The stench of blood and torn flesh hung thick in the air, mingling with the deafening roars of battle. Screams of agony, the clash of steel, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground—it was chaos.
The battlefield stretched endlessly, a grotesque sea of corpses and shattered weapons. Overhead, the fractured remains of the moon rained down upon what was once Earth, painting the sky with streaks of fire and destruction.
Then, as if the apocalypse itself had opened its maw, black portals began to rupture across the battlefield.
Horrific creatures manifest from them, unrelenting and absolute.
Corpses littered the ground, blood pooled to just below the knees — making it significantly harder to fight.
Still, the soldiers persevered. Some driven by ambition, some by duty, some with no choice but to be here, and others… others who sought nothing but the thrill of carnage.
But their reasons meant nothing.
A portal unlike the others tore open, its size alone swallowing the battlefield in shadow. A single, armoured foot stepped through—black steel, etched with ancient scars of war.
Then came the figure.
Clad in abyssal armour, its form pulsed with a crimson glow as if veins of molten fury ran beneath the surface. In one hand, it gripped a massive, zweihander, its edges permanently stained with the blood of countless victims.
The creature barely acknowledged the soldiers before it. With a single, effortless wave of its sword
SPLATTER!
The front lines were erased. Not cut down, not slain—erased. Only four men remained, drenched in the blood of their fallen comrades.
With a tacit understanding, the four heroes nod at each other—
Unlike the heroes expected, the demonic figure did not wait for them to prepare themselves.
BOOOM!
Before they could even move, the battlefield detonated. In an instant, three of them were reduced to dust, their bodies never even registering pain before being obliterated.
The large black figure grins madly, eyes red with uncontrollable fury as it stands in the centre of the crater it made with a mere stomp of its metal foot.
The last remaining soldier barely turned his head in time—
SHING!
A black blade roared past him, missing his neck by a hair's breadth. But he wasn't fast enough.
CRACK! WHOOSH!
A boot crashed into his ribs, with the force of a truck. The sound of bones shattering reached the ears of the violent figure as the soldier's body was launched skyward like a ragdoll.
The demon was already grinning.
Eyes ablaze with bloodlust, it bent its knees and shot into the air like a jet, closing the distance in an instant.
"RAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!"
BOOOOOOM!!
The sword came down like divine judgment. The earth beneath them screamed as a crater swallowed the soldier.
Dust and debris settled in the eerie silence. With a single motion, the demon wave away the smoke, revealing the lifeless body of the hero—pinned, broken and defeated.
Before the soldier's dimming eyes, a screen flickered to life.
A single phrase appeared, glowing ominously.
[GAME OVER]
***
In room number #1, Glory Academy Year 1 Dormitory.
Beep Beep
Beep Beep
The sickening sound of an alarm fills the room, ordinarily, this would annoy the teen who is currently walking out of the Game-Pod. However, the sound of a hearty laugh drowned out the sound of the alarm momentarily.
"Nothing like starting the day by bullying some noobs," He mutters with a satisfied smile.
Bam!
The young man smacks the alarm away with a sharp slap that seems to come out of nowhere.
"Eve, what is my schedule for today?"
He asks his A.I. while gazing lovingly at his new Game-Pod.
The Game-Pod is the symbol of humanity's greatest technology, in his not-so-humble opinion.
FDVR: Full-Dive Virtual Reality.
In the year 2180, humanity launched an expedition to investigate a mysterious anomaly in deep space. For five years, there was nothing but radio silence. Then, in 2185, a single survivor returned.
The details of the expedition were classified—the public never learned what truly happened. Yet, less than a week later, an announcement shook the world: Warcraft Online.
At first glance, it seemed like just another game. But two things were peculiar:
1. It wasn't created by a gaming company—it was launched by the world government itself.
2. Its technology was far beyond anything humanity had ever seen.
By this time, Virtual Reality had already reached its perceived peak. Even before Warcraft Online, VR was advanced enough to grant real-world qualifications—medical students could earn genuine licenses through VR-based training, and pilots could become fully certified without ever stepping into a real cockpit.
But Full-Dive Virtual Reality (FDVR)—a completely immersive experience indistinguishable from reality—had remained a fantasy. No company had ever cracked the code.
So when Warcraft Online debuted with perfect, 100% realism, people began to question it's origins.
-Alien Tech?
-A secret government experiment?
Theories ran wild on the internet. Yet, in the end, it didn't matter.
The moment Warcraft Online Launched, it rendered every other game obsolete.
Other titles became nothing more than training grounds—stepping stones for those waiting to turn sixteen, the minimum age required to enter Warcraft Online.
But it wasn't just the game market that was affected.
For the average civilian, entering Warcraft Online is the most exciting moment of their life. If you were to ask 100 people on the street what their lifelong dream is, 99 of them would say, "To become a great player in Warcraft Online."
Unfortunately, for many, that dream will never become a reality.
Becoming a great player in Warcraft Online is far easier said than done — as there is an equally high risk to reward.
However, the path to success is much more attainable for those who attend one of the prestigious Player Training Academies.
Glory Academy is one such institution—an elite school dedicated to training aspiring players. For students at this renowned academy, entering Warcraft Online on New Year's Day isn't just encouraged; it's mandatory.
The young man is cut from his musings by the voice of his A.I.
[Schedule for Thursday 31st December 2224]
[Current Time: 8: 05 am]
[9:00 am—10:30 pm, History with Mr Reidir]
[10:45 pm—1:30 pm, Combat Arena with Mavena]
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
[2:30—…..]
[…]
His A.I. continued — but he was no longer listening, a message icon appeared on the black bracelet on his wrist.
He opened the message to see the username of the players he just killed spamming him with repeated angry messages.
A 'gentle' smile crept up his face, his eyes filled with 'kindness' as he replied swiftly.
-L bro.
-Stay mad.
He clicks send with a hearty chuckle — the rage-filled messages continued, to which his smile got even more 'gentle'.
'Yes. Keep seething. This is what I live for,'
His attention is brought back to Eve, as he finally registers her previous words.
"Did you say arena? Also, who is Mavena?"
He was excited at the prospect of combat class, but he was confused about who this new Combat Instructor was.
Eve decided that the young man's first question was rhetorical, so she elected to answer the second question, providing details on the new Combat Instructor.
[Mavena {Surname Unregistered}, Age: 54, Height: 6'5, Weight: {Unregistered}, Background: Unknown, however — speculation suggests that she may be a retired military official.]
"Hmm," The young man hums in acknowledgement while walking into the kitchen — he takes out a box of cereal, a bowl and a carton of milk.
"Captain Crisp, the breakfast of the gods…" He mutters while putting the milk first — because he is a lunatic, then the cereal, and finally putting the bowl in the microwave — to achieve nothing but getting the bowl hot.
***
Finishing his breakfast while in the bath, he feels a vibration on his wrist — he looks to find a calling icon on his black bracelet.
He rolls his eyes with a tired sigh — answering the call on his connector.
The male voice comes through the black bracelet.
"Giuseppe, where are you? You should be here by now," The voice speaks. The young man, now known as Giuseppe — could almost imagine his friend's deadpan expression by his tone.
"Listen, Marcus, you must appreciate the silence of this fine morning. And not ruin it by the ramblings of Mr Reidir," Giuseppe responds while spinning his connector carelessly around his finger, a carefree smile on his face.
"You were playing DMO, weren't you?" Marcus asks.
Giuseppe walks out of the bath while responding.
"Echo, actually," He says while drying himself off.
"Echo? You hardly play that game after getting max level,"
"I know, right? Some morons challenged me and now they're mad 'cause' they got void'd." He says with a hearty chuckle while admiring himself in the mirror.
A handsome face stared back at him with a proud smirk.
Giuseppe is a tall young man (around 6'2) with pale skin, deep obsidian eyes and long messy black hair that was currently wet from his bath. He has distinctly handsome features and a strangely shredded physique — considering he only started training recently.
He quickly dries himself off, brushing his teeth while Marcus talks through his bracelet.
"Anyway, you should at least get here before arena. We gotta' be as prepped as possible before tomorrow," Marcus says firmly.
"Why?" Giuseppe cluelessly asks.
"Are you serious? It's new year tomorrow, we are entering Warcraft Online. You know, the whole fuckin' reason we are at this school?"
Giuseppe raises his head from the sink.
"Was that tomorrow?" He mutters, briefly checking the date.
He taps his connector, and a holographic screen appears before his eyes.
[Thursday 31st December 2224 10:24 am]
"Hmm…" He hums in acknowledgement, before refocusing on the voice.
"I'm ready." He says unwaveringly, slicking back his messy black hair—his obsidian black eyes stare into his reflection on the mirror with a sharp gleam.
"I have been waiting for this day for ages." He adds with a large grin on his face, showing his sharp teeth.
"…" Marcus stays silent, his thoughts unclear.
"Anyway, I'm almost ready. I will be on time for arena. So prepare to get your ass handed to you."
"Delude yourself for all I care," Marcus says while ending the call, not allowing Giuseppe to make a comeback.
"Tsk...Dick," He mutters while putting his messy hair into a rough man bun — held together by a long silver pin.
***
After getting ready, Giuseppe steps out of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair as he walks past the hallway mirror. He stops for a moment, flashing himself a proud smirk.
Dressed in loose white bottoms and a snug black long-sleeve—its sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms—he exudes effortless confidence. Slipping on his black sliders and adjusting his white bucket hat, he catches another glimpse of himself as he heads for the door.
"Fuck, I look like a damn kitchen floor," he chuckles to himself.
With a soft click, the door automatically locks behind him as he steps into the spacious halls of the Year 1 male dormitory. The usual morning chatter is absent—most students are already in class, leaving the corridors strangely quiet.
Glory Academy's campus is massive, practically the size of a small city. Despite having spent almost a year here, Giuseppe still finds himself lost more frequently than he'd like.
Upon exiting the dormitory building, Giuseppe was surprised to see not as many people in class as he expected.
The academy was bustling with festivities and decorations. All students and staff were heavily anticipating tomorrow.
Giuseppe quickly checks the time again.
[10:31 am]
He narrows his eyes thoughtfully.
'Not as much time as I'd like, but no way I'm missing the only class I actually enjoy,'
A grin spreads across his face as he quickens his pace.
"Especially with this new teacher…"
With a spark of excitement in his step, he strides toward the campus bullet train station.
***
Marcus sighed as he sat on a park bench.
Marcus stands at a similar height to Giuseppe, his dark skin contrasting sharply with his deep golden eyes. He has intricately styled dreadlocks which are mostly swept back, catching the shining light of the sun and giving off a radiant golden hue.
His athletic, muscular build speaks of both power and agility, the kind of physique that's honed for speed and strength. A pair of sleek, round golden sunglasses rest on his face, subtly hiding his luminous eyes.
His attire consists of a simple grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, clearly prepared for the upcoming training session.
Marcus's overall aesthetic could be considered handsome.
As he sat, his attention was drawn to a large tree nearby. It wasn't the size that caught his eye, but the pair of black boots tied to one of its branches.
"Was that always there...?" Marcus muttered to himself.
"I don't fuckin' know, bro," a voice came from behind him.
Marcus jumped in surprise. "Holy shit! You scared me."
Giuseppe appeared, smirking, as he casually rested his arms on the back of the bench.
________________________________________
Author Note
:)
