Player From Another World

In-Game – Void Arena

The countdown began.

Cold. Relentless. Unforgiving.

— System Voice: "5 minutes and 15 seconds remaining before Wipe."

The Void Arena stretched before them, a cold expanse of nothingness, where reality itself seemed to bend, suffocating in its own entropy. William and his companions stood in perfect stillness, their bodies tense, hearts thundering in their chests. The air was thick, oppressive—a slow, suffocating pulse that seemed to echo the dying beat of a long-forgotten heart. Each second dragged on, drawn out like a blade cutting through time itself.

The sky above them splintered, jagged shards of blackened energy tearing through the space between them. It wasn't just a fracture; it was a wound, a rift that bled darkness and corruption, twisting the very light that dared to touch it. Far above, the Nexus vortex opened its mouth, an endless, gaping maw that swallowed everything. The world trembled, groaning beneath the weight of its own doom. It was the prelude to oblivion.

Distant rumblings split the silence—thunderous booms like chains snapping, heralding the coming storm.

Specters emerged.

Shapes dragged from the abyss, grotesque and faceless, their movements a distorted ballet of horror, a dance of raw terror and death. Their bodies were woven from the darkness itself, fangs like daggers glinting in the fractured light. Their eyes—if they had any—glowed with a hollow hunger, as if the very concept of life was foreign to them.

Beside William, Iris hovered like a fading star in the storm. She pulsed with weak light, her flickers growing erratic as the world around them warped. The struggle for control was palpable.

— Iris (calm, analytical): "Master Cheezy, the survival trial has three ranks."

The words materialized in the empty space before him:

Gold: Survive under 3 minutes.Silver: Survive under 4 minutes.Bronze: Survive 5 minutes or more.

— William (calm, but his voice a whisper of steel): "Three minutes. That's all we need."

There was no hesitation, no moment of doubt.

His instincts, honed from years of battle and the game's mechanics, surged within him like an unstoppable current. Schema 23 pulsed in his veins—cold, calculating, a relentless drive toward victory. Time itself bent to his will. The others beside him—Stryker, Maho, Loanna, Pharmacie—shared the unspoken knowledge: this fight would shape their destinies. And yet, beneath their hardened exteriors, a shadow of fear flickered in their eyes, a dread that refused to be ignored.

— Iris (to the group, her voice a heartbeat in the chaos): "Combat begins in 7 seconds."

The world contracted, the air crackling as if reality itself was holding its breath.

6…

The air grew thick with heat, as though the sun had bent down to scorch them all.

5…

An icy chill rushed over them, freezing their very bones, the weight of the world pressing down like a suffocating hand.

4…

A black mist began to unfurl, devouring the light, the shadows reaching out to smother everything in sight. The earth trembled beneath them, the ground cracking like glass.

3…

The shift was sudden. The specters emerged fully, massive forms, their features barely visible in the swirling darkness. No faces. No names. Only the void manifest.

2…

A dull, gnashing sound—a chip bag tearing. Jeanmouloude, as casual as ever, took a loud bite of his chips.

1…

— System Voice: "5 minutes remaining before Wipe."

The world held its breath, suspended in the final seconds of an irreversible fate.

Kael'Thir Awakens.

The beast's roar shattered the silence like a thunderclap, its massive form cutting through the fractured sky. His blade swung, carving the air with such force that it sent tremors through the ground. The arena itself seemed to bow before him, the very earth groaning under the weight of his presence.

Specters surged, flooding toward them with unnatural speed, their wails echoing in unison. A cacophony of agony. Of death.

— Stryker (over raid chat, voice firm and urgent): "I've got your back!"

— Maho (breathless, her voice metallic through the comms): "Cheezy, right side!"

Adrenaline shot through William's veins. The world around him blurred, warping in time with his own movements. His senses sharpened, his thoughts slowing, and in that moment, his body became one with the game. He could feel it—the pulse of the code, the rhythm of the world that bent to his will.

Shadow Step.

A flicker in the dark.

A heartbeat.

And then, the abyss was his stage.

He appeared behind the closest specter, the very air around him humming with the power of his movement. His daggers flared, crackling with dark energy. He moved like a phantom, his strikes a blur of obsidian and violet light.

— William (voice low, a whisper of intent): "Lunar Dance, Rank 3: Purgatory."

His daggers became a storm, a rain of razors, each strike a deadly flash. Specters fell, torn asunder by his dance, their bodies consumed by dark flames that devoured their very essence. The world trembled under the weight of his assault, the darkness fighting back with a ferocity that matched his own.

But then—something snapped.

A pain unlike any other coursed through him. It was not of flesh, but of soul. It ripped through him, tearing at the very core of his being. His mind reeled, spinning in agony, as if his soul was being wrenched from his body, torn asunder by forces beyond his comprehension.

In the real world, his body trembled, every muscle convulsing as the machines blared in alarm.

Real World – Immersive Hospital

The cold, sterile air of the Brossard Medical Facility did nothing to ease the tension. The monitors screamed warnings, flashing red as William's heart faltered, skipping beats. The alarms shrieked in a frantic, panicked symphony.

Doctor (shouting, his voice filled with urgency): "Cardiac arrest! Get the defibrillator!"

Trainee Nurse (terrified, hands shaking): "That's the eighth one today, doctor!"

Doctor (commanding, his voice unwavering): "CHARGE 200 JOULES. READY!"

Nurse (struggling to keep composure): "READY!"

A blast of electricity seared through William's body. His chest heaved as the shock forced his heart back into rhythm. His muscles spasmed violently, his eyes rolling back, but the machines steadied. The beeping, once erratic, slowed to a fragile rhythm.

In-Game – Void Arena

Back in the Void Arena, Kael'Thir's roar was like a force of nature, his massive form shaking the very foundation of reality itself. The sky above warped, the world trembled as if it, too, feared its inevitable end.

But William—he was frozen, locked in an abyss of unending torment.

His vision warped. The world around him fractured, glitching, and shattering into fragments. Corrupted code flashed across his interface, drowning him in a flood of incomprehensible data. He could feel the shred—a violent rupture tearing through the fabric of time and space itself.

The fracture spread.

A ripple through the very core of existence, pulling everything into its void.

He was being consumed.