The moment Eric stepped fully into the house, he was engulfed in a hug so tight it nearly knocked the breath right out of him.
His mother clung to him with a desperation that spoke volumes—her arms wrapping around him like she was afraid the universe might snatch him away again at any second.
He could feel her body trembling slightly against his, the kind of raw emotion that no amount of System power or shadow magic could fully prepare him for.
She didn’t say anything at first.
No questions, no scolding, no demands for explanations.
She just held him tight, face buried in his shoulder, as if memorizing the feeling of having her son back where he belonged.
Minutes ticked by.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
The hug stretched on for at least half an hour, warm and unbreakable.
Eric, touched beyond words, eventually started wondering if he should gently pry himself free before his ribs filed a complaint.
But he stayed put, patting her back awkwardly with one hand while a soft, genuine smile crept onto his face.
After a brutal year of fighting for survival, this simple human contact felt like the best reward imaginable.
Finally, his mother pulled away, wiping the last traces of tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Her expression, which had been a mix of overwhelming relief and lingering sorrow just moments ago, shifted so drastically it was almost comical.
The tears vanished, replaced by sparkling curiosity that lit up her entire face like a kid discovering a new video game.
“So…” she leaned forward on the couch, eyes wide and eager, “what did you do in that world?”
The sudden emotional whiplash was so intense Eric had to blink twice just to catch up.
One second she was hugging him like he’d returned from the dead, the next she was dragging him over to the couch, practically shoving him into the cushions before plopping down right beside him.
Her gaze locked onto his like a laser, demanding the full story right then and there.
Eric let out a long, theatrical sigh, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
“Alright, alright.
I’ll tell you everything.
Buckle up, Mom—this one’s a ride.”
He launched into the tale, painting a vivid picture of his adventures in the Solo Leveling world.
Of course, he skipped the part about originally not belonging there at all.
Instead, he slipped seamlessly into Sung Jin-Woo’s shoes, making himself the undeniable protagonist of the story.
He described the Double Dungeon Incident in dramatic detail—the sudden shift from normal life to absolute chaos, the awakening of his powers, the brutal battles against horrifying monsters, and the epic rise of his Shadow Army that turned the tide of impossible wars.
His mother hung on every word, her face cycling through a full rollercoaster of emotions: wide-eyed shock at the dungeon horrors, awe at the power-ups, breathless excitement during the big fights, and even a few gasps of panic when he described the truly dangerous moments against the Monarchs.
Several times she looked like she might actually pass out from sheer hype, fanning herself dramatically with one hand while leaning in closer.
“It’s like a dream!” she muttered at one point, eyes shining with pure delight.
“My son, out there saving entire worlds like some action movie hero.
I’m basically the mother of the main character!”
Eric kept the story flowing with just enough flair to keep her hooked, borrowing some of Sung Jin-Woo’s coolest, most badass moments and weaving them into his own narrative.
He wasn’t about to admit that a lot of his early fights had been calculated and cautious—he’d used his foreknowledge to outmaneuver enemies smartly rather than charging in fists-first.
She loved dramatic, high-energy action.
If he told her the full truth about playing it safe, she’d probably hit him with another slipper while yelling something like, “What kind of main character uses their brain instead of their fists?!”
So yeah, he borrowed the cool bits.
He’d already taken the guy’s power—borrowing a few heroic highlights for storytelling purposes wouldn’t hurt anyone.
It was all about looking awesome in front of his mom.
No way was he letting her think her son was some “unmanly coward who overanalyzed everything instead of taking action.” In her book, true heroes didn’t hesitate—they punched first and asked questions later.
As he wrapped up the highlights, his mother was practically glowing.
The shift in her mood was night and day from the exhausted, worried woman who’d opened the door earlier.
This was the real her—the adventure-loving rebel who lived for excitement.
“You know,” she started, leaning back with a proud grin, “I always wanted to be the main character of my own story.”
Eric internally sighed.
Here we go…
“But!” she added, puffing out her chest dramatically, “since it’s my son’s story, I’ll reluctantly accept being the second main character instead!”
Eric rubbed his temples, fighting back a laugh.
“That’s… not exactly how it works, Mom.
But sure, you can be the ultimate support character.
The one who grounds the hero with instant noodle threats.”
Seeing her grinning from ear to ear, completely lost in her own fantasies of epic family sagas and multiversal glory, Eric could only sigh helplessly.
He knew exactly why she was reacting like this.
His mom had always been a rebel at heart, chasing thrills and rejecting the boring path.
She wasn’t built for a quiet, peaceful life.
That’s why, when her wealthy family tried to arrange a “perfect” future for her—rich husband, fancy lifestyle, the whole deal—she ran away at eighteen.
She fell hard for a poor guy who happened to be battling cancer, and when her family forbade the relationship, she eloped with him anyway, ditching luxury for something far more exciting and unpredictable.
With a background like that, her hyped-up reaction to his story made total sense.
If anything, Eric had expected it.
She lived for this kind of chaos.
Just as he was about to crack another light joke to keep the mood going, Eric’s senses suddenly flared.
His perception picked up an intruder—someone had entered his room through a portal.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his shadow twitched beneath him, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
He didn’t need eyes to identify the visitor.
Based on the timing and the subtle mystical signature, there was a ninety percent chance it was the Ancient One.
The remaining ten percent?
Could be something like the TVA showing up to prune him for timeline nonsense.
After all, he wasn’t exactly supposed to exist in this flow of events.
But strangely, they’d never appeared, even after he regained his past-life memories.
That useless thing had just replied in its monotone voice, “I don’t know anything outside of traveling to other worlds.” Super helpful.
Seeing Tony Stark earlier had confirmed this was the movie-verse timeline, which only deepened the mystery.
Why no TVA?
Eric had his suspicions, but he’d need more time to dig into that.
Not that he was scared of them now—far from it.
For the moment, though, he set the puzzle aside.
“Mom,” Eric said suddenly, snapping her out of her daydream with a gentle nudge.
“I need to introduce you to someone.”
“Huh?” She tilted her head, curiosity sparking again.
Eric’s shadow expanded dramatically beneath him on the living room floor.
It writhed and twisted like liquid night, taking on a distinct humanoid shape.
In mere moments, a tall, insectoid knight emerged from the darkness with eerie grace.
Standing before them was Berru—his most trusted shadow soldier.
Not that he didn’t trust Igris or Bellion, but Berru felt special.
He was one Eric had personally created, not inherited from Ashborn, so there was a unique bond there.
This protective duty naturally fell to him.
Berru immediately knelt in perfect respect, his exoskeleton gleaming faintly under the room lights.
“My lord,” he spoke in that whispery, chilling voice, “what are your orders?”
Eric nodded casually, keeping things light.
“You’ll be looking after my mom when I’m not around.
If she needs anything, you take care of it.
Consider this your new important mission.”
He turned to his mom with a grin.
“This guy’s name is Berru.
He also likes to watch dramas like you, so I think you two will get along great.
Bonus points—he’s an excellent listener and doesn’t hog the remote.”
Berru bowed slightly, his towering insectoid form moving with surprising elegance despite the intimidating claws and ant-like head.
“It is an honor to meet my lord’s esteemed mother.”
Rebecca—who had just been fantasizing about grand multiversal adventures starring her son—suddenly found herself face-to-face with a real-life shadow creature straight out of a dark fantasy.
For a split second, the room went quiet.
Her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered delight.
She took one long look at Berru’s formidable, almost monstrous appearance—the long claws, the sleek exoskeleton, the eerie presence—and then, in the most childishly excited tone possible, she grinned wide enough to light up the whole block.
She almost shouted it at the top of her lungs.
“…Cool.”
How about it?