The console's fan whirred loudly, like a jet engine on its last legs. Thomas—or Tom, as he preferred—sat hunched on the worn-out sofa in his small flat, gripping his controller with white-knuckled intensity. The room was dim, the only illumination coming from the pulsating glow of his television screen. He was in the middle of the climactic battle of God of War, his character, Kratos, locked in a desperate struggle against Zeus. Sweat trickled down his brow, his mind wholly absorbed in the moment.
"Come on," he muttered, his voice thick with concentration. His thumb mashed the buttons with precision born of countless hours of practice. He was almost there—victory was within reach.
And then it happened. The final blow landed. Zeus fell, and the screen erupted in a cinematic spectacle of chaos and triumph. Tom exhaled sharply, leaning back, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. But the moment was short-lived.
A sharp, high-pitched whine filled the room, and the console emitted a strange, acrid smell. Before he could react, there was a blinding flash of light, followed by an ear-splitting bang.
When Tom awoke, he wasn't in his flat anymore. The faint scent of wildflowers and earth filled his nose, and a soft breeze brushed against his skin. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the brightness. Above him stretched an impossibly blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming.
But the pain in his head felt all too real. Groaning, he sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was in a forest clearing, surrounded by towering trees that seemed almost otherworldly in their size and vibrancy. Birds chirped melodiously, and the distant sound of running water reached his ears. It was beautiful, serene even, but something felt off.
"What the hell?" he muttered, brushing dirt off his jeans. Except... they weren't his jeans. He looked down, his eyes widening. He was dressed in black leather armour, complete with gauntlets and boots that looked straight out of a fantasy RPG. His hands trembled as he inspected them. They were still his hands, but they looked... stronger, more defined.
A sudden chime rang out, startling him. A glowing blue screen materialised in front of him, floating in the air. His breath caught in his throat.
[System Initialising... Welcome, Player.]
"Player?" he whispered, his heart pounding. The screen flickered, and new text appeared.
[You have been summoned to the world of Eryndor. This world is a convergence of realms: Alfheim, Yggdrasil, Tempest, Orario, and more. Your mission: Survive and thrive.]
Tom stared at the screen, his mind racing. Eryndor? Convergence of realms? He recognised some of the names. Sword Art Online. Fairy Tail. Re:Zero. These were worlds he knew—worlds he had loved and escaped into when his own life became unbearable. But this couldn't be real. Could it?
The screen flickered again, displaying what appeared to be his stats.
[Name: Thomas (Player)]
[Class: Shadow Warden (Template: Noob Saibot)]
[Level: 1]
[Abilities: Shadow Manipulation, Stealth, Doppelgänger Creation]
[Inventory: Beginner's Dagger, Cloak of Shadows]
He blinked, his mind struggling to process the information. Shadow Warden? Noob Saibot? He had played enough games to understand what was happening, but it didn't make it any less surreal.
"Okay," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "This is just like a game. I can handle this. I just need to figure out where I am and what's going on."
But as he rose to his feet, the memories of his life before surged unbidden. The nights spent locked in his room, drowning out the screams and crashes from his parents' endless fights with the sound of video games. The way he'd escape into fictional worlds because his own was too painful to bear. His throat tightened, but he shook his head, pushing the memories aside. This wasn't the time.
"Focus, Tom," he told himself. "If this really is like a game, then I need to play smart."
He scanned his surroundings, his gamer instincts kicking in. The forest was lush and dense, with faint paths winding through the trees. He spotted a small satchel lying nearby, likely his starting gear. He opened it to find a few essentials: a map, a water flask, and a loaf of bread. Not much, but it was a start.
The map caught his attention. It was detailed, showing various regions with names that sent a chill down his spine. "Lugnica," he read aloud, recognising it from Re:Zero. "Fiore… Orario… Nazarick." His fingers traced the parchment, his mind whirling. This wasn't just one world. It was all of them, blended together into a single, sprawling realm.
He slung the satchel over his shoulder, gripping the dagger tightly. If the worlds he loved had taught him anything, it was that danger lurked around every corner. And sure enough, as he took his first step down the path, he heard a low growl behind him. Turning slowly, he found himself face to face with a wolf—no, not a wolf. It was larger, its eyes glowing with an unnatural red light.
"Of course," he muttered, raising the dagger. The wolf lunged, and his instincts took over. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its claws. His heart pounded as adrenaline surged through him. He had no combat training, but he had played enough games to know the basics.
"Stay calm," he whispered, circling the beast. It snarled, preparing to attack again. This time, when it leapt, he struck, driving the dagger into its side. The wolf let out a pained yelp, collapsing to the ground. Panting, Tom stepped back, his hands trembling.
A familiar chime rang out, and the glowing screen appeared once more.
[Congratulations! You have defeated a Lesser Dire Wolf. EXP gained: 50. Level up!]
He stared at the screen, a mix of disbelief and exhilaration washing over him. He had done it. He had survived his first encounter. But the weight of his situation pressed down on him. This wasn't a game. This was real. And if he wanted to survive, he'd have to rely on every ounce of knowledge he had—and the system that had inexplicably chosen him.
As he made his way deeper into the forest, his mind raced. This world was a tangled web of stories and dangers, and he was an outsider, thrown into the chaos with nothing but his wits and a dagger. But he wasn't just anyone. He was a gamer, a survivor. And if there was one thing he had learned from his old life, it was this:
No matter how bleak things seemed, there was always a way forward.