The city bustled around him as he navigated the sidewalk near San Pedro Square. A woman struggled with her shopping bags outside a grocery store, a street vendor shouted over the sizzling of carne asada on the grill, and a teenager snapped a selfie in front of a mural-covered wall. The mix of old and new, of historic buildings overshadowed by sleek glass towers, made downtown San Jose feel both vibrant and impersonal. It was all routine. Just another day.
Lately, though, that routine felt emptier. Lorcan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing—a spark of purpose, a reason to care beyond the next paycheck. His adoptive mother used to say he had too much potential to waste it on “the grind.” He had laughed it off back then, but now, her words echoed in his mind like a song he couldn’t forget. Perhaps it was because of her recent death of ovarian cancer. With her gone, his only living relative was his adoptive brother and he had moved to San Francisco two months ago, leaving Lorcan feeling more alone and isolated than he ever had before. He wished he had someone he could talk to about it but even if he had, he was never very good at expressing his inner feelings.
The cracked pavement blurred under his feet as he trudged toward his apartment near St. James Park. His back ached, his mind was foggy, and all he could think about was the cold beer waiting for him in the fridge. Escape—that was the goal. A few hours lost in his game, a few drinks, and maybe he’d forget how stagnant his life had become.
But as he crossed Market Street, the air changed. Something was wrong.
The usual noise of the city—car horns, conversation, the rhythmic beeping of crosswalk signals—seemed to dull, as if someone had turned the volume down on reality. The chatter of pedestrians faded into hushed murmurs. Lorcan glanced around and saw others reacting the same way. People frowned at their phones, shaking them in frustration. A businessman muttered curses while jabbing at his screen. A teenager let out a sharp groan as their device flickered and died.
Lorcan pulled out his phone. The battery icon flashed erratically, and his screen glitched before freezing completely. "Great," he muttered, shoving it back into his pocket. Around him, confusion turned into unease. The air felt thick, charged with an unnatural stillness.
"Just great," he muttered again, shoving the phone back into his pocket. Around him, others were doing the same. Some frowned at their screens, others exchanged bewildered glances. A man in a business suit shook his head in frustration, repeatedly pressing buttons as if willing his phone to work . A teenager cursed loudly, shaking their device like it might jolt back to life. The mood on the street shifted from annoyed confusion to something heavier—an unspoken tension hanging in the air.
The streets, once bustling with energy, suddenly felt eerily still, as if the air itself had thickened and pressed down on everyone. It was as though time itself had slowed. Cars abruptly stopped moving all at once.
The temperature dropped, and the hairs on the back of Lorcan’s neck prickled. He glanced up at the sky, searching for any sign of what was happening. That was when it happened.
The sky split.
It began as a jagged tear, like a great crack in glass, stretching across the heavens in a slow, deliberate motion. The crack pulsed with an unnatural light, glowing in shades of violet, crimson, and green. These colors twisted and spiraled, impossible to describe, as they churned and danced in the rift that had appeared in the sky. The air grew heavy, as if a storm was gathering, but the stillness persisted.
Lorcan felt his heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just the strange colors or the air thick with tension—it was the feeling of something deeply wrong, something primal, that crept up his spine. As he stood frozen in place, trying to comprehend the scene unfolding above him, a haunting melody carried on the wind. It was distant at first, barely perceptible, like the faint hum of a lullaby that was far too slow, far too eerie, for comfort.
Then the words appeared, hovering in the space before Lorcan’s eyes as though summoned from thin air. They glowed with a bluish-white light, casting an unsettling glow on the faces of the people around him. It took a moment for his mind to process them, to make sense of what was happening.
[WORLD SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
The notification blinked into existence before Lorcan’s eyes, floating as if projected from thin air. He froze, heart racing, as lines of glowing text followed:
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
[Welcome to the Age of the Fae.] ? The Veil has been lifted, and the Eternal Court wishes to claim Earth as its newest Domain. ? The next year will determine humanity’s fate.
[Rules of the Conquest:]
- The Eternal Court will send waves of challengers, each more powerful than the last.
- Humans who survive may grow stronger through the System and its rewards.
- If humanity still controls Earth in one year, the Fae will withdraw, and Earth will remain free.
- Failure to defend Earth will result in humanity’s enslavement under the Eternal Court.
[Good luck, mortals. The games begin now.]
Lorcan’s breath was shallow, his chest tight. Around him, others were reading the same notifications. Some had dropped their phones, their faces drained of color, their mouths agape in disbelief. A man collapsed in the middle of the street, his body jerking and writhing in spasms. For a moment, no one moved. Then, something horrifying began to emerge from his chest. Vines shot up from his skin, twisting and curling, as if the very earth was breaking free from within him. Crimson flowers bloomed from the vines, spreading across his body like a grotesque wreath. His body convulsed one final time before he fell still, and the sound of his last, pained breath was drowned out by an eerie, melodic laugh that seemed to echo from the rift above.
Lorcan stumbled backward, his heart pounding in his chest as panic set in. The city around him had transformed from a place of normalcy to something alien, something suffocating. And it was only just beginning.
From the rift above, a swarm of small, shadowy figures began to descend. They appeared at first glance to be nothing more than harmless pixies, small and delicate, with wings that fluttered in the air. But as they drew closer, their true nature became clear.
The first creature landed on the street with a soft, haunting flutter of its wings. It was diminutive in size, no larger than a child’s doll, but its presence was far from innocent. Its body was sickly gray, the skin stretched thin over brittle bones, like a marionette abandoned for too long. Its eyes—if they could even be called eyes—were black voids, empty and soulless. Its ears were ragged, torn in places, as though the very act of flying had frayed them beyond recognition. And its mouth, stretched wide in a grotesque grin, revealed rows of mismatched teeth—each one far too large for the fragile mouth that held them. The thing seemed to take pleasure in showing them off, as if its very appearance was a source of delight.
In its tiny, clawed hands, the creature gripped an oversized pair of pliers. The rusted metal gleamed in the dim light, their jagged edges sharp and vicious. The pliers were stained, as though they had been used on countless victims before, their purpose clear and sinister.
The creature twisted its head at an unnatural angle, the sickening crunch of bone and sinew filling the air. Then, with a high-pitched, mocking laugh, it focused on the crowd, its gaze sweeping over the stunned pedestrians. Lorcan’s breath caught as the tiny thing's grin widened in recognition.
“What… what is that?” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief.
The answer came not in words, but in another glowing notification that flickered into existence before him, as though the very air had rewritten itself to provide him with an answer.
[Tooth Fairy – Lesser Fae]
These wicked creatures feast on the teeth of their victims, using their terrifying pliers to pry them free. They thrive on fear, delighting in torment and pain. Beware their claws and insidious tricks.
Lorcan staggered backward, his mind racing, trying to comprehend the nightmare before him. “Tooth fairies? You’ve got to be kidding me.” The entire thing felt surreal, like a dream.
Before he could react, the creature darted forward, faster than its frail body suggested. One of the nearby bystanders—a man in a dark suit—swatted at the thing, trying to bat it away. But the fairy was too fast. It latched onto the man’s arm with a screech, its pliers snapping shut with a sickening crunch as they tore through flesh and fabric. The man let out a terrible scream, but the sound was cut off as the creature sank its jagged teeth into his wrist, its grin widening with delight.
Lorcan’s stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as he struggled to look away. His legs trembled beneath him, and his pulse thundered in his ears. The street was a nightmare, a scene of chaos and horror. More tooth fairies appeared, each one more grotesque than the last, each one carrying its own set of rusted pliers. They swarmed the area, their high-pitched laughter mingling with the screams of their victims.
Lorcan’s heart raced as the weight of the situation hit him. He backed into a nearby alley, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The faint buzzing sound of another approaching fairy made him spin around, just in time to see the creature hovering at the entrance. Its grin was even wider now, its pliers gleaming in the dim light of the alleyway.
“Of course, it comes for me,” Lorcan muttered under his breath, fumbling in his pocket for something, anything that could help him. His fingers closed around the familiar shape of his pocketknife. He pulled it out, gripping it tightly, but his hand was shaky, his thoughts racing as the fairy hovered closer.
The creature let out a screech and lunged, claws extended. Lorcan’s instincts kicked in, and he barely dodged in time, his body moving faster than his mind could process. The fairy missed him by mere inches, but the blade of his pocketknife carved a shsllow wound across its leg. The creature shrieked in outrage.
Before it could attack again, a deafening hum filled the air. Lorcan turned toward the street just as a wall of light erupted around the perimeter of the block. It was like a dome, a barrier of hard light shimmering with iridescent colors. The fae inside shrieked again and darted upward, only to bounce off the barrier as though it were solid.
“What now?” Lorcan whispered, staring at the glowing walls. The light pulsed rhythmically, casting strange shadows across the city. He could hear the muffled cries of people outside the barrier, but the sound was distant, distorted.
A new notification appeared before his eyes:
[Zone Activation: 349807120]
- Each zone has been isolated. Residents must come together to face your first challenge.
- Objective: Survive three waves.