I've always been obsessed with video games. It started when I was stuck in a hospital for way too long. The sterile walls, the endless beeping machines—games were my escape. They became my whole world. But after years of playing, even the coolest games started feeling… meh. Same old stories, same old battles, same old everything. I was desperate for something different. Then I stumbled across Abyss Warriors.
Abyss Warriors was a quirky single-player RPG from some tiny overseas studio. No fancy graphics—just retro 2D pixel art. No translations either, but it was free, so I gave it a shot. Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision ever. This game was wild. You could talk to NPCs and actually change the story. The controls were weird but awesome, and the world felt massive and mysterious. The battles? Brutal. No health bars, no magic meters. One wrong move, and your character was toast. Dead. Start over. No mercy.
"Ugh, dead again!" I growled at my screen, slamming my desk. It took me a month just to escape the starter village. This game was pure evil. I even swallowed my pride and hunted for walkthroughs online, but barely anyone played it. Tips were scarce, especially in English.
Still, I was hooked. No matter how many times I died, I kept coming back. Five years later—five years of my life—I finally reached the final level.
Abyss Gate.
The screen glowed with a massive stone door, carved with a creepy demon face that seemed to stare right through me. My palms were sweaty, my heart racing. Five years of grinding, all for this moment. I knew the final boss would probably crush me on the first try, but I didn't care. I was going in.
[Do you wish to enter?]
I clicked Yes without blinking.
Another message popped up: [Once you enter, there may be no return. Continue?]
"Pfft, bring it!" I smirked and hit Yes. The screen started loading, and I leaned forward, already planning my strategy. Was the boss a spell-caster? A tank? Maybe it had multiple forms? I was ready to die and learn its moves for next time.
But then, something weird happened. The text on the screen turned to English. This game never had English!
[Successfully entered the Abyss]
[Soul Transfer Initiated]
"Wait, what?!" I blinked, confused. Before I could react, my monitor exploded with blinding white light, like a star going supernova in my room. I squeezed my eyes shut, my ears ringing. Pain ripped through me, like my body was being torn apart and stitched back together. I screamed, but my voice sounded… wrong. Deep. Gruff. Not mine.
"My eyes!" I yelled, clutching my face. Then everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in my room anymore. I wasn't even me. I looked down and saw massive, scarred arms bulging with muscle. My skin was dark and rough, wrapped in a tattered animal hide. In my hand was a giant war axe, its blade crusted with dried blood. I wiggled my fingers, and the axe's weight made my arm shake. This wasn't a game character. This was real.
"Whoa… am I a barbarian?!" I muttered, my voice low and gravelly. I pinched my arm, and the sharp pain made me yelp. Definitely not a dream. Not VR either. This was way too real.
I was in a dark, damp dungeon. The walls were rough stone, the air stank of mold, and water dripped somewhere in the distance. I tried to stand, but heavy iron chains yanked me back. My wrists were shackled, the chains bolted to the wall.
"What the heck is going on?!" My heart pounded. I was supposed to be fighting a boss, not locked up like some medieval prisoner! And this body—it wasn't the sleek warrior I'd built in Abyss Warriors. This was someone—or something—else.
The dungeon's iron door creaked open, and two armored guards stomped in. Their chainmail clinked, and the eagle crest on their chests screamed "official business." They carried an oil lamp and had swords at their hips. One of them sized me up, frowning. "You're awake? Thought you were a goner."
"Who are you guys? Where am I?" I asked, my new voice sounding like a grumpy bear.
"Shut it, barbarian!" the other guard snapped, jabbing a spear at me. "Don't play dumb. We found your rotting corpse near the border. If it wasn't for the summoning spell, you'd be wolf food by now."
"Corpse? Summoning spell?" My brain spun. "Hold up, I'm not a barbarian! I'm just a gamer! I was playing Abyss Warriors, and—"
"Gamer?" The first guard snorted, rolling his eyes. "What's that nonsense? You're a barbarian, born to serve the kingdom and fight the Abyss monsters. Start talking—why were you near the Abyss Gate?"
"Abyss Gate? Monsters?" My stomach twisted. This was starting to sound like the game, but… wrong. Twisted. "Look, I'm from another world. I was just playing a game, then poof, I'm here! You've got the wrong guy!"
The guards exchanged a look, then burst out laughing. "Another world? Ha! Nice try, meathead," the younger one sneered. "Your kind always tries to weasel out. You're staying in this cell until we figure out what you know. If you're lucky, you'll get sent to the front lines to die fighting. If not…" He trailed off, his grin turning dark.
They turned and slammed the door shut, leaving me in the dark. I slumped against the cold wall, my mind racing. Summoning spells? Monsters? Abyss Gate? This world was like Abyss Warriors, but way scarier. I wasn't just stuck in a game—I was trapped in a nightmare. And this body? I glanced at my scarred arms, noticing weird stitches on my skin. My stomach churned. This wasn't just any barbarian. This was a dead barbarian, brought back to life.
"Great," I muttered, tugging at the chains. They didn't budge. "Trapped in a zombie barbarian body, locked in a dungeon, and probably about to be monster chow. Worst. Day. Ever."