Please, do not skip this. I mean... you can, but it would be preferable if you didn't.

Here's why:

I'm making this 'warning chapter' to tell you a few things. First things first, this will be completely different than the previous Paranoia! It was supposed to be a simple rewrite at first, a quick once-over to fix the grammar, patch a few plot holes here and there, and overall, make the writing style better than it was.

Oh boy...

I don't know what happened, but it all snowballed into something vastly different. Well, the concept is still the same, if I want to be generous. Anyway, this is mostly redirected towards Paranoia!'s old readers. I'm not sure if you'll like the new version, but welcome aboard!

Now, if you're new here then... I'll be blunt. This is probably going to be the most memorable novel you'll ever read—not in a good way. I will turn this novel into a clusterfuck of madness, with controversial topics waiting right at the corner. If you want to dive in, be prepared. Grab some tissues, you'll either cry, or fap to this shit.

Oh, many of you know that the main character is a psychopath. However, there will be instances where he feels some emotions—as disconnected as they may be. There is a reason for this, which will be explained in due time. Don't worry, I've done my research about psychopaths. With that being said, thank you for checking this out, and happy reading. :)

A silver streak of lightning zapped through the bulk of clouds. The weather forecast had positively claimed a sunny and cloudless day—that was not to be, apparently. Newspapers were gunned left and right as the wind galloped rampant through the cityscape, and children were forced to scramble back inside their homes.

Jered couldn't care a whit about the brewing storm, even less about the hustle and bustle of his neighborhood. School had just finished choking down his throat another dose of everyday minutiae, masked by promises of success in life and some other kind of bullshit he never bothered to listen to. Honestly, he'd pay more attention if they taught something useful instead of spitting down his brain dates upon dates of past events that would never make it into his curriculum.

Nowadays school's cultural-based knowledge could only push you that far, and that push was a half-hearted one. He certainly didn't need to know how to analyze the form and the structural semiotics of a poem to make a good impression at a job interview. And he'd rather be taught some god-forsaken law at school, instead of memorizing word by word the entire history behind the constitution.

And that piece of paper at the end was just a document stating you were an obedient student, not an intelligent one.

A thunderclap cracked overhead as the cluster of urban racket died off to the sky's raging symphony.

He rummaged inside his jacket, a tinkle from clattering metals ringing out as a set of keys were siphoned out and inserted into the keyhole. Jered stepped in and shut the door with a bump.

The house's archetype silence greeted him. His mother, Jane, must have been still working, he mused. Not surprising. After his father's tragic passing, the household's economy suffered a dent, and now they were barely scraping by. There were no inheritances to speak of—besides the less than generous amount in his savings deposit account—and no close relatives willing to dish out their own money to help them.

So the poor woman—God bless her—had to roll up her sleeves and put twice the effort to provide for them. Thankfully, Jasmine, his dearest sister, and himself were more than apt at taking care of the house's chores. However, instead of growing closer through hard times, it felt more like they were slowly drifting apart. He stopped paying attention when she engrossed herself in pursuing her teenage dream at her friend's house. He never understood why she put a wall between them, but he had no intention of tearing it down.

Which was why she was hardly ever at home. Dressing up her feelings with clothes and friends had done the trick for her. She had probably found a family in someone else, a little utopia to hide the stains of a dysfunctional family. It was disheartening to see Jane's faltering smile when she had to see her daughter leave for so long, only to sleep under the loving embrace of another family. He resented Jasmine a bit for that; she should have known better than hiding away somewhere else, leaving behind an even more tangled mess Jane was trying so hard to unknot.

He entertained the thought that if he wasn't so empty inside, he might have found respite in some odd endeavor as well, just so he could escape from those suffocating walls that reeked more of a prison than a home. And in a sense, it was fine. Because it was his prison, his cage, his purgatory.

There was no need to wear a mask when he was alone.

Jered traipsed up the stairs and shambled to his room. He chucked his school bag against a corner somewhere in his room; left to be unattended until the next morning. He loosened out an exhausted huff before heading towards the bathroom, where his reflection stared back at him with all the apathy of a teaspoon.

His life had become this: a quagmire of boring moments that wouldn't have been out of place in a black and white moving picture. God, he wished someone would shoot him and make him feel some adrenaline because he was about to go crazy. It was like having claustrophobia, a tapping in the back of his brain that was getting impatient, and he wanted nothing more than do something stupid so he'd feel alive, or maybe something noteworthy so he'd feel above everyone else. Whether it was for the good, or for the bad of others, he wanted to be special. His father would have understood; they had the same mettle.

It was such a handicap being ambitious for the wrong purposes, in a playground that limited his methods. At least he had still a long road ahead of him before old age pinned him down a bed, otherwise, he would have not been there postulating about his boring life. Instead, he would have been somewhere else, still postulating about his boring life, but with a gun pointed at his head.

He splashed cold water against his face.

No... suicide was for the weak-minded. People wore that excuse as if it were a new trend.

Jered yanked himself out of his daydream and waded towards his bed, where he crashed face down into it with a muffled groan. Yet another day would have gone by uneventfully... thank God his life wasn't a movie, or there would have been no one there to watch it.

[Welcome to Paranoia!]

The sudden hue of light swathing his face disturbed his unplanned afternoon nap. He swung his eyes back open, ready to lash out a long string of expletives... only to come face to face with a square-ish hologram.

[Downloading files: 1%]

[It will require 6 hours and 28 minutes to complete the download. The system advises you to sleep in the meantime to hasten the process.]

"I would have kept on blissfully sleeping if you darn alienish oddity hadn't woken me up!" he unconsciously hissed.

Of course, yelling at his hallucination would have not made it go away. Jered was relatively acquainted with such symptoms, and he wondered if this time it was due to his BPD friend's medicines whom he had borrowed from. She rarely used them anyway, and he stopped shortly after too.

He used the heel of his hand to rub the last vestiges of his somnolence away. Those overlapping screens were still hovering a few inches from his eyes, and in reaction to that he just cocked an eyebrow up, "Oh not again..." he took a long and heavy breath, as if savoring something abstract yet unmistakably familiar to his sensory apparatus, "Hmm... cancel download!" he ordered.

Nothing happened, of course.

Jered tucked his legs underneath the weight of his body for more comfort, his hand slowly flitting forth to touch the screen—but as he had been already expecting, it just phased through. There was not even a ripple or a feeling, "Hmm..." well, shit. What now? There was no magical word to make it go away, at least he had not found one yet. He careened his neck forward, and licked it. Honestly, the last time something like that happened, the smiley face staring at him blushed when he defiled it with his *****. Good times.

No taste made its way back, not that he expected it to. It would have been fun watching the screen in front of him turn red in embarrassment though.

"Whatever..." with his newfound novelty winding down into plain boredom, his face restored its unflappable and cold exterior. He sagged back on his bed, wholly uncaring of the glowing inmate close-by. It would have gone away on its own, given enough time. And if it didn't... well, the nearest asylum was twenty minutes' worth of walking if he ever wanted a change of scenery. He took another long breath, and slowly snored away into his dreamscape.

--------

The moonlight trickled in as a flurry of hail whacked against his windowpane, orchestrating soothing drumming when the rain pelted against the glass, and tottered when a rather strong thunderclap raged out. It was just a background reminder that the weather was still going on, and showed no sign of simmering down.

[Downloading files: 99%]

[It will require 2 minutes and 14 seconds to complete the download.]

Jered had been awake for a while now, fiddling his time away by leafing through his social media's baloney. All his friends had an account there, with a substantial amount of followers. And of course, his sister hadn't been bailed out of the quandary of selfies and noteworthy poets and writers' quotes as well. He guessed it was a sort of teen-like social stigma to categorize the most outcast ones from those that followed the trend like a sheep.

Not that he could blame them, he had an account as well. But in confront to his peers, his homepage was comparatively lacking. No videos or selfies, only a short streak of photos where he was tagged in. He started scrolling down and down and down... his thumb dragging itself up across the screen as a bevy of images and posts flashed past, his eyes filtering through emblematic attention-whores and self-entitled assholes. Until a particular update halted his finger.

It was from his dear sister. She and Alison—aka her best chum—were doing faces to the camera. Jasmine's blond hair was bundled up in a ponytail, and she had her greenish eyes locked down on her nose to make the sight even sillier. Alison, instead, was hugging her from behind with her eyes squeezed shut and her tongue stuck out.

Despite the poor-lit setup, the image's quality did nothing to curtail their beauty. In fact, the selfie had already gone over 100 likes.

"..."

He always thought of himself as free of mundane emotions. Jered never understood how someone could feel guilty, sad, or depressed to the point of suicide. Even the tiniest of lies could make someone cower behind a sheet of guilt for a long time. Lies were necessary; 'you should never feel bad for twisting the truth into something people can bear and not crumble down under its weight', his father was a master in that field. That's why he frowned. Sometimes he felt something... but it was so faint, so feeble, and so tragically out of his grasp that it made him feel uneasy. Was he lying to himself, or was he so devoid of emotions that he translated any sway of mood as something more?

Jered hummed. Should he like her selfie or not? His sister had never been bashful about it, barraging likes on every photo that had his name cited on it, and he felt the need to reciprocate that. His train of thoughts suddenly slammed on its brakes when the delightful beep of a microwave sounded out next to his ears.

[Paranoia! has been successfully installed!]

[Congratulations on having been chosen as the System holder! You can access it by saying the command 'Menu'. Some features are currently locked, you may use them as you slowly become stronger and complete quests. Be mindful of not leaking Paranoia's existence under any circumstance!]

"Oooh-kay..."

Jered chewed the inside of his cheek as he dragged his eyes over. The newly-arrived hovering interface turned up with a beeping sound in its starter package. Additionally, the content inside was doing a poorly copycat job of these newfangled game ads that had been popping up on the internet lately. With a deep and peeved groan, he started scrutinizing the screen, and aside from that last intimidatory reminder at the end, it felt like his brain was trying to hoax—or worse, scam—him. The only thing missing was the voice with a stereotype thick foreign accent trying to wheedle him into giving his information away.

Well, there was not much to do anyway.

He cast a glance at his neglected phone, whose screen had already gone black from the temporary disuse. He wanted to at least put a funny comment under Jasmine's selfie, if just to rile her up a little bit... and look cool while doing so. His father had always strong-armed nihilism and confidence in him, and as he grew up, he developed a humoristic view of the world. 'Life means very little in the grand scheme of things, son. For ****'s sake, break that scheme.', John had told him enigmatically. 'Truth belongs to those who seek it... and if you can't find it, make of your lie the truth everyone else will seek.'

Jered could still remember the ghost of a smile on his father's face—a longing chuckle just beneath the surface. John was the ubermensch Nietzsche would have been proud of. A true superman. He wondered if his mother and Jasmine had ever noticed it, not that he was any better. He was still trying to find the scheme the man had so wistfully spoken about. It was a week before he died. A week before things fell apart. A week before Jered had his first nightmare.

'Hell is empty. All the devils are here...'

He shook his head, and with that last internal battle winding down, he crammed his quandaries into the backburner of his mind, "Menu."

[Status] [Library] [Limbo]

A new interface scrolled down before his eyes.

Those things had a reactionary response to vocal commands. That was certainly not what he had expected. Jered was a bit floored, the source of the problem eluded him. And it was not normal, not even for him—and he could easily write a book about his idiosyncrasy. His brain might be having its jollies by hornswoggling him like that, probably out of a vindictive streak from all those pills he ingested. In his defense, he was still alive. Not that it was a good excuse, but who cares? Definitely not him, so his brain shouldn't either.

But no, that smelled way too fishy to be a by-product of his vengeful brain. He narrowed his eyes and pressed on, "Status."

[Name: Jered von Jacobs]

[Age: 16]

[Race: Human/? ]

[Class: - | Type: - ]

[Title: - ]

[Rank: - | Unlocked Veins: - ]

[Magic Density: - ]

[Mana Pool: - ]

[Soul: Mortal | Average]

[Sin: - ]

[Mandatory Quests: 0/4]

He studied the values, attempting to understand their esoteric connotations. And beside some of his personal data, everything else was fairly ambiguous. Most of these terms were making no sense. Was he supposed to somehow fill them in with numbers and letters? He didn't want to shape up an erroneous theory on to base his future judgments on. Damn, he still couldn't believe it...

[I see you have already started getting acquainted with the system!]

Jered blinked at the screen. This one had shown up on its own.

[Mana is the groundwork of any world, and also the best attribute to prove your strength with. In light of the fact that you'll need every ounce of power you can get, we have adjusted the system to better fit your mindset.]

Another notification sprung up out of nowhere, and it seemed perfectly au courant with him and his actions.

[We have endowed you with a library feature to better aid you in your endeavors, avoiding all that asperity of learning skills through good old hard work. You'll have to come in contact with a skill book for it to be consumed by the Library. Of course, relying too much on free meals will not make you powerful, be mindful of that. To prove yourself worthy of Paranoia! complete the mandatory 4 quests. After that, the Wheel of Fate will choose your class. The 'Limbo' feature is currently unlocked. Do beware that failing the trials will erase any and all of your memories of the system.]

All of the prompts closed off once his eyes read the last line. He wetted his lips and fell into deep ponder, stuck between attaching a weight to those screens and running to the nearest wringer to get his brain thoroughly scanned. It didn't feel like tomfoolery. And unless he had fallen victim to a prank staged up by a bunch of extraterrestrial creatures in some uncharted corner of the Milky Way—only to humor their masses through their equivalent of the internet—he couldn't come up with anything else.

He still chortled at the thought; that wouldn't have been that unwelcoming, all things considered. Maybe he could become an influencer there.

[Let's get you started with your first mandatory quest!]

[Quest of Kindness: Your mother is getting back home, fatigued, and carrying with her another day of hardships. Prepare her a sumptuous dinner to show her some goddamn loving, unfilial host.]

[Reward: Mana Circuit]

"Oh wow, don't get your virtual panties in a twist, system."

Jered chewed his bottom lip in ambivalence. Lighting up the screen of his mobile showed that it was indeed almost time for his mother to be back. He was no expert cook, but he had enough experience to pull out something edible and fairly decent... and, why not? He was quite famished himself.

"Also... don't ever take that tone with me, or I swear I will fill your library with Literotica."

------

Jane von Jacobs, mother of two, assistant secretary for a small company in Alabama—and to whoever asked, a knockout lady still in her prime, thank you very much—was beyond riled up. No, she was incensed. No, scratch that, she was unquestionably and absolutely furious. For all of her god-given patience, she just couldn't put up with Brad McNair, the quintessential office sexual harasser, one of the most stereotype perverts she thought existed only on third-rate movies... until she met him, that is.

The only good thing was that, while her situation strongly resembled a cliché drama series, Brad didn't actually hold any true position of power in the company. So his veiled threats and cheesy flirts were nothing but farts, and despite being harmless, nobody would be pleased to catch the whiff of a particularly smelly fart. And ladies and gentlemen, Brad was a nasty one, Jane could acknowledge that even in a court. Hell, once or twice she considered suing him only for his ridiculously thick eyebrows; those monstruosities should have been illegal.

She heaved a deep sigh as she pulled back the handbrake and got out of her Mini Coupee. They used to have a bigger and more exquisite car, when her husband was still alive. With the financial problems that jabbed at her from all sides after his death, she was constrained to trade it up for a smaller one and use the rest of the money to pay off debts.

Jane's heels clacked against the softwood flooring, her face scrunching up from the ache her poor feet were weathering through. Going around with such footwear daily was literally doing a number on her. Screw work's clothes code! Screw her job! But most importantly, screw Brad! No, wait. He'd probably 'like' that.

She dragged a hand across her face, failing to get rid of her weariness, or some of her anger, "Ah, to hell with it." she snorted, tugging her feet out of her heels and letting them dangle by the hem of her fingers. The pain abated a bit, much to her relief. Now barefooted, with only her pantyhose cushioning her steps, she strode forth.

"Mom?" her son's voice wafted from the kitchen. She paused. The kitchen's glow cast a blanket of light on the shadowy hallway she was in, and the hodgepodge of noises from within was like the only sign that her house was not dead—not completely, at least.

"Jered?" Jane called back, "What are you doing?" she sauntered inside, and the sight made her arch a shapely eyebrow up.

Jered pulled the faucet lever on the sink down, and the running water tapered off. He turned around and dried his hands with a cloth, "Oh, you know... cooking."

Her eyebrow went even higher as she delivered him a 'duh' sort of look, "I can see that, honey." her eyes then scoured over the exquisitely set up table, to the pots and pans over a low flame, and then back to him, "You must have been really hungry to actually not wait for me. Is your sister not coming back?" she asked as she sank down on a chair, rubbing her left calf.

"No, she's not. Alison and her mother must have persuaded Jasmine into staying there for another week or something, yet again." he turned off the fire and hummed to himself.

"Be nice." her tone was supposed to be chiding, but the twinges of her sadness still reverberated through, "They're being awfully kind to be taking care of her so much."

"I guess." he nodded thoughtfully, "At least she looks happy."

Jane smiled ruefully, not that he could see with his back turned, "Yeah..."

The conversation ended, and Jered poured spoonfuls of rice over his and her plate.

"Curry?" she bit back a smile as she took long sniffs of the spicy aroma in the other pot, "That's my favorite! How did you know?"

"I know, Jasmine knows, our dear neighbors know, gosh, even Jesus knows. The smell must have reached heaven before we could stop it. Our whole neighborhood should be throwing money at me and Jasmine for stopping you at that time, or you would've kept making it every day." he chuckled at the resurfacing memories, "We were so nauseated by eating curry that even saying its name out loud made us flinch. Jasmine aptly called it 'The-Food-That-Must-Not-Be-Named'... I hope you realize how serious the situation was."

"It was not that bad," she mumbled defensively.

"It wasn't? You need a memory check mom, let me explain things to you." he rolled up his sleeves and sat down, "You do remember that supermarket a few streets away? The one that closed down a few months ago." at her nod he continued, "Well, I overheard their cashiers whispering about the 'Curry Lady' that'd come in and buy the same ingredients every day. And then, of course, things took a tragic turn when Halloween came around and you became a horror tale to them. It was so ridiculous that somehow you became both a joke and a legend among their circle. And I don't even know how many horror stories they based on you."

She gasped overdramatically, "That can't possibly be true. I'm sure they were just talking about my beauty." she whipped her hair around to add to her point.

"Mom..."

"Just kidding." Jane chuckled behind her hand, "I know, that was a rough phase of mine." she poked her food around a bit, the ghost of a smile gracing her face, "But it was a funny one. You and Jasmine took control of the kitchen and you'd shoo me away every time I tried to step in."

"And then it all snowballed into a warzone." he supplied theatrically, "You were so obsessed we were kinda starting to believe those tales, mom. Not to mention that the smell of curry permeated the house for quite a while. Jasmine had to spray all of her Louis Vuitton perfume to make the air breathable again."

She smiled, and it was a reminiscent one. A smile that concealed all of the thoughts and memories and good stuff...

Jered brought a forkful of rice and chicken into his mouth, his attention glued on that smile, and everything it contained.

Some things never change...

[Quest completed.]

[You have been awarded a Mana Circuit]

[Do you want to open the reward right now? Y/N]

... but maybe, with a little help, life would start looking up—or look even more down. Who knew. Jered was in it for the thrilling joyride anyway.