The morning came too soon, dragging me back to consciousness with a chorus of birds that sounded entirely too cheerful for a world filled with monsters and zealots. I groaned, rolled over on the hard-packed dirt, and tried to will myself back to sleep. No such luck.

The camp was already stirring. Mercenaries were packing up gear, sharpening blades, and muttering to each other in low voices. Alric was standing near the fire, his hands clasped in prayer, mumbling something about the Light Eternal.

I sat up, rubbing the back of my neck. Sleeping on the ground was not something I was built for. My whole body ached, and my brain was still trying to process the absolute disaster that had become my life.

“Chosen One!” Alric called, spotting me. He waved, his face lit with that same unrelenting enthusiasm that made me want to punch a tree. “The captain wishes to see you before we depart!”

“Of course he does,” I muttered, forcing myself to stand.

The captain was waiting near the edge of the camp, his massive sword slung over his back like it weighed nothing. He didn’t look up as I approached, focused instead on a map spread across a makeshift table.

“You’re late,” he said without preamble.

“I’m not late,” I replied. “You’re just early. Big difference.”

He glanced up, his expression as unreadable as ever. “This isn’t a game, Chosen. Every moment you waste puts lives at risk.”

I bit back the obvious response—that this was a game, at least for whoever or whatever had pulled me into it. Instead, I crossed my arms. “What do you need?”

“The plan,” he said, gesturing to the map. “You’re leading the charge.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, holding up my hands. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t lead charges. I avoid charges. Preferably by hiding in a nice, safe corner until they’re over.”

“You’re the Chosen One,” the captain said, his tone flat. “This is your destiny.”

“Yeah, well, destiny needs to find someone else,” I shot back. “I didn’t ask for this.”

He leaned forward, his armored gauntlets creaking as they pressed against the table. “None of us asked for this, Chosen. But the heretics won’t wait for you to figure out what you want.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

The captain explained in excruciating detail. The heretics—whoever they were—had been spotted near an abandoned village a few miles from here. Our mission was to intercept them and drive them back before they could advance any further into Ecclesion’s territory.

“The enemy is well-organized,” the captain said. “But with the Chosen leading us, victory is assured.”

“Right,” I said. “Totally assured. What could possibly go wrong?”

The march to the village was slow and uneventful, which only made my nerves worse. The mercenaries trudged along in silence, their faces grim. Alric walked beside me, occasionally spouting bits of scripture that I ignored.

The captain led the way, his eyes scanning the horizon like he expected an ambush at any moment.

Me? I was trying very hard not to think about the fact that I was about to lead a bunch of people into battle. People who, for some inexplicable reason, thought I knew what I was doing.

The truth was, I didn’t even know what side I was supposed to be on. The prophecy painted the heretics as villains, but I hadn’t actually met them yet. For all I knew, they were just people trying to get away from a system that didn’t work for them.

But questioning the prophecy was blasphemy. And blasphemy, as everyone kept reminding me, was punishable by death.

We reached the village just as the sun hit its peak, casting long shadows across the crumbling buildings. It was a depressing sight—houses reduced to skeletons of wood and stone, overgrown with weeds and vines.

The mercenaries fanned out, weapons at the ready. Alric clutched his prayer beads, muttering under his breath.

The captain turned to me. “They’ll come from the north. We hold the line here. You, Chosen, will take point.”

“Take point?” I echoed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you lead the charge,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I opened my mouth to argue anyway, but before I could, a shout rang out from the north.

“Enemy sighted!”

The heretics came in fast, spilling out of the forest like a flood. They were clad in mismatched armor, wielding a mix of swords, axes, and bows. But what struck me most was their faces—determined, yes, but not cruel. They didn’t look like monsters.

“Hold the line!” the captain bellowed, drawing his massive sword.

The mercenaries formed up, shields locking together in a wall of steel. Arrows began to fly, and the air filled with the clash of metal and the cries of battle.

I stood frozen, my mind racing.

“Chosen One!” Alric’s voice snapped me out of it. “The Light compels you to act!”

“Yeah, the Light,” I muttered. “Super helpful right now.”

The screen flickered to life in front of me:

Quest Updated: Defend Ecclesion’s Forces.

Objective: Eliminate the enemy commander.

Reward: +500 XP, Enhanced Blessing of Light.

“Eliminate the commander,” I muttered. “Sure. Just let me grab my invisible sword of competence and get right on that.”

The battlefield was chaos. Mercenaries clashed with heretics in a flurry of blades and shields. Arrows whistled through the air, thudding into wood and flesh alike.

I darted through the fray, trying very hard not to get hit. My mind raced as I searched for the commander, half-expecting them to show up with a big glowing nameplate over their head.

Instead, I found them near the edge of the battle—a tall, wiry man barking orders at his troops. He didn’t look much older than me, but there was a hardness to his face that spoke of years of fighting.

He spotted me before I could decide what to do. His eyes narrowed, and he raised his sword, pointing it directly at me.

“Chosen One,” he called, his voice cutting through the noise. “You don’t belong here.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered.

The screen appeared again, this time flashing bright red:

Engage Enemy Commander.

Penalty for Failure: Death.

I sighed. “Of course. Why not?”

Drawing on what little courage I had left, I stepped forward, ready to face the commander.

And for the first time, I wondered if maybe the heretics had a point.

The commander didn’t charge right away. He studied me instead, his sword still leveled at my chest. Behind him, the battle raged on, but for a moment, it felt like the two of us were the only ones on the field.

“You don’t look like much,” he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around us.

“Thanks,” I said, matching his tone. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “The Light sent you, didn’t it? Another pawn in their endless game.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Something like that,” I replied, gripping the dagger I’d looted off a fallen mercenary. It felt absurdly small in my hand, especially compared to his sword. “What’s your deal? You lead the bad guys?”

His expression darkened. “Bad guys. Is that what they told you?”

“Well, they didn’t exactly hand me a pamphlet,” I said.

He took a step forward, lowering his sword slightly. “Let me guess. They told you about the prophecy. About your destiny. About how the Light will guide you to victory.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “How do you—”

“They’ve done this before,” he interrupted. “You’re not the first Chosen One they’ve sent to die for their cause. And you won’t be the last.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. He didn’t sound like a zealot. He sounded... tired.

“If you think you’re going to talk me out of this,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt, “you’re wasting your time.”

He smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t need to talk you out of anything. The truth will do that for me.”

The moment shattered as he lunged, his sword cutting through the air faster than I thought possible. I barely managed to dodge, the blade grazing my arm and tearing through the thin fabric of my tunic.

“Okay, that’s sharp!” I yelped, stumbling back.

He pressed the attack, his strikes relentless and precise. I parried clumsily, the dagger vibrating in my hand with every impact.

“You’re not trained for this,” he said, his voice steady. “Why fight for something you don’t understand?”

“Because I like not being dead!” I shot back, narrowly dodging another swing.

The fight wasn’t going well. My arms were already burning, and every move I made felt like it was just delaying the inevitable. Meanwhile, the commander moved like he’d done this a thousand times before, every strike calculated to wear me down.

My mind raced, desperate for something—anything—that could give me an edge. Then I remembered the screen.

“Alright, game,” I muttered under my breath. “If you’re going to force me into this, the least you can do is help.”

As if in response, the screen appeared:

Ability Unlocked: Shadow Strike

Description: Harness the power of the shadows to deal a critical blow to your enemy. Cooldown: 30 seconds.

“Shadow Strike,” I whispered. “Right. Let’s see what this does.”

I waited for his next attack, letting him get close. His sword came down in a wide arc, and I dove to the side, letting the shadows at the edge of the battlefield swallow me.

For a moment, everything went silent. The world around me blurred, replaced by an oppressive darkness that clung to my skin like a second layer. Then I felt it—a surge of energy, cold and sharp, coursing through me.

When I reappeared, I was behind him.

The dagger in my hand pulsed with an unnatural light as I drove it toward his back. He turned at the last second, his eyes widening in surprise, but it was too late to block the strike.

The blade connected, and he staggered forward, blood blooming across his armor.

He dropped to one knee, his sword digging into the dirt for support. I stood over him, panting, the dagger still trembling in my hand.

“Do it,” he said, his voice low.

I hesitated. “Do what?”

“Finish it,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet mine. There was no fear in his eyes, only a quiet defiance.

I tightened my grip on the dagger, my heart pounding. He was the enemy, right? The commander of the heretics. Killing him was what I was supposed to do.

But then his words came back to me. They’ve done this before. You’re not the first Chosen One.

“What if you’re wrong?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Wrong about what? The Light? The prophecy? Or the fact that they’ll throw you away the moment you stop being useful?”

I swallowed hard, my hand shaking. He wasn’t fighting anymore. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself.

“If you believe in their cause, then prove it,” he said. “Strike me down, and let the Light judge us both.”

For a long moment, I didn’t move. The battlefield around us seemed to fade into the background, the sounds of swords and screams growing distant.

I thought about the Overseer. About the priest. About the mercenaries who had called me their savior without even knowing my name.

And I thought about him. The man kneeling in front of me, unarmed and unafraid.

“I’m not doing this,” I said finally, lowering the dagger.

He stared at me, his expression unreadable. “Then you’re already stronger than the ones who came before you.”

Before I could respond, the battlefield erupted into chaos. A blinding light descended from the sky, and the air was filled with the sound of a voice—not a human voice, but something deeper, older, and infinitely more terrifying.

“Chosen One,” the voice boomed, shaking the ground beneath my feet. “You have strayed from the path. Repent, or be cast into darkness.”

I looked up, my chest tightening. The light took shape, forming into a massive figure wreathed in flames and wings.

The Light Eternal had arrived.

And it was pissed.

The blazing figure towered over the battlefield, its form shifting between a humanoid shape and something far more alien. Wings of fire unfurled, casting flickering shadows across the stunned combatants below. For a moment, neither side moved. Mercenaries and heretics alike froze, weapons hanging limply at their sides as they stared up at the supposed embodiment of divine will.

The Light Eternal’s voice boomed again, every word vibrating through the marrow of my bones.

“Chosen One, you dare defy the prophecy? You deny the will of the Light?”

I blinked up at the fiery figure, my mouth suddenly dry. My first instinct was to run. My second instinct was to shout something sarcastic, but that seemed like a great way to get vaporized.

The commander struggled to his feet beside me, clutching his wounded side. His face was pale, but his voice remained steady. “Do you see now, Chosen One? The Light isn’t here to guide you. It’s here to control you.”

“Not helping!” I hissed.

The Light Eternal’s gaze—if it could be called that—snapped to the commander. “You are a blight upon this world, heretic. Your defiance ends now.”

A pulse of energy shot from the figure’s hand, a beam of searing light aimed directly at the commander. Without thinking, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the way. The beam struck the ground where he’d been standing, leaving a smoldering crater.

“Move, move, move!” I shouted, dragging him toward the nearest cover.

The battlefield exploded into chaos. Whatever fragile truce had existed during my confrontation with the commander shattered as the Light Eternal unleashed its fury. Mercenaries and heretics scattered, some fighting each other, others simply trying to escape.

I dove behind a toppled cart with the commander, my heart pounding. He winced as he clutched his side, blood seeping through his fingers.

“You didn’t have to save me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of doing what people expect me to do,” I shot back. “Besides, if anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

He actually smiled at that, though it quickly turned into a grimace. “Fair enough.”

The ground shook as another beam of light struck nearby, sending debris flying. I risked a glance over the cart, watching as the Light Eternal moved across the battlefield like an avenging god.

“This is bad,” I muttered.

“Welcome to the rebellion,” the commander said.

The screen appeared in front of me, flickering erratically as if even it wasn’t sure what to do with this situation.

New Quest: Survive the Wrath of the Light.

Objective: Escape the battlefield alive.

Reward: +1,000 XP.

Penalty for Failure: Obliteration.

“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure.”

I turned to the commander. “Alright, mister rebellion leader. Any bright ideas on how to not die horribly?”

His brow furrowed as he thought. “The Light Eternal’s physical form is powerful, but it’s bound to this place. If we can get far enough away, it won’t be able to follow.”

“Define ‘far enough,’” I said.

“Beyond the village,” he said, nodding toward the forest on the horizon.

“That’s like half a mile away!”

“Do you have a better idea?”

I glanced back at the Light Eternal, which was currently swatting a group of mercenaries aside like gnats.

“Running it is,” I said.

We bolted from the cart, weaving through the chaos of the battlefield. Arrows and spells flew past us, and the ground shook with every step the Light Eternal took.

The commander stumbled, nearly falling, and I grabbed his arm to steady him. “Don’t die on me now,” I said.

“You’re oddly invested in my survival for someone who was trying to kill me ten minutes ago,” he said, his tone dry.

“Yeah, well, you’re my ticket out of here, so stay alive.”

The Light Eternal’s voice thundered behind us. “Chosen One, you cannot escape your destiny!”

“Watch me!” I shouted over my shoulder.

Another beam of light shot past us, narrowly missing. It struck a building ahead, and the structure collapsed in a shower of splinters and stone.

“Does this thing have a cooldown or something?” I muttered.

“Clearly not!” the commander snapped.

We reached the edge of the village, the forest tantalizingly close. I could hear the shouts of soldiers behind us, but I didn’t dare look back.

The Light Eternal loomed over the battlefield, its fiery form flickering with rage. It raised one hand, gathering another orb of searing light.

“Keep running!” I yelled, pushing the commander ahead of me.

The orb shot toward us, and I knew instinctively that we weren’t going to make it. Without thinking, I focused on the shadows pooling around the edge of the forest.

“Shadow Step!” I shouted, half expecting it not to work.

The world blurred, and for a moment, everything went dark. When I reappeared, I was in the forest, my lungs burning and my head spinning.

The commander stumbled beside me, clutching his side. He looked around, his eyes wide. “How did you—”

“No time,” I said, grabbing his arm again. “Keep moving.”

We didn’t stop until the sounds of battle faded into the distance. The forest closed in around us, its dense canopy filtering out what little sunlight remained.

The commander collapsed against a tree, his breathing ragged. I leaned against another, my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.

“Well,” I said between gasps, “that... was awful.”

“You have a gift,” the commander said, his tone wary. “That ability you used... it’s not something I’ve seen before.”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises,” I said, brushing dirt off my tunic.

He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “You saved my life back there. I won’t forget that.”

“Don’t get too sentimental,” I said. “I still don’t trust you.”

“Good,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Trust is dangerous in this world.”

I sighed, leaning my head back against the tree. The Light Eternal had let us go for now, but I knew it wouldn’t stop.

And as much as I hated to admit it, the commander was right. I needed answers. About the Light. About the prophecy. About why I’d been brought here in the first place.

For now, though, survival was enough.

“Alright,” I said, glancing at him. “What’s your name, anyway? I can’t keep calling you ‘the commander.’”

He hesitated, then extended a hand. “Kael.”

I shook it, my grip firm. “Ash.”

“Where do we go from here, Ash?” Kael asked.

I looked back toward the village, where the faint glow of the Light Eternal still lingered on the horizon.

“Anywhere but there,” I said.