The stench of blood and torn flesh hung thick in the air, mingling with the deafening roars of battle. Screams of agony, the clash of steel, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground—it was chaos.
The battlefield stretched endlessly, a grotesque sea of corpses and shattered weapons. Overhead, the fractured remains of the moon rained down upon what was once Earth, painting the sky with streaks of fire and destruction.
Then, as if the apocalypse itself had opened its maw, black portals began to rupture across the battlefield.
Horrific creatures manifest from them, unrelenting and absolute.
Corpses littered the ground, blood pooled to just below the knees — making it significantly harder to fight.
Still, the soldiers persevered. Some driven by ambition, some by duty, some with no choice but to be here, and others… others who sought nothing but the thrill of carnage.
But their reasons meant nothing.
A portal unlike the others tore open, its size alone swallowing the battlefield in shadow. A single, armoured foot stepped through—black steel, etched with ancient scars of war.
Then came the figure.
Clad in abyssal armour, its form pulsed with a crimson glow as if veins of molten fury ran beneath the surface. In one hand, it gripped a massive, Zweihänder, its edges permanently stained with the blood of countless victims.
The creature barely acknowledged the soldiers before it. With a single, effortless wave of its sword
SPLATTER!
The front lines were erased. Not cut down, not slain—erased. Only four men remained, drenched in the blood of their fallen comrades.
With a tacit understanding, the four heroes nod at each other—
Unlike the heroes expected, the demonic figure did not wait for them to prepare themselves.
BOOOM!
Before they could even move, the battlefield detonated. In an instant, three of them were reduced to dust, their bodies never even registering pain before being obliterated.
The large black figure grins madly, eyes red with uncontrollable fury as it stands in the centre of the crater it made with a mere stomp of its metal foot.
The last remaining soldier barely turned his head in time—
Shing!
A black blade roared past him, missing his neck by a hair's breadth. But he wasn't fast enough.
CRACK! WHOOSH!
A boot crashed into his ribs with the force of a truck. The sound of bones shattering reached the ears of the violent figure as the soldier's body launched skyward like a rag-doll.
The demon was already grinning.
Eyes ablaze with bloodlust, it bent its knees and shot into the air like a jet, closing the distance in an instant.
"RAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!"
BOOOOOOM!!
The sword came down like divine judgment. The earth beneath them screamed as a crater swallowed the soldier.
Dust and debris settled in the eerie silence. With a single motion, the demon wave away the smoke, revealing the lifeless body of the hero—pinned, broken and defeated.
Before the soldier's dimming eyes, a screen flickered to life.
A single phrase appeared, glowing ominously.
[GAME OVER]
***
In room number #1, Glory Academy Year 1 Dormitory.
Beep Beep
Beep Beep
The sickening sound of an alarm fills the room, ordinarily, this would annoy the teen who is currently walking out of the Game-Pod. However, the sound of a hearty laugh drowned out the sound of the alarm momentarily.
"Nothing like starting the day by bullying some noobs," He mutters, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
Bam!
The young man smacks the alarm away with a sharp slap that seems to come out of nowhere.
"E.V.E., what is my schedule for today?" He asks his A.I. while gazing lovingly at his Game-Pod.
[Schedule for Thursday, 31st December, 2224]
[Current Time: 8:05 AM]
— 9:00 AM to 10:30 AM: History with Mr Reidir
— 10:45 AM to 1:30 PM: Combat Arena with Mavena
— 2:30 PM — …
The list continued to scroll, E.V.E.'s voice reading it off in the background—but he'd already tuned out
A soft pulse lit up on the sleek black bracelet around his wrist. A message icon appeared on his connector—stealing his attention.
He opened the message to see the usernames of the players he just killed spamming him with repeated angry messages.
A 'gentle' smile crept up his face, his eyes filled with 'kindness' as he replied swiftly.
-L bro
-Stay mad
-Skill issue.exe
He clicks send with a hearty chuckle—the rage-filled messages continue, to which his smile becomes even more 'gentle'.
'Yes. Keep seething. This is what I live for,'
His attention is brought back to E.V.E., as he finally registers her previous words.
"Did you say arena? Also, who is Mavena?"
He was excited at the prospect of combat class, but he was confused about who this new Combat Instructor was.
E.V.E. judged the first question was rhetorical, so she elected to answer the second question, providing details on the new Combat Instructor.
[Mavena {Surname Unregistered}, Age: 54, Height: 200cm, Weight: {Unregistered}, Background: Unknown, however — speculation suggests that she may be a retired military official.]
"Hmmm," The young man hums in acknowledgement, nodding absentmindedly as he wanders into the kitchen. He takes out a box of cereal, a bowl and a carton of milk with a casual air.
"Captain Crisp, the breakfast of the gods…" He muttered to himself, his tone dripping with reverence.
He poured the milk first—because, of course. He is a lunatic—followed by the cereal, and then, for reasons no sane mind could comprehend, shoved the bowl into the microwave—to achieve nothing but getting the bowl hot.
***
The young man finishes his breakfast while in the bath.
His wrist buzzed—he glanced at the black bracelet around his wrist, noticing the calling icon flashing on one of the beads.
With a tired sigh, he rolls his eyes—answering the call on his connector.
"Giuseppe, where are you? You should be here by now," The voice on the other end was unmistakably Marcus—his tone flat, the young man, now known as Giuseppe—could almost imagine his friend's deadpan expression even without seeing it.
"Good lord, you sound like a mother. A nagging one at that," Giuseppe shot back, a grin growing on his face.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Marcus immediately retorted.
"That's not very motherly of you," Giuseppe teased, amused.
"You—"
"Listen, Marcus, you must appreciate the silence of this fine morning. And not ruin it by the ramblings of Mr Reidir,"
Giuseppe spun his connector carelessly around his finger, the carefree smile never leaving his face as he made his way out of the bath. The warm steam from the backroom still clung to him.
"You were playing DMO, weren't you?" Marcus asks.
"Echo, actually," Giuseppe's voice cut through as he finished drying himself off and stood up, moving toward the bathroom mirror.
"Echo? You haven't touched that game in months after getting max level," Marcus pointed out.
"I know, right? Some beta-test rejects challenged me and now they're mad cause' they got voided." Giuseppe said with a hearty laugh, admiring his reflection in the mirror.
A tall young man with a handsome face stared back at him.
His deep obsidian eyes gleamed, and a proud smirk tugged at his lips as he inspected his toned physique. His black hair was damp from the bath, slightly messy but effortlessly styled.
He quickly dries himself off, brushing his teeth while Marcus talks through his bracelet.
"Anyway," Marcus's voice turned more serious, "you should at least get here before arena. We gotta' be as prepped as possible before tomorrow,"
Giuseppe, still brushing his teeth, paused at the sink, looking up with a quizzical expression.
"Why?"
Marcus groaned. "Are you serious? Tomorrow's New Year's Day, you idiot. We're going into Warcraft Online, becoming fucking Storywalkers. You know, the whole damn reason we are at this school?"
Giuseppe paused, raising his head from the sink.
"Was that tomorrow?" He mutters, briefly checking the date.
He taps his connector, and a holographic screen appears before his eyes.
[Thursday 31st December 2224 - 10:24 AM]
Every New Year's Day, upon reaching 16 years old—one has the opportunity to enter Warcraft Online.
Becoming a Storywalker.
A Storywalker is someone who enters one of the countless realities within Warcraft Online, and through their actions, helps stabilise the universe, ensuring the continued balance of stories.
"Hmm…" He hummed softly in acknowledgement, before refocusing on Marcus's voice.
"I'm ready." He says firmly, his gaze locking with his reflection in the mirror. He slicked back his wet black hair—his sharp obsidian eyes now intense.
"I have been waiting for this day for ages." He added, a large grin spreading across his face, showing his sharp teeth.
There was a silence from Marcus's end, his thoughts unreadable.
"Anyway, I'm almost ready. I will be on time for arena. So prepare to get your ass handed to you,"
"Delude yourself for all I care," Marcus shot back, ending the call before Giuseppe could retort.
"Tsk...Dick," He mutters while putting his messy hair into a rough man bun—securing it with a long silver pin.
***
After getting ready, Giuseppe steps out of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair as he walks past the hallway mirror. He stops for a moment, flashing himself a proud smirk.
Dressed in loose white bottoms and a snug black long-sleeve—its sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms—he exudes effortless confidence. Slipping on his black sliders and adjusting his white bucket hat, he catches another glimpse of himself as he heads for the door.
"Fuck, I look like a damn kitchen floor," he chuckles to himself.
With a soft click, the door automatically locks behind him as he steps into the spacious halls of the Year 1 male dormitory.
Glory Academy's campus is massive, practically the size of a small city. Despite having spent almost a year here, Giuseppe still finds himself lost more frequently than he'd like.
Upon exiting the dormitory building, Giuseppe was surprised to see not as many people in class as he expected.
The academy was bustling with festivities and decorations. All students and staff were heavily anticipating tomorrow.
Giuseppe quickly checks the time again.
[10:31 am]
He narrows his eyes thoughtfully.
'Not as much time as I'd like, but no way I'm missing the only class I actually enjoy,'
A grin spreads across his face as he quickens his pace.
"Especially with this new teacher…"
With a spark of excitement in his step, he strides toward the campus bullet train station.
***
Marcus sighed as he sat on a park bench.
Marcus stands at a similar height to Giuseppe, his dark skin contrasting sharply with his deep golden eyes. He has intricately styled dreadlocks which are mostly swept back, catching the shining light of the sun and giving off a radiant golden hue.
His athletic, muscular build speaks of both power and agility. A pair of sleek, round golden sunglasses rest on his face, subtly hiding his luminous eyes.
His attire consists of a simple grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, clearly prepared for the upcoming training session.
Marcus's overall aesthetic could be considered handsome.
As he sat, his attention was drawn to a large tree nearby. It wasn't the size that caught his eye, but the pair of black boots tied to one of its branches.
"Was that always there...?" Marcus muttered to himself.
"I don't fuckin' know, bro," a voice came from behind him.
Marcus jumped in surprise. "Holy shit! You scared me."
Giuseppe appeared, smirking, as he casually rested his arms on the back of the bench.
________________________________________
Author Note
:)