Theo, a seasoned veteran in crisis relief, found himself amidst the desolation of what was once the picturesque capital of Reykjavik, Iceland. For the past three years, he had dedicated himself to aiding those affected by calamities around the world. But nothing could have prepared him for the devastation that lay before him.
As he stood on the coast, gazing at the ruins of Reykjavik, it was hard to believe this was the same city he had heard about in stories of vibrant culture and stunning landscapes. Now, it was a haunting tableau of destruction, wrought by the relentless onslaught of hurricanes and volcanic eruptions. Buildings lay in twisted heaps, vegetation uprooted and strewn about like discarded toys, and the air was thick with the scent of ash and molten rock.
Most of the once-proud citizens had fled, seeking refuge in distant lands like Canada and various European countries. Only a handful of crisis relief workers like Theo remained, determined to scour every inch of the ravaged country for survivors, no matter how slim the hope.
On this particular day, Theo found himself solemnly carrying out a grim task. He had unearthed several bodies from a collapsed home, their lifeless forms a stark reminder of the human cost of these disasters. With heavy heart and practiced efficiency, he began the somber ritual of digging graves. It was a duty that lay outside his official job description, but one he had sadly become all too familiar with.
The shovel's spade bit into the earth as Theo worked, his muscles aching from the physical labor and his mind weighed down by the sorrow of so much loss. Wiping his brow with a grimy sleeve, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and looked up at the sky, hoping perhaps for a glimpse of solace or a sign of better days to come.
It was then that he noticed it, looming above him in bold letters against the ashen sky: "Would you like to play a game?"
Startled, Theo squinted at the message, his mind racing with a mixture of confusion and unease. In a world already shattered by natural disasters, the appearance of such a cryptic message felt like a cruel joke. Yet, as he stood there, surrounded by destruction and death, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was something more than mere chance.
The air was heavy with the scent of ash and decay, the ground beneath his feet still trembling from the aftershocks of recent disasters. As if the world hadn't become confusing enough, he felt a strange force tugging at his consciousness, pulling him towards the alert box that loomed ominously in the sky.
Unknowingly, as if guided by some unseen hand, he reached towards the heavens with his right hand, fingers hovering over the ethereal display. It was as though a button awaited beneath his touch, beckoning him to make a choice. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, he pressed his hand forward, the tips of his fingers brushing against the shimmering surface of the message.
Theo, once an avid gamer who had long abandoned his virtual pursuits for the harsh realities of crisis relief, couldn't shake the surrealness of the moment. "This is no time for games," he muttered to himself, trying to focus on the task at hand. With each strike of the spade against the unforgiving earth, the hole for the final grave grew deeper, a somber reminder of the lives lost in this unforgiving landscape.
Satisfied with his efforts, Theo wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced back up at the sky, expecting the strange message to have vanished like a mirage. Yet, to his bewilderment, it remained, the words glowing ominously against the bleak backdrop of clouds.
"Are you sure?" the message seemed to taunt him, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Uncertainty gnawed at Theo's mind. Was this some sort of hallucination brought on by exhaustion and grief? Or perhaps a cruel trick of his own weary imagination? Before he could fully process his thoughts, the message changed, the words shifting and twisting into a new, more ominous form.
"Would you like to play a game? This is your last chance."
Theo's pulse quickened, his mind racing with a mix of fear and curiosity. Without fully understanding why, he found himself reaching once more towards the sky, fingers trembling as he selected the "yes" option. As his hand moved through the empty air, the message in the sky blinked out of existence, only to reappear before him as a translucent, holographic window.
The strange, transparent interface hovered before his eyes, reminiscent of the video games he had once immersed himself in as a child. An animated text face materialized within the window, its features shifting and contorting in an unsettling display.
[Welcome to the system of life! ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯Please choose your desired class before the game begins!]
Theo stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the strange message box hovering before him. It was like something out of a fantastical dream, yet the reality of it was undeniable. His gaze flickered to the small, almost inconspicuous arrow pointing downwards, reminiscent of a drop-down menu. Without fully understanding why, his hand moved of its own accord, reaching towards the arrow and pressing it.
As he did, a bittersweet flood of memories washed over him, memories of a time long gone yet etched deeply into his soul. Before him appeared a list of classes, each one a familiar entry from the realm of Dungeons and Dragons, the tabletop game he and his late brother had spent countless hours immersed in.
Theo's heart clenched at the sight. He remembered those nights with a mixture of fondness and pain, the arguments and discussions with his younger brother about the merits of each class. They would debate endlessly about how to min-max characters, weighing the pros and cons of every choice. His brother, always a staunch advocate for the Warlock class, would boast about the incredible power and versatility it offered. Theo, on the other hand, favored a more balanced approach, emphasizing the importance of a diverse party for the sake of fun and cooperation. He would often choose to play as a Paladin or Druid, eager to support the group in any way he could.
With a heavy heart, Theo thought back to his brother's unwavering enthusiasm for the Warlock class. It was his favorite, the one he always returned to no matter the campaign. The memories flooded back—the laughter, the arguments, the shared moments of victory and defeat. But alongside the nostalgia was a deep ache, a reminder of the loss that still haunted Theo every day.
He reached up and gripped the front pocket of his shirt, feeling the worn edges of a photograph tucked safely inside. It was a picture of his late brother, a reminder of the person who had shaped so much of his life. Theo carried it with him always, a talisman against the darkness that threatened to consume him.
Every night, he was haunted by the memory of that fateful day in eastern Canada, the day the earth had split apart in a magnitude 9 earthquake. Theo had been there, holding his brother's hand as they both dangled above the yawning chasm below. He could still feel the desperate grip of his brother's fingers, the weight of their shared fear pressing down on him.
In that moment of terror, his brother had made a choice. With a smile on his face and love in his eyes, he had let go of Theo's hand, sacrificing himself to save his older brother. As he fell into the darkness below, he had called out one last message, a message that echoed in Theo's mind like a haunting refrain.
"Stay alive, big bro."
Theo closed his eyes against the flood of emotion, his hand clutching the photograph tightly to his chest. His brother's words echoed in his mind, a solemn vow that Theo had carried with him ever since. It was a promise he intended to keep, no matter the challenges that lay ahead. As he opened his eyes once more, determination burned in his gaze. Whatever this strange game was, whatever trials it held in store, Theo was ready to face them head-on. With his brother's memory as his guiding light, he squared his shoulders and prepared to step into the unknown.
Without anyone left, Theo found himself in that moment selecting Warlock. Reminiscing the selfish play style of his late brother. Theo, without anyone to support had decided if he was about to play one last game then maybe it was his turn.
[What an interesting choice! ◕‿↼ I definitely thought you would pick Paladin or Druid. Hmmmmmm ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯ Well, I guess the game will begin shortly! Keep an eye up at the sky for when the counter hits 0! Good luck! (◕‿◕✿)]
Theo's head throbbed with an intensity that made him stagger, as if a freight train of knowledge had crashed into the deepest recesses of his mind. It was an overwhelming flood of information, a torrent of instinctive understanding that surged through him. An ear-splitting headache followed, each pulse of pain accompanied by new insights that he couldn't quite grasp the origin of, yet felt undeniably true—as though these truths had always been a part of him.
“Menu open,” Theo called out, his voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos in his mind. In response, the menu screen materialized once more before his eyes, its intricate details illuminating the dim surroundings.
[Name: Theo Level: 1 Warlock (Hexblade)
Str: 5 Dex: 1 Con: 6
Int: 3 Wis: 1 Cha: 3
HP: 13 MP: 3
Spells:
Eldritch Blast
Green-Flame Blade
Hellish Rebuke
Shield
Special:
Hexblade’s Curse
????]
Even without conscious memory of this new reality, Theo found himself intimately familiar with each spell listed. The Hexblade's powers were etched into his being, the same abilities he had strategized with his brother during their countless tabletop adventures. The memories flooded back, a bittersweet reminder of the bond they had shared over these imaginary battles.
With a dismissive gesture, Theo made the window vanish, blinking away the remnants of pain as he refocused on the ominous countdown looming in the sky. The countdown timer, indented into the heavens, ticked away with unyielding determination: 29 minutes and 10 seconds. What would happen when it reached zero? What sort of game had he unwittingly been thrust into? The unsettling presence of the unknown messenger lingered in his thoughts like a phantom, a nagging feeling that it knew more about him than it should.
A knot of unease settled in Theo's stomach as he wrestled with these thoughts, pushing them aside for now. He had a solemn duty to fulfill, a task that transcended the mysteries of this strange new world. Returning to the ruined house, he carefully retrieved the three lifeless bodies—one of a mother and her two boys, their lives snuffed out by the merciless hand of disaster.
One by one, Theo lowered them into the graves he had dug, his movements methodical yet filled with a quiet reverence. They deserved a peaceful resting place, even in this unfamiliar realm. As he covered the graves with dirt, he couldn't help but wonder about the lives they had lived, the dreams they had harbored before tragedy had struck.
The past decade had been a relentless onslaught of calamity, disasters growing in scale and frequency. Strange phenomena had become commonplace, and today was no exception. It was as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling, leaving behind a world fraught with uncertainty.
With the somber task completed, Theo stepped back, wiping sweat and dirt from his brow. He glanced up at the sky once more, the countdown now in its final seconds. A pang of sorrow and longing tugged at his heart as he thought of his brother, the one who had inspired his love for adventure and fantasy.
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Would his little brother be proud of the man he had become? Theo wondered, his mind drifting to the choices he had made. Would he have chosen the path of the Warlock, embracing the power of the Hexblade? Or would he have stuck with the Paladin, a steadfast protector and healer in their imaginary worlds?
As the countdown reached its inevitable conclusion, a new window materialized before Theo, unlike any he had seen before. Its ethereal glow beckoned, pulsing with unknown significance. Theo took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead, ready to face the next chapter of this inexplicable journey.
[Phase 1
Mission: Survive]
Along with the strange new message, the space in front of Theo began to ripple. As if the area itself started tearing away, a rift appeared before Theo. The rift took on an irregular, jagged shape, as if something immense and incomprehensible was trying to force itself through a fragile membrane. The edges seemed to pulsate slightly, like the quivering surface of water disturbed by a slight breeze, creating an illusion of movement even though the portal itself remained stationary over the newly dug gravesite.
As if a horrible joke was being played on the planet he watched in horror as a boney like hand, resembling ivory talons, gripped the edge of the portal’s ephemeral membrane. With deliberate determination a white skull emerged from the portal being pulled forward by the ivory claws. It’s form sliding gracefully through a shimmering barrier. It slowly materializes as if drawn by an unseen force. The scene before Theo unfolds with an air of eerie anticipation and an aura mystique, evoking a sense of both fascination and fear.
The ominous message to survive rang through Theo’s head and begrudgingly he knew what it meant.
With his shovel in hand, Theo called out to cast the first spell he would ever cast. “Green-Flame Blade.”
Theo was filled with awe as he felt an energy within emerge through his hand. A green flame from the palm of his hand erupted and danced around the hilt of the tool until it reached the metal blade of the shovel. Erupting in a bright green light, the shovel head now emanated with a green flame that wrapped completely around it while leaving the rest of the shovel undamaged.
The skeletons creaking of old bones and joints made a faint rattling of bones against each other. It sounded of a combination of dry and raspy noises that clicked and snapped with each movement as the skeleton rushed forward with the speed of a small child.
Theo aimed at the skeleton's head as it attempted to claw him. The shovel found its mark and a sickening crunch could be heard. The bone fractured under the weight of the metal head. It was a sharp and jarring sensation that left Theo sick to his stomach as the splinters of the bone spread outwards landing in the newly dug graves. The dazzling green-flame danced from the shovel towards the portal and struck a second skeleton as it pulled itself through the rippling surface of the portal.
Leaving the second skeleton’s head charred in black, more skeletons began to fully emerge into the world after it. The air seemed to grow colder around Theo. Carrying an ancient, long forgotten scent, a whispering breeze carried the echoes of distant chattering from the world beyond. Theo felt like he knew what needed to be done, but as more ivory skeleton’s pulled their way through the unworldly portal any awe was replaced with only fear.
Survive.
A chat box unlike the ones appeared abruptly before Theo. It featured an elegant design with a withering rose floral pattern highlighting a matte black background.
[The Queen of Hell invites you to conquer her dungeon.]
A similar chat box to the previous ones appeared this time.
[Mission: Conquer the Graveyard of the Fallen (Difficulty: Easy)
Reward: Special Gift from Queen of Hell
Description: Enter the portal and clear the dungeon.]
Theo watches as several more skeletons emerge from the portal. Now two more ominous, clattering abominations stood before the young man. He knew that the world had turned into some twisted reimagination of a classic tabletop game. Unsure what this strange Queen of Hell was, Theo was sure what he was going to do.
Suddenly a tingling sensation surrounded Theo’s outstretched hand. A chilling sense envelops his body as a strange eldritch force begins to orbit concentrating into the palm of his hand. An ancient force begins to manifest itself into an intangible orb of pure energy. With the knowledge to control this strange force, Theo speaks out “eldritch blast.” The energy around his hand springs forward like a water geyser. Exhausting all the energy gathered, a beam of pure energy struck the first skeleton in the skull. The silence that followed after was cut by the clattering of bones as the remains of the ivory creature collapsed to the ground. The skull pierced cleanly from the blast.
A similar green flame danced across the shovel until it illuminated the shovel blade with a green fiery glow. The second skeleton clawed at Theo slashing at his left inner thigh. The ivory blades dug into the flesh, slicing cleanly through his cargo pants.
[HP: 10/13]
Theo pivoted on his strong leg twisting his body, warping it at an angle to strike the skeleton with as much downwards thrust as possible. The blade sunk into the creature's upper spine. The skeleton burst into its many individual parts scattering themselves across the ground as if the unknown force that held the skeleton together suddenly vanished.
Now the portal remained as a jagged, ethereal tear in the air. Its frame twisted with dark iridescent tendrils with a sinister energy pulsating from the glossy surface. When Theo dipped his hand through the watery surface, the portal wrapped itself like a liquid around his hand. A strange force seemed to pull him to step closer. After crossing the portal’s threshold, a chilling gust of wind sweeps through him. Ruffling his clothes and sending a shiver down his spine. Theo looked around to the strange land he found himself in. A surreal and desolate land laid before him. A decrepit graveyard, with tombstones leaning at off angles and others shattered into rubble. Moss and ivy creep over the graves, and twisted skeletal trees cast long, gnarled shadows over the worn paths and withering grass. The air is thick with a musty, earthy scent and the sound of distant clattering rung through the air. The dim, spectral like light from the full moon above was shrouded by the dark clouds above. An eerie fog seemed to hug the earth tightly.
[Dungeon: Crypt of the Fallen (Easy)]
As if on queue, with the announcement appearing before Theo, several skeletal warriors began to materialize themselves through the grounded fog. Their skeletal forms polished ivory-white gleamed in the midnight light and glowed a ghostly light. Unlike the previous skeletons Theo faced, these ones were each adorned with fragments of corroded armor, remnants of a long-forgotten battle.
Their hollowed eye sockets, devoid of flesh or life, peered out from beneath cracked and battered helmets. The empty holes, a faint, spectral glow emanated like a flame deep within.
Theo debated his options as he counted four skeletal warriors approaching with echoes of cracking bones further promising more. He raised his hand and an ancient force he was becoming familiarized began to twist wildly until it felt like an orb of pure, ancient power was in his palm. Visualizing the power extending into the first warrior he turned it into reality. A beam manifesting from Theo’s palm struck the skeletal warrior in the head.
After recoiling from the blast, the skeleton struck by the eldritch blast marched forward. Each skeleton’s footsteps now echoed with an eerie resonance that sent shivers down Theo’s spine. The undeniable sense of relentless determination of a warrior who has transcended death and knew nothing else. With each step, the spectral warriors drew nearer, a harrowing reminder of the endless mysteries and terror now ahead of Theo.
A second eldritch blast struck true to the same skeleton. This time the ancient force subduing the ivory creature crumbled to the ground. Theo, only having faced slower moving skeletons, began to see a new skeleton emerge from the mysterious fog. With the tip of an arrow drawn back, this new ivory skeleton bore a quill filled with arrows strapped to its rib cages. The bony fingers holding back the bow string with an unknown power released the string. Remembering one of his spells, Theo raised his hands with his palm stretched out as if to signal stop. He imagined a power stopping the arrow and an ancient force began to wrap itself around the air around him. A wild ancient magic began to manifest itself like tendrils of flame. Before Theo realized he was surrounded by this strange magic and the arrow bounced off the barrier like it was nothing.
Before the barrier protecting him fell, Theo reached for his shovel and grabbed it remembering the dazzling green flame from before. The flames trickled down his hand like a river pouring into the blade of the shovel. Ablaze in a brilliant green fire, Theo swung at the first skeleton he saw. The flaming spade slammed itself into the creature's hip and caused the skeletal warrior to split in half.
A second arrow could be heard being plucked into flight. Barely getting a chance to see the flying weapon, it plunged itself into Theo’s right shoulder.
[HP: 6/13]
Absorbing the building ancient force within him, Theo imagined erupting the power through every inch of ivory on the skeletal ranger. Like a million little eruptions exploding at the same time all around it, the ranger exploded into a green flame with the use of Hellish Rebuke.
Theo noticed early that some spells he casted did not appear to use any of his mana like Eldritch Blast or Green-Flame Blade. However; when he used Shield earlier he noticed his mana depleted by one and now Hellish Rebuke causing him to lose another one.
[HP: 6/13]
[MP: 1/3]
Without giving Theo a chance to breathe, another skeletal creature emerged from the distant fog with its bones clattering and scraping against the earth with each stride. Dashing through the two other remaining skeletal warriors, the new addition fixated its empty sockets onto Theo with an unsettling intensity. A faint otherworldly light appeared to glow in the darkness. The bony limbs moved with a haunting synchrony. As they drew closer, Theo could see the jagged edges of the creature's bony claws gripping a set of daggers that shared the otherworldly glow behind the creature's empty sockets. With a sift and fluid motion, the skeleton sent the mysterious blade hurtling through the air, leaving a trail of shimmering light in its wake. The dagger spins and twirls with an uncanny accuracy directed towards Theo’s skull.
Time seems to slow as the dagger sails through the air, the unearthly glow growing brighter and more intense with each passing moment. The tension of the arcane energy that remains on the lands of this desolated graveyard sends a sudden shiver down the spin of Theo’s spine. A faint, ghostly whisper, ancient and ethereal, manifests into his head. At first, it’s barely a murmur, like a distant rustle of leaves in a long forest. But then, the whisper weaves itself into his consciousness with a haunting familiarity. The voice carries the weight of a millennium, a warning from a forgotten era echoes through time. The words are indistinct, yet the message is clear: “Move. Now.”
A sense of urgent washes of Theo and time seems to continue as normal. Dodging swiftly to his left, a sharp hiss passes Theo’s head, the dagger then embeds itself in a gravestone less than a meter from Theo’s head. The impact sends a spark of arcane energy that cascades with an otherworldly glow. Theo stood there, heart pounding and breathless, realizing the monstrous power of this new unknown creature. Its otherworldly dagger remains embedded into the gravestone, a stark reminder of the dangers Theo now faces.
The skeletal creature continues to stride towards. With a sudden and jarring motion, a dagger flashes in the creature's hand aimed towards Theo’s head. Time seemed to slow like the last time as Theo watched the glint of its razor-sharp-edge catch the moonlight with a deadly gleam. The dagger moves with a swift and purposeful intent and the forgotten voice begins to whisper into the mind of Theo again. The ancient voice with a haunting familiarity warns Theo with a strange message this time. “Swing. Behind.”
With a surge of determination, Theo heeds the warning and moves with intent. A quick intake of air, Theo moves guided by a combination of fear and trust in this ancient voice. Without hesitation, Theo pivots his heels, the shovel gripped tightly in his hands. The air seemed to thicken in anticipation as Theo swung the shovel with all his strength, not at the oncoming threat, but instead into the unknown behind him. Theo, remembering the thick green flames he can manifest, erupts the spade of the shovel as it cuts through the air with a swiftness born of primal instinct. The metal blade slicing into the darkness finds the skeletal creature that was just in front of you. Now where the previous dagger had laid embedded into the gravestone, the skeletal creature appeared to stare at Theo in shock and disbelief. It’s empty eye sockets had widened with a haunting expression of bewilderment, the dim light catching the gleam of the bones as the spade of Theo’s shovel laid embedded into the creature's skull. The bones that make up its visage seem to rattle slightly, as if trembling with the weight of the impossible. The jaw hung slack, a lower mandible unhinged in a grotesque mimicry of a gasp. Every bone in its skeletal frame seemed to now quiver with an otherworldly energy, as if struggling to both comprehend the unfathomable and move under the weight of the shovel pressing the skeleton towards the ground.
The once-menacing posture of the skeleton has wilted, its arms that were poised for attack now dropped limply at its sides. The dagger that had been brandished a moment before with an otherworldly glow now clattered to the ground, forgotten in the face of this inexplicable turn of events.
In this moment, the impossible had become reality for the once fearsome skeleton. The creature now reduced to a mere specter of confusion and astonishment as the glow slowly disappeared from the empty sockets where its eyes should be. With a hollow, chilling sound, the skeleton struggled to rattle what appeared to be final words. The clattering of its teeth as it struggled to create its voice.
A voice then echoes from the depths of the underworld, the skeleton begins to speak its haunting words. A whisper that cuts through the silence like a blade.
“In life… I could not… but in death… perhaps…”
The skeletal figure pauses, its bones trembling with greater effort to speak as the otherworldly glow continues to fade. The air is thick with the weight of its unfinished vendetta, the lingering desire for revenge was palpable in the foggy graveyard.
“Perhaps… in the afterlife… I shall have my… vengeance.”
Each word is spoken with a spectral certainty, a final declaration of the skeleton’s eternal quest for retribution. It raises a bony hand towards you, the gesture feeble yet filled with a malevolent intent that transcends the mortal realm.
As its form begins to fade, dissolving into a swirl of ethereal mist, the skeleton’s last words linger in the air like a haunting echo.
“Beware… he has more… greater enemies… they will find you… and end… what I could not…”
With that ominous warning the skeleton vanishes completely, leaving behind only a chill of its presence and the lingering sense of dread.
[You have slain the named skeleton, Harriot Bacholines]
[Bonus experience has been awarded!]
[Congratulations you have leveled up!]