I wasn’t anything special in the real world. Just your average 22-year-old shut-in with no job, no social life, and way too many hours dumped into this stupid game called Astravia.
Yeah, it was on the older side, but it was still my favorite open-world RPG to date—massive landscapes, sprawling cities, tons of magical skills and weapons, and some of the most immersive, lively characters I’d ever seen in a game.
I’d maxed out every build. Knew every questline. I even crafted elaborate guides and strategies to defeat every enemy type with any setup imaginable. Honestly, if I could apply half the knowledge I’d gained in Astravia to the real world, I’d probably be the god who created it.
It was the one place I felt in control. A world I understood. A world where I actually mattered.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Then the green light came.
One second I was typing up notes on a new summon that had just been added to the game. The next, a blinding emerald glow flared above me.
Before I could react, something ripped me from my chair. The force knocked me out cold.
Somewhere in that unconscious haze, I heard a voice—familiar, but distorted—chanting words I couldn’t quite place. Initialize. Fortify. Summon. Adapt. Over and over again, the words echoed, shuffled in strange sequences.
Then silence.
And cold darkness.
When I woke, the warm sun beamed down on me.
I was lying on a grassy hillside. The wind cut through my shirt, and the scent of dew and wildflowers filled the air. Below me stretched open plains wrapped in morning fog, flanked by jagged mountain ranges and forests so dense they looked alive.
In the distance: massive stone walls, high towers… a kingdom that looked all too familiar.
If I’m right—if I really am where I think I am—then I’ve somehow been transported into the world of Astravia.
And if that’s true… I wonder if I still have all my abilities and powers.
A new start. Finally, somewhere I know I can be useful.
