[You have died.]
"..."
That simple crimson panel lingered before Sam’s eyes like a slap in the face—cold, final, and far too familiar.
With a deep breath, he slowly reached up and removed the VR headset resting atop his head.
His fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the barely restrained frustration clawing at his chest.
There was a burning urge to toss the cursed device across the room, to finally give in to the anger bubbling inside him.
But he didn’t. Not this ti.
So instead, he placed the device beside him on the couch with a quiet, almost reverent care.
His body slumped forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, hands hanging loosely between them as he stared blankly at the floor.
It was the sa position he took every ti this happened. A position of quiet defeat.
This was becoming a routine.
His na was Sam Walker. Twenty-five years old. An accountant by trade.
A man with no girlfriend, no friends to speak of, and no family either.
A dull, predictable existence wrapped in an even duller routine: office, ho, eat, sleep, repeat.
There were no grand ambitions in his life, no great achievents, no goals to chase.
But he was surviving. That was what mattered... at least, it used to be.
He could’ve even called himself content, in a way.
Not happy, exactly, but stable. Then that ga ca into his life and threw everything out of balance: [Forsakened].
It was more than a ga. It was a phenonon.
A VRMMORPG so realistic, so imrsive, that it practically consud the world’s attention overnight.
Its chanics were revolutionary, its visuals breathtaking, and its storytelling so vivid it made other gas look like clumsy prototypes by comparison.
Everyone was talking about it.
The world within Forsakened was rich, built with care and staggering detail.
Every character, every region, every monster felt like it belonged.
The ga offered a grand narrative, a protagonist you shaped yourself, and a dozen potential heroines to walk beside you on your journey.
It promised glory, power, and imrsion on a scale no one had ever seen.
It sounded perfect. And maybe it was... for everyone else.
But there was one detail that turned Sam’s life into a never-ending cycle of pain: the difficulty setting.
When you first started [Forsakened], the ga asked you to choose a difficulty, just like any RPG would. There were five options presented before you in glowing, stylized letters:
[Easy] [Normal] [Hard] [Nightmare] [Hell]
Sam hadn’t even hesitated.
He chose Hell. Of course, he did.
The mont he saw that option, he tapped it.
That was the start of everything.
In Hell difficulty, the ga beca sothing else entirely.
Every monster, even the ones encountered in the opening minutes, were lethal.
So of them could kill you in a single hit.
Others weren’t even ant to be fought at low levels, and yet Hell made sure they wandered freely, uncaring of your presence or your preparation.
The world of Forsakened was set in a universe where another dinsion, the [Forsaken] Realm, had collided with Earth decades ago.
This collision rged the two realities, bringing chaos, magic, and new systems into a once mundane world.
Sam had played for three long, miserable months.
He poured dozens of hours into the ga, studying chanics, optimizing every stat point, trying new strategies.
He watched guides, read forums, and still... he had not reached the second layer.
According to what others said—those playing on more reasonable difficulties, as everybody else had given up on [Hell] mode—the first layer of the [Forsaken] realm was just the tutorial.
The real ga began after that.
Sam didn’t even know what happened afterward either since he didn’t want to spoil himself!
That was a sick joke to him.
He had died. Not just once. Not just a dozen tis. He had died over a thousand tis.
And each death was painful in its own way.
Sotis it ca from a surprise ambush, other tis from making one wrong move.
There was never rcy. Never a break. Only the red panel.
[You have died.]
Over and over and over again.
And yet, despite everything, Sam kept coming back.
"This ga is so fucking garbage," he groaned, "And why is the protagonist so... weak compared to everything else in hell difficulty?!"
He didn’t even understand why he kept playing anymore. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was pride.
Or maybe... there was sothing about the ga that called to him on a deeper level.
"I’ll try one more ti," he muttered, exhaling slowly, "Then I’m dropping a one-star review on this shit."
He reached for the VR headset once more, prepared to throw himself back into the grind.
But just as his fingers brushed the device—
Fwish!
A sound like tearing wind swept through the apartnt.
BOOM!
All the lights in the room suddenly died.
The gentle hum of electronics vanished in an instant, replaced by an unnatural silence.
Sam blinked and looked around in confusion. Everything was dark. Not just the room, but everything.
The air itself seed to grow heavier, darker.
A creeping shadow swallowed everything, and in seconds, he couldn’t even see the couch beneath him.
"What the hell...?"
He looked down to where the headset had been—and froze. It was gone.
And now, floating in the abyss, was a glowing panel. But it wasn’t crimson this ti. It was blue.
[Oh? You think you could do better?]
[Please select your difficulty. Choose very carefully, as it will determine everything.]
[Easy] [Normal] [Hard] [Nightmare] [Hell]
"What kind of...?" Sam whispered, staring at the choices.
This wasn’t the ga nu. This wasn’t even IN the ga. This felt... real. Too real.
And yet, even in this surreal mont, his instincts kicked in. He barely even hesitated.
"I an... like always, duh."
His finger reached out and tapped [Hell], just like he always did.
But this ti, sothing was different.
The panel pulsed and another ssage appeared.
[Are you... sure? It is not advised. You’re going to regret that.]
Sam rolled his eyes, "I already said to do it."
He was sick of warnings. Sick of being told he couldn’t handle it. If this was so weird dream, he didn’t care.
If this was the ga ssing with his mind, so be it. He just wanted to dive back in and prove himself.
Ding!
[Very well. You have selected "Hell" as the difficulty.]
Sam narrowed his eyes. He was about to scoff when suddenly... Pain.
It struck him all at once.
A sharp, blinding headache crashed through his skull like a sledgehamr.
His hands shot up to clutch the sides of his head, fingers digging into his temples as he groaned.
Sweat poured down his face. His pupils shrank, flickering rapidly as if sothing was breaking inside.
"What... the... fuck...!" he gasped, barely able to form words.
It felt like his mind was being torn in half, shattered and rewired by a force far beyond his understanding.
Every thought slipped through his grasp, every breath beca a struggle.
He reached out, trying to grab the panel, to touch sothing, anything that could bring him back.
But his fingers passed through it like mist.
There was no going back.
His knees buckled. His vision blurred. The world spun wildly around him.
And then—Darkness.
He collapsed. His consciousness slipped away like a leaf caught in a storm.
And sowhere in that silent abyss, sothing began.
Ding!
[Sam Walker has been reborn as a Primordial.]
[Difficulty Chosen: Hell.]
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