Eternal Art Online

Rain hammered against the glass towers of City S, warping the neon glow into watery smears. But in another world, fire reigned eternal.

Molten rock churned in the immense cavern, a deep-throated roar vibrating through the superheated air that twisted everything in sight.

Towering twenty meters above the seething lava pool stood the Stone-clad Colossus – a living volcano of rage and rock, a field boss notorious for requiring twenty coordinated players even to attempt.

Its colossal fist, veined with molten gold, swung down with a force that could crumple steel, aimed at the single, insignificant black speck at its feet.

Kiriya Noir moved, not by keyboard command, but by raw nerve impulse firing muscle. His left foot slammed against a chunk of obsidian upheaved by the shockwave, propelling him upwards.

The deep black trench coat he wore billowed open like the dying wings of a crow in the scorching updraft.

The unadorned longsword in his hand, "Darkgnaw," felt alive. Its tip traced a cold, lethally efficient arc, biting precisely into the minute fissure where the Colossus's wrist armor met – the weakest point.

*Scrreee—CRACK!*

The grating shriek of metal on stone and the deep groan of fracturing rock merged. The Colossus's devastating momentum hitched, arrested for a single, impossible instant.

Kiriya twisted his body mid-air, core muscles screaming, narrowly avoiding the killing backhand swipe that followed.

Blistering heat seared the sweat-damp black hair plastered to his forehead, revealing eyes beneath – black pupils holding no fear, no exhilaration, only glacial focus and a near-instinctive hunger for the edge. He was dancing with death.

"ROOOAAARR—!!!" The furnace core in the Colossus's chest detonated with the blinding fury of a dying star.

An instant later, a barrage of burning, house-sized boulders erupted like enraged hornets! A lethal hail of fire engulfed the cavern.

In the distant safe zone, players who'd come expecting schadenfreude stood dumbstruck. The lava's glow painted their faces with shock.

"Holy shit… how did he—?"

"Prediction? That wasn't fucking prediction!"

"That sword! 'Darkgnaw'! The lone wolf! Kiriya!"

The public channel ignited. 'Kiriya' – In the few months since Eternal Art Online (EAO) launched, the name had become synonymous with 'impossible'.

No one knew the man behind it, only the light-devouring black attire and the terrifying efficiency beneath the ID.

Amidst the firestorm, the black figure was a ghostly flicker. Every evasion slotted perfectly into the gaps between attacks.

Every swing of "Darkgnaw" was brutally efficient, aimed at the finest cracks in the stone armor.

No flashy skill effects, just primal, deadly strikes, each landing with the crunch of sundered rock. Sweat vaporized instantly.

Muscles screamed under the neural onslaught. The world narrowed: the titan, the cold steel in his grip, the burning instinct for combat.

Finally, as "Darkgnaw," channeling every ounce of his being, became a bolt of black lightning driven straight into the Colossus's madly pulsing core—

*KABOOOOOM!!!!*

The earth convulsed. The Colossus froze. Its core flashed crimson, collapsed inward, then detonated! Blinding white light consumed everything.

A shockwave of superheated rock and lava surged outward like a tsunami. Players at the safe zone's edge were hurled like leaves, shield gauges plummeting violently.

The light faded. Dust hung thick as fog.

The Colossus's immense form, bereft of support, toppled. It shattered into countless burning monoliths that crashed into the boiling lava, geysers of fire erupting skyward. The entire cavern groaned and shuddered.

[System Alert (Zone):

Player Kiriya has achieved First Kill on Stone Clad Colossus (Lv. 45 World Boss)! Awarded Title: Earthshaker! Awarded Items: Molten Core (Legendary Material), Heart of the Colossus (Epic), Gold x 5000] 

Golden text seared itself into the vision of every player in the zone.

The channel exploded.

"S-solo Kill?! Fucking hell!!"

"Earthshaker! That title… damn!"

"Molten Core?! Legendary! He's made it!"

"Kiriya! Daddy! Add me! Please, take me into your guild!!"

"Kiriya~ Please take me with you! I can heal, I'm cute, and I'll behave~♡"

A tidal wave of awe, envy, and sycophancy flooded the channel. In the lava's hellish glow, Kiriya stood on the edge of the wreckage.

His black coat was smeared with ash and scorch marks. Sweat-slick strands of black hair clung to his temples, partially obscuring the crimson eyes.

His chest rose and fell slightly; the neural pathways felt like they'd been sandpapered raw by that final, transcendent effort.

He gave "Darkgnaw" a casual flick, as if dislodging dust. Ignoring the burning stares and the channel's frenzy, his gaze fixed on the item in his inventory: the [Molten Core], radiating palpable heat.

"Molten Core…" His voice was hoarse from exertion, yet unnervingly calm, like discussing dinner. "Cloak material… done." A finger tapped the air, storing the legendary item. The gleaming gold "Earthshaker" title emblem? He didn't even glance at it. Glory? Bullshit.

The surrounding clamor felt muffled, distant. He turned, black boots crunching on the scorched, fissured ground, heading for the cavern exit.

The crowd parted instinctively, gazes glued to the retreating figure, unnervingly composed in his darkness, until he vanished into the light-devouring gloom of the tunnel leading back to the upper mines.

...

Consciousness felt dredged from boiling oil and plunged into ice water.

Kiriya opened his eyes to the familiar, water-stained ceiling of his rented room. Outside, City S's night rain still fell, a steady, dreary percussion against the windowpane – a dull counterpoint to the cavern's dying roars.

He peeled off the sleek "Mind Gear" neural interface helmet. The cold residue of the conductive gel clung to his skin, slick and unpleasant like deep-sea slime.

The room was small, smelling of stale instant coffee grounds, old sweat, and damp wood. Model katanas hung on the wall.

Dusty dumbbells lay piled in a corner. Programming manuals, spines cracked, lay open on a desk beside a monitor glowing with indecipherable code.

This was his shell. Kirigaya Kai, twenty years old, holed up in a cheap pigeon-coop wedged into the city's concrete bones.

He pushed himself up, every joint aching with post-battle hollowness and fatigue. At the window, rain streaked the glass, warping the neon outside into smears of cold, distant color.

The wet street below reflected the sickly yellow of streetlights, a filthy slick of oil. Occasionally, a hovercar slid past like a phantom, headlights cutting brief scars through the downpour.

The city's massive skeleton loomed in the rainy dark, exuding a weight, a gritty, metallic reality that no virtual world could ever replicate.

He rolled his stiff neck; vertebrae popped. The embers of the fight still crackled along his nerves, but physical exhaustion wrapped him like a sodden blanket.

He grabbed the mug of cold instant coffee on the desk, took a large gulp. The cheap bitterness exploded on his tongue, a weak counter to the fog.

As he reached to close the window, the ancient floating-screen TV in the corner flickered to life on its own. Through the static hiss, a late-night news anchor droned with robotic disinterest:

"...Aether Corporation reiterates that 'Mind Gear' neural-link technology is safe and reliable, passing all international certifications.

Regarding reported instances of 'consciousness residue' by some users, expert analysis attributes this to normal psychophysiological responses following deep immersion..."

*Aether.* Architects of EAO. Creators of the Mind Gear. The tech was undeniable, but corporate assurances... Kiriya's lips twisted in a silent, cynical sneer. *Yeah, right.*

He nudged the TV's sensor panel with his bare toe. The screen died, leaving only the monotonous drumming of rain against the glass.

A hollow pang cramped his stomach. Right. The Black Reaper still bent his knee to instant noodles. Gods could fall to his sword online, but reality demanded cheap sustenance.

He grabbed the faded black hoodie slung over the chairback, yanked it on, zipping it halfway up over a worn grey t-shirt. Keys jingled, cold and hard, in his pocket. No umbrella. He pulled open the apartment door.

The corridor sensor light buzzed on, casting a feeble yellow glow on peeling paint and dusty linoleum.

The unique stench of old apartment buildings – disinfectant, mildew, and the ghosts of a thousand meals – hit him. He navigated the narrow hallway, pushed open the heavy, rust-stained main door.

A gust of wind, thick with the smell of wet pavement and decay, slammed into him, making him shiver.

The rain was heavier than it sounded indoors, icy drops instantly soaking his hair and shoulders.

He pulled the hood up, hunching slightly, and stepped into the deeper darkness of the apartment building's rain-lashed back alley.

The alley was a claustrophobic trench, walls lined with overflowing dumpsters reeking of rot and piled with slick, black garbage bags. Only a single, dying bulb at the far end cast a sickly puddle of light on the wet concrete.

He moved quickly, boots splashing through puddles he knew by heart. This shortcut, he could walk blindfolded.

Just steps from the alley mouth, the rhythmic hiss of rain was shattered.

"Ugh—!"

A choked gasp, thick with pain. Then the scuffle of heavy boots on wet pavement, and a man's voice, low, vicious, cutting through the downpour:

"Shut it! Move, bitch, or I snap your legs!"

Kiriya froze, every muscle locking. He pivoted sideways, melting into the deep shadow cast by a teetering stack of discarded plastic crates. Only his eyes remained visible, pupils contracting in the gloom, a flicker of crimson deep within.

At the alley's mouth, on the ragged edge of the streetlamp's pallid glow.

Two men, bulky in dark rain jackets, were manhandling a slender figure.

She wore a thin white dress, rendered shapeless and grey by rain and grime, plastered wetly to a frame that seemed painfully young and fragile.

Long, white hair, soaked and tangled like seaweed, covered most of her face, revealing only a chin so pale it seemed bloodless.

She hung limp, feet dragging uselessly on the slick ground as they hauled her forward like a sack.

"Stupid cunt! Run now!" one snarled, shoving her hard against the cold, rough brick wall. Her forehead struck the surface with a sickening thud, eliciting a sharp, agonized whimper.

"Shut your trap! Move! Boss is waiting!" the other snapped, head swiveling nervously, voice tight with tension. "This dump's too exposed!"

Cold rainwater traced a path down Kiriya's jaw from beneath his hood, dripping onto the filthy water at his feet.

He was stone in the shadow. Only his eyes, unnervingly sharp in the dark, tracked the scene.

They were dragging her away from the meager light, towards a side alley even narrower, blacker, like the gullet of some great beast.

As her form was about to be swallowed completely by that deeper darkness—

The girl, hauled like refuse, suddenly wrenched her head up!

The wet, white hair whipped back, revealing a face startlingly young yet utterly devoid of life. The feeble streetlamp caught her eye—

Eyes the color of clotted blood. Pure. Unnaturally, terrifyingly red.

Those burning crimson orbs, in the desolate, rain-soaked night, pierced through the downpour, through the suffocating gloom, and locked unerringly onto Kiriya's own crimson-tinged eyes, hidden deep within the crate shadow!

Time stopped.

Kiriya's heart clenched as if seized by an icy iron fist, then released. Her gaze held no plea, no terror.

Only a terrifying emptiness, a soul scraped hollow, clinging to the very edge of oblivion, and the faintest, dying spark of defiance.

Then, her colorless lips moved. The faintest whisper, almost devoured by the rain, yet it struck Kiriya's eardrum like a poisoned icicle:

"...H...help..."

The word was a ghost of sound, carrying the weight of a shattered soul.

Simultaneously, one of the men holding her snapped his head around. His gaze, predatory and sharp as a raptor's, scanned the darkness, landing with lethal intent precisely on Kiriya's shadowed hiding place!

Rainwater streamed down Kiriya's taut jawline. The air at the alley mouth crackled, thick with impending violence.