[The Game isn't a simple simulation—it's a vast, pitiless Metaverse, where 100 levels stretch like endless nightmares, each one a universe unto itself, each a distorted reality. It exists not for amusement but for its own cruel purpose: to be played. The players? Mere specks in the grand design, lesser beings thrown into a pit of torment with no promise of escape. Here, power is the only currency, and the price of weakness is paid in suffering and blood.

There is no justice in this place. There is no balance, no fairness—only the ruthless hierarchy of strength. If you lack power, you will be torn apart, begging for an end that will not come. If you possess power, you are only a target, prey to those who sit above, ready to crush any spark of defiance beneath the weight of their might. Every step is a battle, every breath a struggle against forces that care nothing for your existence.

Survival demands more than strength; it requires endurance, the relentless drive to claw your way out of the abyss. Your enemies are not just foes; they are barriers, the living embodiment of the cosmos that seeks to break you. You must tear them down, seize every fragment of power, and force your way up the chain. But to rise is to cross entire realities, to conquer worlds that defy understanding. Each level is a new universe, a new hell, demanding everything you have and more.

The ascent is an endless war against the fabric of existence itself. It is not about winning but enduring, outlasting the madness that seeks to consume you. Each level is another universe shattered, another reality bent to your will. But there are no laurels here, no triumphs—only the cold, grinding climb to the top, where the line between victory and survival blurs into nothingness.

This Metaverse doesn't craft heroes; it carves deities from the bones of the damned. To reach the peak is not to win but to transcend, to become the very thing that once oppressed you. The Game does not seek champions; it seeks gods. Those who rise do so on the ruins of a thousand broken worlds, their ascension a testament to the unyielding spirit that refuses to bow.

At the summit, there are no celebrations, no absolutions—only the grim acknowledgment of what it took to get there. The peak is not a prize but a throne built on despair, a cold and empty place where gods are forged not from victory, but from the relentless, unforgiving crucible of a multiverse that devours all but the strongest.]

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I woke up as dawn's first light began to creep over the horizon, marking the start of a new day. The messenger had already given me a detailed explanation, despite promising only a summary of the main points. The reality of this world, even if it's just a dummy level, is harsh and grim. I could see now why the girls had been so concerned.

I turned to the messenger. "When will they be transferred to the main level?"

"It's their choice," it replied. "But you cannot be transferred to the main level until you develop your Rune."

The Rune. A stone or core that embodies one's abilities or power. The messenger had told me that it wasn't something you summoned. Instead, you sought it out, and only when it deemed you worthy would it reveal itself. You had to search for it, yearn for it, and prove yourself deserving.

"And if I manage to find my Rune?" I pressed.

"Then you will need to complete basic tasks until you are considered fit for the game."

"And if I fail to find my Rune?"

"You will remain here, in the World of Beginnings."

"Are there others who failed to obtain their Rune and are still trapped here?"

"Yes," the messenger confirmed. "They are immortal while they stay here. Yet, most eventually choose to reproduce with their partners."

"And what then?"

"Reproducing here results in the loss of immortality. The child born in this world signifies a transition to a mortal existence."

"So, they effectively die," I mused.

"In a sense," the messenger acknowledged. "They live out their lives as ordinary humans, free from the eternal cycle of this place."

So we still have a choice, I thought as I saw the group sleeping. A thought crossed my mind. Rob and Dan were still awake. I wondered if they needed food in this world.

"No, they do not," the messenger replied. "In fact, they would remain alive even if they slept for eternity."

A faint smile touched my lips. I had countless questions swirling in my mind, but I hesitated to ask the messenger. Not because I was scared. But because I wondered if the messenger is truly my ally. In this world info could be the key. What was that shadow in the abyss? And what was meant by the notion of mixing my soul with others? I was the one who wasn't supposed to be here, it seemed.

"Well then, goodbye, my fellow classmates," I whispered, feeling a pang of finality. I needed to focus on finding my Rune.

I started my Journey.