The Good Teacher

Guy remembered this place. It was a place most familiar, and personal, to him. It was his studio apartment from his previous life!

The room itself was minimalistic and condensed, roughly 60 square metres by Guy's estimate. However, to him, it was more than enough. There was a comfortable twin bed, a kitchen, a couch, and television, what more could he ask for?

Guy took a deep breath and was greeted by the familiar smell of home.

"Why is it here though?" Guy muttered to himself. He paced around the area and inspected his surroundings. Although it had only been a little over a year since his arrival into this world, he had a perfect memory of this dwelling. To his surprise, the replica within his so-called core was faithfully accurate in its representation, down to the unique way in which he folded the corners of his bedspread.

A nostalgic sigh escaped Guy's mouth as a plethora of emotions swelled up within him.

"Mast? Can you hear me?" Guy yelled out loud, only to face silence in response. Either Mast was willfully ignoring Guy, or Mast couldn't hear him at all. Usually, Mast never failed to answer Guy's calls, since their conversations were usually well spaced, so it had to be the latter case.

While at Guy's realm, the core was close to becoming a physical construct, it was primarily an abstract existence. The way Guy accessed this place was through |Introspect|, a spell that forced him to look within himself. This shouldn't be out of Mast's range of purview since he could communicate with Guy while he was in the RoK, which according to Mast was also an existence tethered to Guy's soul.

So why couldn't Mast hear him now?

After a short bout of contemplation, Guy found himself getting drawn towards his familiar surroundings. Subconsciously, Guy walked over to his kitchen and opened the refrigerator. As he did so, he saw various stacks of packaged and labelled Tupperware filled to the brim with cooked food items. The handwriting on the label was familiar to him, "It's Mom's!"

With sparkling eyes, Guy hastily pulled out all the containers and popped them open. While cold, the aroma of the various cuisines assaulted his senses. Overwhelmed with nostalgia, Guy's eyes started to well up with excitement and sorrow. Guy quickly shoved a container of fried rice into the Microwave and heated it. As he did so, he pulled out a spoon and dug into the container of homemade ice cream.

"Mmmm," Guy moaned with pleasure as the frigid, creamy substance melted on his tongue and slid down the back of his throat. The sweetness from the natural mango flavouring danced a while longer in his mouth before dissipating with the coldness. Without pause, Guy dug the spoon deep and shoved another spoonful into his mouth. Another elongated moan emanated as he processed the nostalgic taste once again.

By the time the fried rice had heated up, Guy had nearly mowed through the entire ice cream container. Surprisingly, Guy didn't feel full at all. Guy washed his mouth to clear his palate and dug into the container of fried rice. The rice had dried a little due to the reheating, however, the taste hadn't diminished significantly. Smiling like an excited 5-year-old, Guy shovelled spoonfuls of the rice into his mouth.

The container of fried rice was finished within half an hour. But Guy didn't feel full just yet. He scanned over the other containers and picked the next food item of his choosing. His mother absolutely loved to cook. She had travelled all over the world and studied under various renowned chefs - professionals at the top of their games - and learned a plethora of cuisines. In his childhood, Guy never once ate out. His breakfast, lunch and dinner were all cooked by his mother. Guy also recollected a few pleasant memories of him and his mother working together in the kitchen. All though Guy wasn't as gifted in the culinary arts, he was sufficiently skilful in handling the knife. So in the kitchen, by default, it was his responsibility to prepare and cut the vegetables and meat, while his mother handled the intricate stages.

Thus, Guy was faced with a dilemma as to his second choice of containers. Each held a meal from a different cuisine. There was Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Italian, English, Arabic, Mediterranean, and Mexican. Guy gulped down a mouthful of saliva. He was suddenly feeling gluttonous! He decided that he would finish all of them!

One after another, food entered and exited the microwave and travelled down Guy's gullet. Within the next hour, Guy had completely cleaned up all the containers. After shoving the last morsel of food into his mouth, Guy exhaled with satisfaction. After resting for a few minutes, he got up and started to wash the dishes. After placing them to dry, Guy walked up to his refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water.

However, when he opened the door, his eyes widened in shock.

"T-They're back?" The containers that he had just cleaned up had returned to their original places and were magically refilled with a new combination of food items!

Guy looked back at the drying rack and noticed that the containers he had placed there had gone too. "But how?" He muttered in disbelief.

It was at that moment that an epiphany struck him. For a brief moment, Guy had forgotten that he had even died and transmigrated. The feeling of home, the taste of his mother's food - Guy had become hypnotised by the sensory overload of familiarity.

"This isn't real!" Guy declared in part to affirm his conclusion and also to remind his subconscious. This place wasn't home, it was only a replica. Once this thought solidified in his mind, Guy started to notice the various peculiarities in his surroundings. First off, the time on the clock hanging above the television was acting weirdly. It would start spinning haphazardly one moment, and in another, it would just freeze. The pictures on the wall! Guy clearly remembered hanging a few frames around his home, however, they were now mysteriously gone. The only picture Guy saw was his family portrait.

Guy approached the shelf next to the television and picked up the palm-sized picture frame. In it, he could clearly see the seated figures of his parents, as well as his siblings flanking them from behind. However, the faces on the portrait were missing!

"What is this place?!" Guy blurted in confusion.

As Guy started to become more receptive to his surroundings, his surroundings in turn started to fluctuate and flicker.

"Is this an illusion?" Guy commented out loud.

(C.. .ou h.ar .e?) A recognisable voice pierced through the undulating scenery.

"Mast?"

(Hey! Can you hear me?) Mast repeated.

"Mast!" Guy called out. As he did so, the facade around him finally collapsed, dissipating into a white mist. After the fog settled, Guy found himself in a white, uniform, cubic room. At the centre of the room, was a cubic recession containing a perfectly flat reflective surface. The mist gradually thinned out and disappeared completely.

"How long was I out for?" Guy asked Mast. This time, an answer arrived, (A few minutes. What happened?)

"I don't know for sure. I think I was caught in some sort of an illusion."

(Your mind had turned completely dormant and inert for a moment there. You got me concerned for a second. Be careful,) Mast reminded.

Guy hummed to himself and cautiously approached the square recession at the centre of the room. By making a few mental connections, Guy could deduce that the reflective surface or pool was most likely his core. He had seen something similar when he entered Markus' core region the last time. However, he also remembered the danger Al had faced by carelessly messing around with it, so Guy kept himself on edge in case he needed to make a break for it.

As he approached it, Guy didn't notice anything suspicious or dangerous transpiring, everything was calm and peachy. The tranquillity persisted till Guy was right at the bank of the reflective pool.

Guy started to take long, measured breaths to calm himself. Although he recognised the possible threat, he was kind of suspicious about what lay within his core. He kneeled forward and stationed his arms firmly near the bank, and leaned closer. As his face drew near the pool's surface, Guy was hit with another shocking revelation.

"M-My face!" The reflection on the pool wasn't of Guy's current face, that is the face of the body he was currently inhabiting. No! It was his face from his past life.

Guy moved his hands around his face, he pulled and pinched his cheeks, he opened and closed his mouth, he even grasped and yanked his hair. Whatever he did to his body, the reflection repeated down to the minute details. Guy was once again washed over by a nostalgic feeling. He really missed his old face. Compared to his current one it was vastly superior! Guy suspected that he could have easily achieved greater success in this life if only he had his previous, impeccably chiselled face.

Guy exhaled and revealed a bitter smile. He really wanted to admire his face for a bit longer, however, his curiosity was killing him!

He brought his fingers towards the surface of the unwavering pool - so did his reflection. Right as their fingers touched each other, Guy suddenly felt a light opposition. Guy frowned slightly and started to push harder by a small percentage. Right as he did so, his fingers slid through, cutting through the surface tension. Interestingly, his intrusion didn't cause even a ripple. The hand moved through as if it were passing through a permeable film.

After leaving his had submerged into the pool for a while, Guy pulled it out and inspected it thoroughly. Only after making sure that nothing had gone awry, did he slightly let down his guard.

"Seems as though it's safe enough," Guy concluded.

Next, Guy decided to peek in only with his head. Although his entire body could be submerged into the pool, he wanted to maintain his alertness.

After taking a deep breath, Guy sank his head into the pool.

Without a splash, his face dipped through the filmlike surface and peeked out the other side. Guy had subconsciously closed his eyes during this process, after all, it was a natural human reaction. Upon detecting that he had passed through, he slowly peeled open his eyes.

Just as they gained clarity, Guy quickly rubbed them again to do a double-take. This was because what lay before him, was not at all foreign to him. In fact, he had been in this place a few times already, albeit in a "different frame of mind".

Guy's mouth sprang agape as he absorbed his surroundings once again.

"It's The Church!" He exclaimed.