I felt uneasy. Hopeful? Sure, but it was a thin hope, like clinging to a rope over a dark abyss. Returning to the game felt like walking back into a fire that could consume everything. My life, my sanity, my soul—it all felt precariously balanced on the edge of that virtual world.

The image of that kid haunted me. His desperate pleas, his screams as the fight ended—it replayed in my head over and over. He’d begged for mercy, and though I’d struck him down out of necessity, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had dealt him a punishment far worse than death. That boy was blind now, his life permanently altered because of the corruption infecting the game.

The news reports didn’t help. Every screen, every headline, painted the tragedy in stark colors. The parents had received a massive settlement from the EternaLink manufacturers—a payout large enough to soften the blow, but not large enough to restore their son’s vision. The game’s developers, however, weren’t budging. Age of Eternity wasn’t shutting down.

I understood their decision. The week they’d shut the servers down before—trying to resolve glitches—had cost them millions of dollars. Investors had threatened to pull out, and the microtransaction train, which pumped out endless revenue, had ground to a halt. They weren’t broke by any means, but the idea of closing down again, especially with news of the Ascended spreading, clearly terrified them.

Still, the numbers gnawed at me. Twenty? Maybe a hundred? That was the estimated number of these so-called Ascended, players using corrupted code to cheat death and dominate others. Each one of them was a ticking time bomb, capable of turning the game—and by extension, the world—into chaos.

For those outside this mess, who think this is just a game, let me put it into perspective. I spent 1.72 million yen on this setup. That’s the price of an average car. The EternaLink VR headset, the game license, and a rig powerful enough to run it at full specs—it wasn’t a casual purchase. For most players, it was an investment. And now, it felt like a gamble where the stakes were life and death.

Yet, despite my doubts, despite the bile that rose every time I thought of the boy I’d harmed, I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t turn my back.

The devs were working tirelessly, or so they claimed. Sato had assured me they were doing everything they could to root out Takahiro Sakaguchi and his army of Ascended. But their efforts felt distant, abstract. I couldn’t see their progress, couldn’t feel it in the game where chaos still ruled in the shadows.

And I? I had unfinished business.

The dungeon was still there, looming in my mind like a challenge I couldn’t ignore. Whatever was at its heart, whatever mysteries or dangers it held, I needed to face it. If not for myself, then for the players still trapped in this nightmare.

I logged back in, the familiar hum of the VR rig enveloping me. As the world of Age of Eternity materialized around me, I clenched my fists.

The uneasy feeling lingered, but so did the spark of determination. If I had to walk into the fire again, so be it. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it was a battlefield, and I wasn’t ready to retreat. At least not until my name, Astraeus, shone at the top of every leaderboard in radiant letters for all to see. Call me prideful if you wish, but games—whether pixelated challenges or sprawling virtual worlds—were made to be conquered. Age of Eternity was my mountaintop, and I wasn’t stopping until I planted my flag.

I logged back in, the familiar digital hum enveloping me as the world materialized. I found myself back at the tavern in the player-run city, where every price tag was an insult to my wallet. A so-called Adamantium Sword of Slashing was listed at 1.1 million gold. Laughable. I could craft one for 50k if I had the materials, but of course, the lazy and uninformed bought them up without a second thought.

I chuckled at the absurdity as I stepped outside. If Mira had been here in her investigative capacity, she’d have sniffed out the extortion racket in seconds, but her real-world sleuthing skills far outstripped her in-game efficiency. Not that she was bad—Mira was an elite gamer in her own right. But her gear wasn’t optimized for the dangers lurking here, and today, I would find her in trouble.

Descending deeper into the dungeon, I kept my steps light and my senses sharper. The labyrinthine halls of the 13th floor stretched before me, dimly lit by eerie green crystals embedded in the walls. My ears strained for any sound—footsteps, the growl of monsters, or worse, the distinct sound of spells being cast.

I rounded a corner, and there she was: Mira, cornered by a pack of morons from Crossbones, their signature black-and-bone armor marking them as members of one of the game’s most annoying PvP guilds. Their attacks barely scratched her thanks to her auto-regeneration, but I could see her mana bar depleting steadily. Her equipment was designed for PvE—perfect against undead mobs, but painfully suboptimal in PvP scenarios.

Her attackers, unaware of my presence, jeered and taunted.

“You really think you can outlast us, sweetie? Just drop your loot, and we might let you crawl back to the safe zone.”

Mira’s jaw clenched, and I could tell she was spooling up one of her slow-charging Holy Smite spells. It wouldn’t save her before her mana ran out. Versus players spells were slower at least charging skills like Holy Smile.

Time to step in.

With a flick of my hand, I activated Light Step, my body blurring forward at incredible speed. My sword gleamed as it slashed through the first attacker, his form dissolving into a shower of disjointed pixels. At the same time, Dark Pact: Mana Drain and Stamina Drain triggered, replenishing my own resources and crippling his allies.

The second attacker didn’t fare any better. I channeled Arcanic Blast, the concentrated energy punching through his chest and sending him screaming back to the respawn point.

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Standing in front of Mira, I turned to the last attacker, who was visibly shaken.

“Spot of trouble?” I asked smugly, my voice carrying a casual arrogance.

“Oh, my hero,” Mira deadpanned, her sarcasm thick. “I was just about to wipe the floor with these clowns myself.”

I grinned but turned my attention back to the remaining player. “Tell you what, buddy. Your two friends are already back at the safe zone nursing their egos. Why don’t you do us all a favor and leave the lady alone?”

The Skullhead member sneered, trying to muster bravado. “Hmph, a guildy coming to your rescue, babydoll? Just you wait. Our GM’s gonna—”

He froze as his gaze flicked to my name. His face went pale. Without another word, he turned tail and ran, disappearing around a corner like his life depended on it.

“Where ya going?” I called after him mockingly. “I thought we were gonna fight!”

When he was out of sight, I turned back to Mira. “You okay?” I asked, my tone softening.

She sighed, brushing dust off her robe. “I was fine. Those idiots couldn’t hurt me if they tried, but my mana’s another story. My gear’s all PvE-focused. Hitting them with my maces is like swatting them with a feather.”

I nodded, taking in her equipment. Blessed Maces of the Dawn—great for smiting undead, terrible for PvP. Her robes had excellent auto-regen stats but were lacking in mana efficiency.

“Didn’t I teach you to keep your options open for PvP?” I teased lightly, though there was a kernel of seriousness in my words.

She huffed. “I know, I know. Apollo thought the whole Crossbones-versus-Red Masters drama would keep PvP guilds out of the dungeons for a while. He told us during Tuesday’s session—by the way, I covered for you. Again.”

I raised an eyebrow, but she continued. “Anyway, Apollo said Crossbones has a new guild member. Some legendary hunter who’s been tearing through the game. That’s why we came to Floor 13—to farm Pearls of Power. They drop here and give minor stat boosts.”

“Let me guess. Those idiots thought you had some?” I asked.

“Yep. And they decided to ‘shank’ me just in case.” She rolled her eyes. “My auto-regen’s solid, but my mana pool’s too small. I need a bigger pool to outlast fights like that.”

I crossed my arms. “Or you need better regen. Look, your pool’s 1200, right? You need at least 25-30% regen in combat and 60% out. Prioritize mana efficiency on your gear. You’ll sustain longer in fights and won’t have to rely on potions.”

She frowned, mulling it over. “Like how I built my Cleric in Royale Online?"

“Exactly. Back then, you had 1800 mana with a 40% in-combat regen rate. You never ran out during boss fights, even with sustained healing. Replicate that here.”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You know, for someone who never logs on for guild meetings, you sure know a lot.”

I grinned. “I just hate seeing you waste your potential, Mira.”

She smirked. “And yet, here you are saving my ass. Some things never change.”

“Let’s just call it muscle memory.” I winked, motioning for her to follow me. “Come on, let’s clear this floor properly. We’ve got Pearls to farm.”

Pearls of Power were infamous for their absurdly low drop rate, and for good reason. They weren't just rare—they were almost mythical. The Auction House had none listed, which wasn’t surprising. If a player managed to get one, it would either be used immediately or hoarded for personal gain. Trading them wasn’t an option either. The game’s Terms of Service strictly forbade RMT (Real Money Trading), and anyone caught engaging in it would face harsh consequences—account deletion and a permanent blacklist of their IP address. For many, the risk wasn’t worth it, but there were always desperate players willing to try.

Mira had rattled off the exact drop rates for Pearls of Power earlier: a +3 Pearl had a 0.003% chance to drop from normal mobs, 0.009% from elites, and 0.02% from bosses. Those numbers were almost laughable. Still, it made sense from a game balance perspective. If the pearls were easily obtainable, players would exploit the system, and the economy would spiral out of control. But it made me wonder—if the drop rate was so abysmal, what kind of parties were grinding these floors, and for how long? Surely, there were better ways to spend your time. Or maybe the allure of such a rare item was too tempting for some to ignore.

I pulled up the forums while following Mira’s lead through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon. She moved with practiced ease, clearly more familiar with this area than I was. Her guild likely shared shortcuts and strategies during their meetings—meetings I rarely attended. I wasn’t the "team player" type, and everyone in the guild knew it. Apollo, our guild leader, tolerated my behavior because I got results, but I knew even his patience had its limits.

Scrolling through the forums, I found a detailed breakdown of the pearls. They went up to +15, each increment exponentially rarer than the last. The forums buzzed with theories and complaints about the drop rates. Most players wrote them off as a pipe dream, while others swore they had found ways to "increase their luck." I rolled my eyes at that—superstition was rampant in games like this. But as much as I dismissed it, I couldn’t deny the temptation of holding a +15 Pearl of Power in my inventory. Not that it would ever happen; the odds were equivalent to squeezing blood from a stone.

Mira stopped as we reached a crossroads. She gestured to the left path, her voice casual but tinged with amusement. "That way leads to a jumping point. Not many people take it, but it’s there if you’re feeling adventurous."

"Jumping point?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "A shortcut to Floor 60. Devs added it after a petition from around 30,000 players. People were sick of grinding their way up and down, so they implemented this to streamline the trek to the first safe zone up there. But it’s a one-way trip—you can’t come back down through it."

I nodded, the logic settling in. A shortcut to bypass 47 floors of grinding? I could see the appeal, though it felt like a cheat code in a game that prided itself on difficulty.

"I’m heading to the next floor," Mira said, gesturing to the opposite corridor. "There are some materials I need for crafting. Keep an eye out for trouble."

"Always do," I replied, watching as she disappeared down the hall. Her movements were precise, her confidence unshaken. For a moment, I considered joining her—old habits died hard—but curiosity pulled me toward the jumping point.

The hole yawned before me, a swirling, faintly glowing circle marking its boundary. I took a breath, stepped forward, and let gravity take over. The descent was surprisingly smooth, the glow intensifying as the world around me seemed to dissolve into a loading screen. Moments later, I landed with a thud, knees bending instinctively to absorb the impact.

The air was immediately different—heavy, damp, and cold. I stood in the middle of a dense forest, the towering trees shrouded in thick mist. A notification popped up in my peripheral vision:

"Floor 60: Forest of Eternal Sleep."

The name alone sent a shiver down my spine. This floor wasn’t just ominous—it felt alive. The mist coiled and shifted like it had a mind of its own, and the silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of branches swaying in an unseen wind. I had barely taken a step when the ground beneath me trembled.

At first, it was subtle—a faint vibration, almost imperceptible. Then it grew stronger, more rhythmic, as if something massive was moving beneath the earth. The trees around me swayed in its wake, their roots groaning against the force, but no trail of destruction followed. Whatever it was, it moved without leaving a trace.

I tightened my grip on my sword, my instincts screaming at me to stay still. The mist thickened, swallowing the path ahead and obscuring my vision. The tremors continued, closer now, their cadence unnerving. Each step forward felt like a gamble, the unknown pressing in from all sides.

And then the mist shifted again, this time unnaturally. It wasn’t the wind—it was purposeful, deliberate. I was no longer alone. My curiosity had led me here, but now I wasn’t sure if that was bravery or foolishness.