[Chapter 1: An Unexpected Event]
It was deep into the night, and the oppressive glow of the computer monitor was the only thing illuminating the cramped, cluttered room. Images flickered and strobed across the screen, casting harsh blue light over the face of an average-looking man in his early thirties. He was currently lost in a session of a run-of-the-mill RPG, his eyes tracking the movent of sprites with a practiced, chanical dullness.
Sitting in his worn-out chair, the listless expression on his face told a story that anyone could read: he wasn't exactly having fun, but he had nothing else to do. In fact, 'sitting' might have been a bit of a stretch at this point. It would be more accurate to say he was practically lting out of the seat, laying nearly flat underneath the edge of the table with his keyboard perched precariously on his lap. The ga he was playing had a decently sized community and an even larger following on social dia, the kind of title that lived and died by its updates.
The thing about this ga was that it was just another gacha for the most part—a colorful trap designed to drain bank accounts—but the people in the community were a decent sort. They weren't necessarily 'good' people in the traditional sense, but they were decent enough for his needs. The global chat window on the side of the screen was moving by so fast that most normal people would have been unable to read a single word of it. The text and emotes scrolled by in a vertical blur, a chaotic stream of consciousness from thousands of strangers.
One comnt in particular suddenly stood out, montarily breaking through the noise:
"Dude, did anyone see that boss in the new zone? It looks like sothing out of a Lovecraftian horror."
This single observation was imdiately followed by a flurry of others agreeing with it. So users were complaining about how quickly they had died to it, their characters deleted in seconds. Others were bragging about how they had managed to kill it through sheer luck or deep pockets. However, the only thing on the man's mind was his finances. He was calculating how he was going to scrape together enough money to buy the newest gacha banner.
The ga was the only thing keeping him going at this point. It was the only thing keeping him grounded, or perhaps, the only thing keeping him sane. The world outside of his room was little more than a blur to him; he didn’t know what was going on in the news, and he didn’t particularly care. All he wanted to do was play, pull for rare characters, and forget that the rest of the world existed.
He was so engrossed in the flashing lights of the interface that he didn’t notice the change at first. Then, the scrolling chat froze mid-emote. The animated characters on his screen locked into their final poses, mid-stride. It wasn't a typical ga crash or a blue screen. This was different. The cursor, which he had been hovering over the 'Purchase Premium Currency' button, refused to move an inch.
A profound, unnerving stillness descended. It wasn't just limited to the ga; it felt as though the very air in his cramped room had turned to lead. The hum of the computer’s cooling fans, the distant, muffled wail of a siren outside, and even the frantic, uneven beating of his own heart—all of it ceased. He tried to scream, to push himself away from the desk in a panic, but his limbs were like heavy stone statues.
Then ca the darkness. This was no re power outage. Even if the grid had failed, there would have been so ambient light filtering in from outside his window. But this was pure, absolute darkness. There was nothing. No light, no sound, no sensation.
A sickening lurch followed, the feeling of falling—or perhaps rising—he couldn't truly tell. It was a physical heave in what he thought was his stomach, but he quickly realized there was no stomach to feel it. There was no body at all. He was simply a floating consciousness, a disembodied point of awareness adrift in an endless, silent void. He tried to reach out, to feel for his hands, his face, or the familiar texture of his clothing, but there was only the horrifying emptiness of a formless existence.
Ti lost all aning in that place. A single second could have been an eternity, or an entire aeon might have passed in the blink of a non-existent eye. There was no up or down, no warmth or cold, just the profound, soul-crushing isolation of being utterly alone and completely unbound from the physical world he had always known.
Then, the light sound of a bell or a chi resonated through the void.
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The voice wasn't heard with his ears. Instead, it was felt directly in the core of his being—an intrusive, crystalline thought that was clearly not his own.
the voice continued, vibrating through his consciousness.
The man couldn't speak, so he directed his thoughts toward the source of the voice.
`Ahhh... can you hold on there for a minute? I feel very uncomfortable being spoken down to by a... feeling.`
The mont the thought left his mind, the void shifted. Suddenly, he was sitting in a chair. To be fair, it was not a comfortable chair—it was hard and utilitarian—but it was a chair nonetheless. Now possessed of a physical form again, he found himself sitting before a desk in the vast, empty nothingness.
A being with no features, looking like a smooth, faceless mannequin, sat behind the desk. The piece of furniture looked like the high-end executive types seen in movies, typically found in a CEO's office. There was no other furniture or decoration in the infinite space; just the desk, the chair, and the featureless entity. The surface of the desk was made of a polished, obsidian-like material, so dark it seed to drink the faint, sourceless light that perated the void.
The being's head tilted slightly to the side. It was a gesture so unnervingly human that it made the surrounding void feel even more alien.
"This is far more comfortable, but it’s not any less creepy," the man said aloud. His voice was working now that he had a body and a chair to sit in. "What exactly are you?"
The being across from him steepled its fingers. The motion was fluid but devoid of any real warmth or intent.
"Alright, so sothing is happening and I have to prepare for it... or what?" He felt like a fool for saying it, but he truly had no clue what was going on. He was just a normal guy who played gas to escape the mind-numbing reality of a life that felt like it was going nowhere.
the Guide replied. Its perfectly modulated voice began to grate on his nerves.
The mannequin-like figure leaned back slightly.
"Wait, what do you an ‘what my nascent understanding will initially classify as beasts’?" the man interrupted, his frustration bubbling up. "I am not an idiot, even if I am a nobody."
He had to stop for a mont after the words left his mouth. Realizing he had just insulted a cosmic entity that seemingly held all the cards was probably not the smartest idea he’d ever had.
the Guide continued, entirely unfazed by his tone.
The man rubbed his temples, trying to process the sheer scale of the absurdity. "So, in one week, my world is going to end as I know it and I need to beco strong... but I have a normal job that I need to go to tomorrow. So how am I supposed to do this... training?"
The sarcasm was thick in his voice, a defense chanism against the terrifying reality being presented to him.
the Guide stated flatly.
The man looked around the dark, infinite space, then back at the obsidian desk. "Several, to be honest... but none of them seem necessary right now. How will we go on from here?"
The Guide leaned forward slightly, its featureless face giving the eerie impression of intense, focused scrutiny.
The man stared at the mannequin, the weight of the 'choice' finally beginning to settle in his gut. One week. He had one week before the world turned into the very gas he used to play to escape.
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