Chapter 1: Glitch in the System

Elliot Fenridge couldn’t breathe.

His chest felt tight, each breath coming in shallow, frantic gasps. His heart thundered in his ears, drowning out the distant hum of traffic and the usual cacophony of the city outside. He sat slumped on the edge of his couch, staring at the glowing screen of his phone. The words were still there, haunting him: Call Disconnected.

His fingers tightened around the phone, knuckling white with frustration. This wasn’t the first time. Hell, it wasn’t even the tenth. But it always felt like the first—every conversation a new door slammed shut in his face. Every promise of a payment plan, every “we’ll be in touch,” just felt like empty words at this point.

“Final notice, Mr. Fenridge. Your account has been referred to as collections.” The voice on the other end had been so cold, so impersonal. Not even a hint of sympathy for the fact that his world was crumbling.

Elliot sank deeper into the couch, running his hands through his hair. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been sitting here like this—staring at the phone, at the stack of bills he hadn’t touched in weeks. Time seemed to stretch and warp in his mind, but the weight of the bills, the constant pressure, it felt like it was closing in around him.

Outside, the faint sounds of the city filtered through the cracked window. The buzz of neon signs. The wail of distant sirens. The hum of life that felt so far out of reach. Inside, everything felt stale, stagnant.

The stack of unopened letters on the coffee table mocked him. PAST DUE stamped in red, bold letters. Rent. Utilities. The credit card he’d maxed out long ago. The most pressing one, though, was the eviction notice from his landlord—who, after months of patience, had sent him a final warning.

If he didn’t pay within the next few days, it was over.

There was no way he could come up with that kind of money.

“God, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Elliot whispered to the empty room, but no one had an answer. No one was coming to help him. He was alone in this mess, just like always.

He grabbed the bottle of cheap whiskey on the counter, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig. It burned as it went down, and for a brief moment, he let the sting of it ground him. This was his reality. A life full of empty promises, empty bottles, and a slowly accumulating mountain of debt.

His phone buzzed again, jarring him from his dark thoughts. He picked it up, expecting another number he didn’t recognize, but instead, the name Jake Renner flashed across the screen.

Jake. That was a name he hadn’t seen in months. They used to be close—college roommates who spent more time raiding dungeons together than studying for finals. Jake was the type who always seemed to land on his feet, the kind of guy who could walk into any situation and come out ahead.

Elliot hesitated, his thumb hovering over the Answer button. The last thing he wanted was a conversation with someone who had his life all together while Elliot was barely keeping his head above water. But Jake had always been the type to push—never taking no for an answer. He answered the call.

“Yeah?” His voice was flat, uninviting.

“Elliot! Finally, man,” Jake’s voice came through, lively and full of energy. So full of life.

“Been busy,” Elliot said flatly.

“Still at that warehouse job?”

Elliot bristled. “Not really. Hours got cut.”

Jake was quiet for a beat, and Elliot could hear the faint hum of static on the line. “Damn. Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elliot muttered.

“Well, hey, maybe I can help. Have you heard of Aelorith Online?”

Elliot frowned, stirring the noodles absently. “The VR game? What about it?”

Jake’s voice practically vibrated with excitement. “It’s not just a game. It’s the game. Full-dive neural integration, open world, player-driven economy. It’s insane, man.”

Elliot sighed. “Jake, I don’t have time for games right now.”

“That’s what I’m saying—it’s not just a game. It’s got this Play-for-Profit system. Real money. I’ve been playing during early access, and I’ve already cleared fifteen hundred bucks.”

Elliot’s hand froze mid-stir. “Fifteen hundred?”

“Yeah! And I’m not even one of the hardcore players. Some of these guys are making triple that. The economy’s nuts because everyone’s still building their characters. You get in early, and you can carve out a spot before the competition ramps up.”

Elliot set the noodles down. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Jake said. “It’s run by AetherCorp. Their whole reputation’s tied to this thing. It’s not a scam, man.”

Elliot looked at the neural dock on his desk, its faint glow almost accusatory. He’d bought it with the last of his savings, hoping it might open doors, but it had sat unused for weeks.

“I’ve got a Mark II dock,” he said finally.

“Oof, retro gear. But it’ll work. You won’t get the fancy haptics, but you’ll get in.”

“I don’t know,” Elliot muttered.

“Look,” Jake said, his tone softening. “I know things have been rough for you. But you’ve got the skills. You used to dominate in those old games we played. This is the same thing, but with a paycheck attached. You can do this, man. Just… think about it.”

Elliot ended the call, but Jake’s words lingered, echoing in the silent room. The phone felt heavy in his hand as if it carried the weight of all his failed attempts at fixing his life. He stared at the neural dock on the desk, the faint blue glow pulsing softly in the darkness. It seemed to mock him, its potential promising so much, yet here he was—faced with the same crushing reality.

The weight of the decision pressed down on him. He was standing at a crossroads, staring down two starkly different paths. One was the familiar one—grinding away at a dead-end job, scraping by, just managing to stay afloat. It was a path that led to nowhere, but at least he knew what to expect. The other path? It was unknown, uncertain, a gamble. Aelorith Online might offer him a way out, a way to finally make something of himself, but it also had the potential to swallow him whole. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t even sure if he had the energy or courage to dive into another gamble.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up again. He had always been skeptical of these games, especially ones with a "Play-for-Profit" system. It sounded too good to be true, like some scheme to get desperate people to spend their money in the hope of getting rich. But Jake wasn’t wrong. Aelorith Online wasn’t just a game; it was a world, an ecosystem where people could make real money. Real money. And Jake, as carefree as he was, had already cleared over fifteen hundred bucks. It was enough to catch Elliot’s attention, but not enough to make him believe it was all as simple as Jake made it sound.

He leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. "Just think about it," Jake had said, but how could he not? Every day was a reminder of his failures, his broken promises to himself. The stack of overdue bills. The eviction notice. The gnawing, constant dread that he was running out of time to fix everything. Aelorith Online might be his last chance to get ahead. It was his ticket to a different life, one where he could finally pay off his debts and stop living in fear.

But the reality was, he didn’t have the luxury of time. If he didn’t find something soon, everything would come crashing down. AetherCorp was practically handing out money, if you played the game right. But what if he couldn’t figure it out? What if he got caught up in the system and ended up losing everything, including his pride?

Jake’s voice again, echoing in his head: “You used to dominate in those old games we played. This is the same thing, but with a paycheck attached.”

Elliot exhaled slowly. He’d always been good at games—hell, he used to be great at them. He had a knack for strategy, for thinking several steps ahead. The games he played before were nothing like this, though. They were simpler, and the stakes were just for bragging rights. Aelorith Online was different. The risks were higher, but the rewards could be just as big. Maybe bigger.

He glanced back at the neural dock on the desk, his fingers itching to hook it back up to his implant. The dock was the last piece of the puzzle. The only piece he had left.

It’s just a game, he told himself. It’s a way out. A means to an end. But even as he tried to convince himself, a part of him felt uneasy. What if it wasn’t that simple? What if diving into this world didn’t solve his problems, but just created new ones?

He leaned forward, running his hand over the surface of the desk, his fingers brushing against the worn edges. The soft hum of the dock was almost calming, like a pulse, steady and constant. It called to him, offering the possibility of something more.

But was it a risk he was willing to take? Would he be able to navigate the system of Aelorith Online without falling victim to it? The idea of making money by playing the game felt intoxicating, but how deep would he have to dive to survive in that world?

Elliot reached for the dock, a decision forming in his mind. Screw it. He had nothing left to lose. It was now or never. At least in the game, he could control something. The outside world, the bills, the rent—he couldn’t control any of that. But this, he could control. He’d give it a shot, see where it took him. He had no other options.

With a resigned sigh, he grabbed the dock, his fingers trembling slightly. As he connected it behind his ear, the faint vibration of the sync sent a jolt through his mind. The interface lit up, bright and smooth, a virtual doorway opening before him.

The countdown clock began ticking down: 4 hours, 37 minutes, 21 seconds.

Elliot leaned back in his chair and stared at the clock. He still had some time, and he wasn’t going to waste it. There were a few things he needed to sort out before launch, namely the race, and class he’d choose. This wasn’t just about picking something that sounded cool—this decision would shape his entire journey in Aelorith Online. Elliot didn’t have the luxury of making a wrong choice, especially considering the stakes.

The forums were his first stop. He opened the browser, navigating to the Aelorith Online community boards. These were where the real players gathered, sharing insights and strategies. Elliot wasn’t just looking for general advice—he needed specifics, the kind of tips that would give him a head start in the game’s competitive and expansive world.

The faction choice was crucial. It wasn’t just about joining a group of like-minded players; it determined how Elliot would interact with the world, the resources he could access, and the overall tone of his experience. But more than that, it dictated his long-term viability in the game. After all, Aelorith Online was a living, breathing world. Some factions had more opportunities for profit, while others focused on survival, dominance, or divine purpose.

The Wildborn Dominion was a faction that celebrated nature and primal power. The races here, like the Beastkin, Highlanders, and Wildfolk, were closely tied to the wilderness, thriving in harsh environments. The Beastkin were like werewolves—tough, physical creatures capable of incredible strength and agility. The Highlanders, with their bull-like horns and tough, stocky builds, were known for their brute force, while the Wildfolk—fox-like humanoids—were agile, stealthy, and adept at surviving in hostile environments. These races embodied a survivalist ethos, relying on natural power and fierce combat prowess to carve out their place in the world.

However, as Elliot scrolled through the forums, he saw just how many players had already flocked to the Wildborn Dominion. They were drawn to the faction’s rugged nature and aggressive gameplay, making it one of the most overpopulated factions in the game. While there were definitely opportunities to profit from the Wildborn’s physical strength and crafting capabilities, Elliot realized the market would quickly become saturated. If he chose this path, he’d be competing against thousands of others, all trying to grab the same resources. The last thing he needed was to get caught in an overcrowded race to the bottom.

Next, he turned to The Arcane Dominion. The Arcane Dominion was a faction built around knowledge, intellect, and mastery of the mystical. This faction was home to the Bloodborn, Gremlocks, and shadowborne. The Bloodborn were ethereal beings with glowing, arcane energy coursing through their veins. Their ability to regenerate mana at rapid speeds and wield powerful fire-based magic made them formidable spellcasters, capable of laying waste to enemies with explosive force. But Elliot wasn’t drawn to their fiery style. The Gremlocks, on the other hand, were small, cunning humanoids, gifted in invention, crafting, and manipulation of technology. Their mechanical prowess and affinity for tinkering made them ideal for players who wanted to dominate the economy through invention and crafting. This appealed to Elliot, but Gremlocks were often used by players focusing on the economic side of things, which meant the competition would be fierce. He’d be up against players who specialized in creating powerful items for profit.

And then, there was the shadowborne—Elliot’s intended race. The shadowborne were beings infused with cosmic energy, able to bend shadows to their will. They were stealthy, manipulative, and built for covert operations. They didn’t rely on brute force or flashy magic. Instead, their abilities revolved around subterfuge, evasion, and control over their environment. The shadowborne were perfect for someone like Elliot, who wanted to fly under the radar and manipulate the systems of the game for profit. What made them even more enticing was their natural ability to control and manipulate shadows—ideal for working unseen, making deals from behind the scenes, and avoiding unnecessary conflict.

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However, the Arcane Dominion was also one of the most popular factions. Elliot knew there would be tons of competition here, too. But the shadowborne’s potential for creating chaos behind the scenes was too tempting. If he could leverage the power of stealth and subtle manipulation, he might just be able to carve out a unique niche for himself—one that was harder for the average player to dominate.

Lastly, The Celestial Dominion was a faction built on ideals of purity, light, and divine justice. The races here, such as the Lunarborn, Scalekin, and Storm Hearts, were closely tied to celestial power. The Lunarborn were ethereal, high-elven beings with the ability to manipulate light and the stars, wielding powerful celestial magic. The Scaled Kin were reptilian humanoids, known for their strong combat abilities and their connection to the elemental forces of the earth. The Storm Hearts, with their immense size and control over lightning and storms, embodied the faction’s raw power and divine might.

Elliot didn’t feel drawn to the Celestial Dominion. The faction’s rigid, idealistic nature seemed stifling. While their power was undeniable, it wasn’t the kind of gameplay Elliot wanted. He preferred flexibility, something that would allow him to manipulate the system without the weight of rigid, moral authority guiding his every move.

After much consideration, Elliot decided on shadowborne. These beings were naturally inclined toward stealth, deception, and manipulation. The race was perfect for someone like him who wanted to remain unseen while slowly exploiting the systems of the game. Shadowborne were capable of moving through the shadows undetected, making them perfect for players who wanted to avoid conflict and gather intel. This was exactly the kind of gameplay Elliot needed.

The Bloodborn had some appeal due to their ability to wield powerful fire-based spells, but they were a bit too in-your-face for Elliot’s tastes. He wasn’t interested in attracting unnecessary attention. The Gremlocks were certainly tempting for their crafting abilities, but he needed a race that could operate in the shadows, not just build things.

Now, it was time to choose a class. Elliot's eyes flicked back to the class options, each one offering a different set of skills, strengths, and strategies. He wasn’t looking for a class that would make him stand out—he needed something that would allow him to control his environment, exploit the game’s systems, and stay out of sight.

Elliot needed to consider his options carefully, each class offering a distinct approach to the game. He knew he couldn’t afford to pick the wrong one. Aelorith Online was a complex world, and his strategy needed to be just as sharp. With a steady breath, he started scrolling through the class options.

First up were the Death Binders. Masters of dark magic, these players wielded powerful two-handed weapons or dual-wielded maces and swords, channeling necromantic forces to drain life and summon destructive power. The more he read, the more he realized this class wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to be in the thick of combat, drawing attention with powerful, aggressive magic. Deathbinders were about raw power, raising the dead, and freezing enemies in place, but the playstyle felt too exposed for someone like Elliot. He wasn’t interested in getting up close and personal with enemies or relying on the chaos of undead forces to fight for him. Without a second thought, he skipped past the specializations.

The Trackers class came next, and this one had potential. They excelled in ranged combat, survival, and stealth, with the ability to summon animal companions to assist in battle. But as Elliot read on, he quickly realized that the idea of relying on an animal companion wasn’t something he could work with. He needed to be self-sufficient, not dependent on a creature to get through the game. While the Sharpshooter specialization might have suited someone who enjoyed long-range combat, Elliot didn’t want to be tied to a bow or crossbow. He was after something more flexible—something that could keep him in control from the shadows. He skimmed over the specializations without dwelling on them. The Trackers class simply wasn’t the right fit.

The Magi class piqued his interest next, but only for a moment. Magi were arcane spellcasters who manipulated elemental forces—fire, ice, and even time. But as Elliot read through the description, he realized they didn’t suit his strategy. Magi were powerful, yes, but their reliance on explosive spells made them vulnerable. He needed a class that could keep a low profile. Magic, especially the kind Magi wielded, would attract attention, and that was the last thing he needed. The more he thought about it, the more it became clear that Magi wasn't the right choice. He quickly skipped over the specializations and moved on.

The Wayfarers class was next. Agile martial artists who focused on unarmed combat and elemental magic. As he read through the description, Elliot found himself intrigued, at first. Wayfarers were quick, efficient fighters who could combine physical strikes with elemental powers. But as he continued reading, he realized that the reliance on elemental magic—especially lightning or storm magic—wasn’t what he was after. The speed and evasiveness were appealing, but Elliot didn’t want to summon the elements to his aid. He wanted to remain unseen, manipulate the game from behind the scenes. Without much hesitation, he passed on the Wayfarers and skipped over the specializations.

Elliot’s eyes then moved to the Devout Protectors. Holy warriors who dedicated themselves to defending their allies with divine magic and shields. They wielded heavy armor and one-handed weapons, built for taking damage and keeping their team alive. But Elliot wasn’t here to protect anyone. He wasn’t interested in getting bogged down by the need to shield others or use divine magic to smite enemies. Devout Protectors were heavy-duty fighters, focused on defense and support, and that wasn’t the role Elliot had in mind. He skimmed past the specializations, knowing immediately they weren’t for him.

The Mystics caught his attention next. These spellcasters blended both offensive and healing magic, balancing the destructive power of arcane magic with restorative spells. The Voidweaver specialization, which focused on shadow magic, did stand out. Voidweavers could drain life and manipulate enemies, using dark forces to their advantage. But as Elliot read more, he realized that even though this sounded appealing, it still didn’t offer the kind of subtlety he was looking for. Mystics were too reliant on magic, and magic could be traced. He moved past the specializations and kept reading.

Then came the Shadewalkers. The description alone caught Elliot’s eye—stealthy assassins who specialized in poison, subterfuge, and quick strikes with light weapons. This was more like it. The Shadewalkers class was all about staying hidden, using agility and cunning to outmaneuver enemies and strike when least expected. Shadowfang, with its poison and stealth, felt like a perfect fit for someone like Elliot. But it was the Nightveil specialization that truly spoke to him—Nightveil blended shadow magic with stealth, allowing for devastating strikes from the shadows, weakening enemies without ever being seen. This was exactly what he needed. He could avoid detection, manipulate situations, and eliminate threats quietly. He lingered on the specializations for a moment longer, already knowing that this was the path he was going to take.

The Elementalists class didn’t hold his attention for long. While they wielded powerful elemental forces—lightning, fire, and earth—their focus on overt damage and flashy spells wasn’t aligned with his strategy. The Flamebinder and Tempest Caller specializations were both built for high-damage output, but Elliot wasn’t interested in leaving a trail of destruction. He needed something quieter, something more subtle. The Elementalists weren’t going to be part of his strategy, so he moved on quickly.

The Summoners were next. Masters of dark and elemental magic, Summoners could call upon demons and other creatures to fight by their side. The idea of summoning creatures like Shadowbeasts or Hellforged Titans to do his bidding was intriguing, but Elliot realized that relying on summoned forces wasn’t part of his plan. He needed control, not dependence on creatures. Summoners were about summoning, not manipulating from the shadows, and with a quick glance at their specializations, he dismissed the class entirely.

The final class to consider was the Sentinels. Heavy armor, shields, and powerful melee strikes made them natural defenders. But Elliot didn’t want to be a tank or a defender. Sentinels were built for those who wanted to stand at the forefront of the battle, taking hits and protecting others. That wasn’t Elliot’s style. He didn’t want to be out in the open. With one last glance at the specializations, he moved on.

Elliot leaned back, feeling more certain of his choice. The Shadewalkers class had everything he needed: agility, stealth, and the ability to strike from the shadows. With his shadowborne race chosen, it was time to lock in his decision. He could manipulate the game, avoid notice, and find a way to thrive in Aelorith Online without ever stepping into the limelight. This was his path. Quiet. Calculated. Unseen.

With a final glance at the clock ticking down, Elliot had made up his mind. His heart raced, but he held firm, determined to make this work. The countdown timer flashed with just 2 hours, 18 minutes, and 45 seconds remaining.

His hands hovered over the keyboard, the weight of the decision settling in. There was no turning back now.

Time passed quickly. The next few hours felt like a blur as Elliot prepared for his entry into the game world. He paced his apartment, checking the clock obsessively. The closer it got to the moment he would finally connect with Aelorith Online, the more nervous he became. He was about to step into a completely new world—one where the only limits would be his imagination and cunning.

The clock on his screen flickered to 8:48 PM, and Elliot felt his heart skip a beat.

It was time.

Elliot grabbed the neural dock from the table, feeling the weight of it in his hands. He hesitated for a moment, staring at it. He wasn’t ready to leave his real-world troubles behind—nothing could prepare him for the adventure that awaited. But he had no choice. If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to make it out of this mess he’d gotten himself into, he needed this.

With a deep breath, Elliot placed the dock behind his ear, and the world around him began to distort. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the system to sync with his implant, feeling the familiar hum of the neural connection as it pulsed through his skull. It was always a strange feeling—an almost disembodied sensation, like his consciousness was being tugged from one reality into another.

The screen in front of him flickered once more, and the familiar logo of Aelorith Online appeared. Forge Your Fate. Rewrite Reality. The words seemed to vibrate through his chest, resonating like a promise. Something stirred deep inside him, a mix of anticipation and fear. This was it. The world was about to change, the weight of his decisions now fully in motion.

“Welcome to Aelorith Online,” the soothing voice of the system echoed in his ears, almost melodic in its calm. “Please prepare for login.”

A sudden, overwhelming rush of sensation took over.

It wasn’t like the typical, abrupt loading screens he was used to. This felt different—real. The world around him began to shift, slowly at first, like a fog rolling across the ground. It was as though the landscape was being painted before his eyes, slowly forming, piece by piece. His feet—if he had any—were weightless, hovering above the ground as the land rose beneath him. He could feel the pull of the world drawing him deeper, grounding him into it, though he still couldn’t see his body. There was no reflection, no form to identify.

But the world... the world was alive.

He could feel the cool, fresh air wash over him, like a gentle breeze brushing against his face. The scent of earth, fresh grass, and the faint, sweet fragrance of distant flowers filled his senses. It was vivid, richer than any digital representation he'd ever seen. The smell was so real, so immersive. His senses tingled as the environment fully took shape, the sounds of nature softly filling the space—birds chirping from afar, the rustling of trees in the distance. It was as though the entire world was breathing alongside him.

The ground beneath his feet began to solidify. He could feel the soft, damp grass underfoot, pressing lightly against his feet as though it were real. He bent down instinctively to touch the ground, but when he glanced down, there was nothing there. No hands. No feet. Nothing. Just the vast expanse of the world that had come alive around him.

A chill ran up his spine. He tried to focus again, expecting to see his body, but there was only an odd void, like looking at a canvas that had yet to be filled in. He couldn’t see himself. It was disorienting. Was he supposed to be a ghost here? A floating consciousness? He couldn’t even feel his limbs or his torso. The sensations of the world—the air, the grass, the sounds—were all there, but the body he was meant to inhabit was still absent.

This isn’t right, Elliot thought. Where’s my body?

He shook the thought away and focused on the screen in front of him. The race and class selection had appeared. A large, translucent menu floated in front of him, shimmering with a faint ethereal glow. He was here to create a character, after all. His eyes scanned the options—race, appearance, class, and a long list of customizations for his avatar. He felt the pressure of time begin to tick in the back of his mind, knowing that every second here was a step into the new life he was about to forge.

Race selection came first. He had already made his decision. shadowborne. The beings of cosmic energy. Masters of shadows, deception, and stealth. They lived in the spaces between light and dark, manipulating the world from unseen corners. He’d chosen them because they suited his needs perfectly. They didn’t need brute force or flashy spells. They thrived by being unseen, unnoticed—just like he needed to be.

But as his hand moved toward the shadowborne option on the screen, a strange tension crept into his mind. The choice was locked in, but he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the decision. This wasn’t just about playing a game anymore. It was about escaping. About building a life here. Every detail mattered.

He selected shadowborne and moved to the next screen.

Elliot’s gaze flicked to the array of options now laid out before him. This was the part where he could truly mold his new self. He could adjust the smallest of details—the height, the build, the facial features—all of it was within his grasp. He leaned in, his fingers brushing over the holographic sliders.

For a moment, he hesitated. His first instinct was to create someone imposing, someone that would stand out. But he quickly shook that idea away. His shadowborne needed to be someone who blended in, someone whose presence could go unnoticed. He didn’t want power screaming from every angle. He wanted subtlety. He wanted to be a shadow in the crowd.

He adjusted the height slightly—taller than average, but not too imposing. His shadowborne would be lean, but strong. He didn’t need to look overly muscular; he needed to look capable, like someone who could slip into and out of any situation without drawing attention. He softened his features, choosing a sharp yet calm face—eyes slightly narrowed, jaw strong but not too angular.

As he worked through the options, his focus zeroed in on the skin tone. The shadowborne were unique—deep, dark skin with an otherworldly glow. He adjusted the hue to a near-obsidian shade, and the veins of light running beneath the surface of the skin began to shimmer faintly, mimicking the stars in the night sky. It was subtle, but beautiful in its own way. Just the right amount of ethereal presence without being too overt. His avatar was complete. A perfect blend of grace and power, poised to blend into the darkness when needed.

But again, the unsettling thought crept in. Still nobody. Still no reflection.

The world around him was fully formed, yet he couldn’t feel himself in it. No matter how much he adjusted the sliders, the form that was supposed to inhabit this world felt distant, unreal. He was no longer sure where his mind ended and the world began. The disconnection gnawed at him, but there was no time to dwell on it. His body would be there, eventually. For now, his shadowborne would be ready.

Once his race and appearance were confirmed, Elliot felt a surge of expectation. It was time to choose his name. This was the moment where his identity would fully take shape, where he would create a new persona in this world.

He stared at the empty text field, feeling the weight of the decision. This was his chance to craft something entirely new, something that would define him in Aelorith Online. His name would be his legacy here, something others would recognize. He didn’t want something too grand or too obvious. He needed something simple, yet mysterious—a name that would let him slip through the cracks, unnoticed, yet still hold a quiet strength.

Vyre.

It felt right. Simple, strong, and just a bit enigmatic. It would give him the freedom to move like a shadow, unnoticed but powerful. He pressed the confirmation button, locking in his name. Vyre—his new identity in this world.

With his name secured, Elliot’s eyes drifted back to the class selection. He had made his choice: Shadewalkers. Stealthy assassins, masters of poison, and quick strikes—exactly what he needed to thrive in this world without drawing attention. But as his finger hovered over the Shadewalker option, the screen flickered.

“Error: Class Unavailable.”

He blinked, confused. This wasn’t right. The Shadewalker class should be available. He tried again, selecting a different class just to test it.

The same message appeared.

“Error: Class Unavailable.”

Frustration bubbled up inside him, but he forced himself to calm down. He wasn’t going to let this glitch derail everything. His shadowborne race was locked in. His avatar was ready. The class issue could wait.

Elliot took a deep breath and pressed Confirm. The world around him seemed to solidify once more, the landscape becoming more real, more vivid. He could feel it now, more than before—the connection to the world was deepening. And though he could now see his body, he could feel himself becoming part of the world.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. For now, it had to be enough. The class issue could wait.

The world was waiting for him to shape it.