he remembered—people he had known, worked with, and fought alongside more than once.

Some of the photographs were crystal clear, while others appeared blurred and faded.

This, he realized, reflected the weight each of these individuals carried in his heart. The clearer the image, the more important they were to him; the hazier the outline, the less significance they held.

But Luca did not linger on them. He gave the rows of photographs only the briefest glance before pressing on toward the depths of the facility.

When he arrived before the electronic gate of the facility's main building, a second choice awaited him.

The red button bore the emblem of the Morning Star Organization. The blue button bore the flag of the Kingdom of Clinton.

It meant that he was being forced to choose between Morning Star and the Kingdom of Clinton.

In reality, this was no less than a demand to decide between the Human Federation and the Eternal World.

It was the kind of decision that could never be made lightly.

He was human. By rights, under normal circumstances, he should stand with the Human Federation. Yet all of his power—all of it—came from the Eternal World. If he abandoned the Eternal World entirely, then surely those powers would vanish as well.

But this time, unlike before, he did not hesitate.

Without the slightest pause, he pressed the red button—the one marked with the insignia of Morning Star.

"No matter what, I am human. If choosing humanity means surrendering all of my power… then that is something I can absolutely accept."

Luca whispered the words to himself.

The instant his finger touched the red button, the main building of the base erupted with an ominous crimson glow.

That glow was proof—his choice had once again shifted something deep within his subconscious.

As the massive doors swung open, he wasted no time. He rushed straight inside.

The interior of the main building was filled with countless rooms. Each room preserved one of Luca's memories, and inside each room lay the object most deeply imprinted upon him from that particular memory.

He pressed forward, passing through room after room, until at last he reached the great hall on the first floor of the building.

The floor of the hall was divided into two equal halves.

One half was etched with intricate symbols of the chaos deities—a sign that standing on this side meant aligning oneself with the forces of Chaos.

The other half bore markings far stranger: symbols so alien and incomprehensible they defied reason itself. These were unmistakably the sigils of the Ancient Gods, beings who wielded primal power.

For Luca, this choice was almost laughably simple.

There was no conceivable way he could ever cooperate with the Ancient Gods. Those beings posed an immense threat not only to humanity's real world, but to the Eternal World as well.

In fact, to Luca, even cooperating with Zenobia was within the realm of possibility—

but with the Ancient Gods? That was absolutely impossible.