Beneath Golden Eyes

Sometimes I remember... the moment I first realized: I like being a Villain. Not on a childish whim. Not because of the mask or the masquerade. I genuinely enjoyed being feared. Being the shadow that ruins plans, topples rules, shatters stability.

I was only seventeen. Just a boy.

And now, years later, it almost makes me laugh. Embarrassing, really. Like remembering your first love. That thrill, that rush in your veins when you're alone against dozens—and still winning. Not because of strength. Not because of genius. Just because of Chaos.

Even now, when I recall that day, that feeling... I wonder: was I truly happy then?

No matter how cold, calculating, or mature I tried to appear—inside, I was still a teenager thrilled by the fear in others' eyes. I liked the whispers behind my back. That my nickname, Eleutheria, had become both a curse and a myth.

---

Eleutheria.

A game no one knew at the time. Not because it was bad, but because it was new. In a world where VR giants ruled with billions in funding, where flagships had split the market, new entries stood no chance.

If someone had asked me then, "Why did you decide to play it?" — I would have lied. "I like hidden gems," I would've said. "I was drawn by the philosophy of the name."

But the truth?

I had no choice.

Even now, years later, it's embarrassing to admit.

All my accounts in the three biggest VR games were permanently banned. No chance for recovery. No appeals. Just gone.

Why? Because I was the leader of the Cult of Chaos in all three. And when your actions begin to interfere with corporations, investors, and powerful families... well, they tend to retaliate.

My name made it to the blacklists. Not just among players, but among executives. Because someone lost money. Someone lost reputation. Someone lost control.

I tried to create new accounts, of course. But modern capsules weren't that easy to fool.

They had a strict rule: one account per device.

And the capsule? It's personal. Custom-made. It recognizes your neural patterns, heartbeat, reaction to stress. It knows you. Every breath, every twitch.

So making a "new self" was impossible.

There was only one path left: buy a new capsule.

The most expensive kind. Custom-built, manually assembled. It was supposed to arrive in a week.

And waiting a whole week without diving into VR? Torture.

So I started looking around. Just to kill time. Scrolling through new releases. Forgotten platforms. And somehow—pure coincidence, no doubt—I found Eleutheria.

It was launch day. That very night. A tiny studio. An unknown name. No advertising. No banners. Just a logo, a simple description, and a strange feeling.

Something pulled me in.

Fate? Coincidence? Or... a second chance?

---

POV: 3.5 years ago.

"Mmm... again with the delays? Why are they so slow? This is a world where skyscrapers go up in a day..."

Waiting for the capsule to arrive or finding something to play for a week?

I began scanning the VR releases.

"Terrible graphics... boring... this one's for kids... no online features... what is this trash?"

"Did no one try to make a decent game after God of War, Dragon Nation, or World of Dark Times?"

Then I saw it.

"Oh? Interesting..."

I leaned in closer. Couldn't believe what I saw.

Eleutheria? My own nickname? A joke?

I clicked on the title. A simple description popped up:

> Eleutheria. The world that hides behind the name of freedom. But is it truly freedom? Race against race. Magic versus sword. Lies against hope. Faith against power. Nothing is guaranteed here. Can you become someone? Or will you vanish like the rest?

"Solo game? No, wait... both single-player and online? Are they connected somehow?"

Only 300,000 Synapse Link neurochips sold. Weak, compared to the ten million from the big three. But expected.

"Well... let's see what you can do."

I clicked the order button.

"Amalia, the game should arrive in 15 minutes. Bring it to me when it does."

"Understood, Master Akashi," the maid answered softly. Calm, cold, professional. Dutiful, as always.

---

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the knock.

"Come in," I said.

My younger sister, Illysia, entered.

Wearing black pajamas, holding her laptop and phone, she looked as radiant as ever—quiet, calm, almost fragile.

"Akashi, can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked. But it wasn't really a question.

Since that tragedy 14 years ago, she'd been clingy. Always near me. Always watching. Always following.

I understood. Deep down, she was afraid.

And maybe... so was I.

In Eleutheria, they even called her the "Bride of Chaos." Her nickname? Eudaimonia. It means "happiness" in ancient Greek. She only chose it because it resembled mine.

I got up. She approached without hesitation and hugged me tightly.

Not dramatic. Just firm.

She buried her face in my chest and stood like that.

It was her way of saying: "Don't go too far."

I patted her back.

"Stay here. Just don't snore."

"I don't snore," she muttered, settling near my bed.

"I'm going to play Eleutheria," I said, opening the capsule.

She gave me a look. A little offended.

"Don't play too long."

"An hour. No more."

I laid down. Hit the button. The lid slid shut. Lights faded. Reality disappeared.

---

Darkness. Then light.

The interface booted. Game selection. I picked Eleutheria.

Falling.

Then, another interface. This one from inside the game.

Two modes: [Omniwave] — Multiplayer. [Freefall] — Single player.

I picked Freefall.

Suddenly, I was in bed. My in-game house. Wooden walls. A fireplace. Rustic furniture. Quiet.

No palace. No fortress. Just an ordinary home.

I came here not for glory, but to see how this world lives. To be a commoner. To breathe as they breathe.

Even if it was primitive. Even if it lacked magic or status.

I wanted to be nobody.

. .. ...

But I didn't manage to be nobody.

Why? Because of my appearance. I didn't change it.

And because of the game.

Turns out, the plot in Eleutheria evolves without the player. Whether you act or not, the world moves forward. NPCs have lives. They build. Betray. Fall in love. War. Trade. Scheme.

Yes, there's a main plotline—a global direction that unites everyone. But beyond that? Everything depends on individual choices and system algorithms.

And me? I stood out.

Because I'm handsome. Not bragging. Just fact.

Too much attention. Even from NPCs.

And one day, while buying vegetables in the market, I was kidnapped.

By slavers.

NPC slavers.

They threw a bag over my head, tied me up, cast a sleep spell, and stuffed me into a cart.

No event. No quest. Just system-triggered randomness.

They made a mistake, though.

I escaped two hours later. Tied up their guards, picked the lock with a spoon, and slipped out the back window.

Classic.

Still, I was stunned. A player? Sold into slavery?

Too real.

I grabbed a plate of leftovers from my fridge-equivalent, ate quickly, and stepped outside.

Cloudy skies. Almost raining.

I was in the Kingdom of Rhine. Known for wine, knights, and endless rain.

And I wasn't just anyone here.

I was a 7th-rank Knight.

One of the strongest.

An independent knight. Serving no one.

Only the Archmage outranked me. 8th rank. Royal court.

Now, about the system.

Everyone in this world has an interface. Stats. Skills. Trees. Except inventory. Strangely, it doesn't exist here. Not even for players.

Interfaces are private. Only visible if shared. Skills exist to scan or conceal.

There are two skill types:

1. System-generated (preset spells like Fireball).

2. Custom (magic you create).

System skills are stable, limited. Fixed mana, fixed effect.

Custom spells depend on knowledge, control, structure. More mana = potentially stronger.

But also more dangerous.

Legendary skills exist too. Like Eight-Second Immortality. Just what it sounds like.

Simple. Deep. Logical. Dangerous.

I approached my stable.

Then the world tilted.

Spinning. Ringing in my ears.

I reached for the door—but my legs gave out.

And then—

Darkness.

My mind shut down.