Far from the Shrine of Beginning, another starter area stretched beneath the digital sky—Beginners' Castle, a medieval town lined with cobbled streets and towering stone buildings. The long concrete path led to a pristine white quartz spawn platform, where the newly arrived players gathered in clusters.
"Hey, Emi, have you seen them yet?"
"No, I have not," Emiko replied flatly, shifting her weight to one side. "And don't call me Emi, you weirdo."
The murmur of the crowd around the central plaza grew louder.
Ji-Soon glanced around, his brows knitting together. "I swear, they said only about a hundred students were getting in, but…" He exhaled sharply, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces.
"From the look of things, this place is packed. Way more than just a hundred players."
"Not just that," Emiko muttered, her eyes narrowing. "Have you noticed something odd?"
He hesitated, his fingers tapping against his arm. "Yeah, I do."
His gaze flickered from person to person—some were students, sure, but many weren't. There were adults, and not just any adults. Their appearances seemed… off.
"Different shades," he murmured, the words catching in his throat.
Before either of them could process it further, a deafening crack split the air. Ji-Soon instinctively jerked his head up—his stomach lurched.
Two massive boulders plummeted from above, tearing through the sky like falling meteors. The plaza erupted into chaos.
Screams rang out as people shoved and stumbled over one another, desperately trying to escape. Some tripped over scattered crates, while others slammed into the rigid market stalls, knocking goods to the ground.
Ji-Soon, despite the imminent danger, cracked a grin. "Well, they say the odds were never in our favour, but I didn't think we'd be caught between a rock and a hard place—literally!"
Emiko shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
'Just kill me already,' she thought, squinting the bridge of her nose.
"Why," she muttered under her breath, "did I have to get lost with you of all people?"
I observed the digital universe through these dreary eyes as I drifted across the crimson terrain. A sudden, gut-deep instinct sent a chill through me.
Thousands must be gathered there. I could feel the weight of their presence, a dense tide of life pressing in. Another cluster of energy pulsed strongly to the north, rich and teeming. But something was off. The air felt heavy, as if the game itself was breathing, watching. Even in my spirit form, the unease gnawed at me.
The centre of the blood-red sky slowly let through a dark, dusk-like material. It almost demonstrated how nasty it was as it descended, but rather than hitting the ground, it paused; instead, it started to alter its shape.
The stony paths in front of the Shrine of Beginning burst as it landed, throwing boulder fragments throughout the flat field. As the creature approached them, Tang-Ji noticed a sentient entity with arms as long as the town's gate.
As it approached, her gaze locked onto the monstrosity—its arms stretching impossibly long, shadowing the entire walkway.
Her hands shook, fingers cold and rigid as she clutched the edge of the wooden balcony, her breath catching in shallow, uneven bursts. The creature's blazing eyes seemed to pierce her, each pulse of light hammering at her core, rooting her in place.
Without warning, the beast swung its jagged limbs, tearing chunks of stone from the ground and sending them hurtling towards the shrine. The massive projectiles crashed against an ethereal blue barrier, ricocheting off with a deafening crack.
Around her, voices rose in panicked shouts, a chaotic symphony of dread echoing through the shrine as players scrambled, barely managing to shield themselves.
"A barrier... a mob shouldn't be able to target a safe zone. How is that even possible?" Kazami's voice wavered, his eyes fixed on the encroaching threat. He took a shaky breath, then hissed, "We need to run. This place isn't safe anymore."
Although he was aware that this was a protected area and that it would be impossible for a mob to enter, his thoughts exploded into millions of firecrackers as he sprinted while gripping Tang-Ji's arm.
Before they could leave the massive shrine's centre square, Tang-Ji and Kazami were both startled by an ominous voice.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to my realm. My name is Kyushu Aiuchi, and I welcome you all to Yuyami Kyuden."
Kazami knew exactly who this was. This person, who was both a game designer and a genius in the field of quantum physics, was the one responsible for raising VIRM Tech, which even a few years ago was just one of many small companies, into one of the leading companies in the field.
As hardcore gamers, both Tang-Ji and Kazami respected Kyushu deeply. They bought all the magazines that featured him and had read his few interviews until we almost knew them all by heart.
We could almost see him in the white lab coat he always wore by just hearing his voice. Although I've only ever talked to him a few times when we were on that holiday, the fact remains that the man was deemed to be dead almost a decade ago.
"That's absurd; that man should be dead," Kazami whispered to himself in terror.
Kyushu: "Currently, you might all be confused, as you asked yourself why a high-level boss is there, spawned in front of all the beginner's towns. Perhaps you're all wondering why many people from different nationalities are in the game, despite this being a Japan-exclusive game.
"Well, to put it bluntly, for all of you players, as of now, more than 1 million players across the world can no longer log out of Dusk Protocol."
Tang-Ji and Kazami both stood still, petrified at the beast roaring on the other side of the blue field.
Kyushu: "As of right now, there are three beginning cities, and each one of them is guarded at the front gate by a high-level boss. In a few moments, you will have two choices: either stay in that town and cling to hope with your Leere or fight a battle that will ensure your death. There will no longer be a safe place to hide."
"No longer a safe place to hide? What does he mean by that?" Tang-Ji murmured, knowing exactly what those words meant deep inside, yet the reality was so terrifying that her mind just simply denied the ultimatum.
Kyushu's voice crackled through the speakers, laced with intermittent static. "From this moment onwards..." A brief pause followed, the faint hum of interference cutting in before his voice returned, sharper. "Once your avatar health bar reaches zero, you will be permanently deleted both from the game and the real world."
A distorted buzz flickered through the mic, followed by a faint pop. "The SSD capsule will flood with a highly toxic chemical, destroying all your cells and instantly taking away your life." Another pause—longer this time, as if letting the weight of his words settle.
"You can either lose your life to damage taken," a brief hitch in the audio, a grating hiss, "or lose it to a timer." A low, grainy hum undercut his next words.
"As of right now, a timer has been set to 2400 hours, the equivalent of 100 days. If the game is not cleared by then, all players remaining will be simultaneously cast into the vortex below the castle."
The mic stuttered with a faint screech before settling. "In other words..." His voice dropped lower, almost drowned by the static. "Everyone will die."
The rowdy crowd of more than a few thousand players stood still in silence.
"And to make sure everyone understands the situation you are in, the capsule of the SSD is durable enough to withstand a focused laser beam or a heavy round from military tank ammunition. There will be no outsider interfering with my creation; your only source of survival now is to rely on your soul, or, should I say, on your Leere."
A low hum undercut his next words. "In mere moments, there will no longer be a safe zone.This is not a bug in the game but a feature that I've implemented. Keep that in mind, players—there will be no place to hide."
A final silence stretched before he spoke again, this time quieter. "That will be all from me." A slow exhale, almost amused.
"I would wish you all the very best, but unfortunately…" His voice dipped, laced with finality. "Not a single soul will leave this tower alive."
There was a long, faint scream. However, the majority of the players just could not believe it or were unwilling to accept what they had been told, so they either stood there with a slack-jawed look or grinned wryly.
Tang-Ji's mind made an effort to deny what Kyushu had just stated. Her knees, however, abruptly started trembling, and her body betrayed her thoughts. As her knees conitnue to wobbled, she staggered back a few steps but managed to stop herself from falling.
Kazami collapsed to his knees like a ragdoll, his limbs now too heavy for his body, his face expressionless with shaded rings shrouding his eyes.
"He's only doing it to appeal to us, like a cool story quest, right? How could he possibly pull it off?"
Shouted among the ruckuses.
"Stop making jokes and let us go. We can't spare the time to participate in your pathetic opening ceremony."
"Yes, surely everything here is merely an event. An opening performance, yes?"
"Something's wrong; the usual logout command isn't working," said a woman's voice next to Tang-Ji, along with many other confused players.
"I can't logout either!" "What the hell is this?" "Let us out asshole!"
Tang-Ji quickly raised her two fingers above her vision to begin a swiping motion to activate the menu command. As she scrolled down to settings, she was faced with a grim reality: there were no log-out buttons; instead, a message came up, blocking her UI setting.
SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: COMMAND LOGOUT HAS BEEN DISABLED BY ADMIN.
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While aimlessly drifting away in thoughts from dozens of game settings on the white projector, she noticed a distinctly quiet but steady hum. She tilted her head up towards the sky, only to be jolted by a sizzling noise.
"Something's wrong with the safe zone." Kazami said it in disbelief.
The UI of the barrier briefly blinks, gently creating a buzzing sound before fading away, leaving sparks of dust behind. Tang-Ji's thoughts spun wildly, colliding with one another. 'What happened to the safe zone? This can't be real... can it? Isn't this supposed to be a game?'
Her breaths came in short, erratic gasps as she stared at the empty screen, her fingers trembling over the pop-up menu. Frantically, she searched for the logout button, but her efforts were met with nothing—just hollow icons and unresponsive commands.
Everyone stopped motionless as an eruption burst loudly over the horizon, and the sky darkened. Kazami's eyes widened in terror as he slowly turned his head in apprehension at what had produced the thunderous outbreak.
The creature was spotted just a few green icons away with a red cursor above its head,
The creature started to speed up, perhaps in response to the fleeting masses, reaching the innermost layer of the shrine in a matter of seconds. It had made its way inside the tower, almost unnoticed by everyone.
Despite being utterly terrified, Kazami was helpless to move.
"Move, please... move, you braindead fool!" He cried.
The monster crept closer, but Kazami's body made no sound in response. Though muffled, the fearful screams of the crowds that the monster had scooped up or crushed beneath the collapsed buildings were still audible to him.
Tang-Ji quickly rushed to Kazami, who lay still in the cacophony of screaming, gripping his shoulders while shaking him rather violently for a girl her size. She had gone entirely unnoticed by him; his body froze like a stone statue.
"Get moving, Kazami!" She grabbed his arm and started dragging him away, screaming, "This is no place to die!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Kazami noticed the beast's appendages flailing in their direction, snapping him out of his trance.
Instinctively, he shoved Tang-Ji out of the way and received a crushing blow as his body was launched lifelessly across two large halls, sacrificing most of his health points. He gasped in pain, despite the enemy in front of him and the world around him being digital.
Before entering this game, I observed Kazami along with Tang-Ji for many years. The moment he stumbled on an article written by one of the beta testers, I should have suspected something.
The article described an abnormal stinging sensation the player felt when struck by a monster. A game where all injuries to an avatar produce a realistic sensation of pain is known as a Pain Tolerance System, a feature that is bundled with the Minerva system to improve the immersion of virtual reality.
The pain felt in this game could be even greater than the pain felt in reality, as the brain would normally secrete chemicals that would decrease the pain or end up in a coma as a defensive mechanism. However, since the body is already in an unconscious state, the pain experienced here could potentially fry one's own central nervous system, inevitably taking their life.
Kazami laid sprawled on the cold stone floor, his breath ragged, his body throbbing with sharp, electric pain. Blood seeped from a fresh gash on his forehead—but it did not pool like it should.
Instead, it shimmered, breaking apart into tiny crystalline shards, dissolving into the air like scattered stardust. Each fragment caught the firelight, twinkling briefly before vanishing into nothing, as if the game itself refused to acknowledge his suffering as real.
A dull, rhythmic beeping pulsed through the air, syncing with his unsteady heartbeat—a low health warning.
The sound flashed red behind his eyelids, pulsing in tandem with the throbbing in his skull. It was a cruel metronome, marking the seconds slipping away, the fragile tether between survival and oblivion.
'Beep… Thud… Beep… Thud…'
Like a countdown to his own erasure.
Screams echoed through the ruined tower. Frantic footsteps pounded against the cracked stone tiles. The thick scent of burning wood and incense mixed with the coppery tang of blood, choking the air.
The once-pristine shrine around him was now hell—its sacred torii gate splintered in half, shide paper strips fluttering in the embers of distant fires. Even the golden bell that once hung above the altar next to the cherry bloosm tree was now crushed beneath the rubble.
Tang-Ji skidded to her knees beside him, her hands shaking as she grabbed his shoulders.
"Kazami?!" Her voice cracked. "Kazami, answer me!"
She shook him—desperate, frantic—but his body was limp, eyes barely open.
Kazami groaned, his thoughts sluggish, distant.
'What the hell just hit me? A truck? A wrecking ball?' His ears rang, drowning out everything but the pounding in his skull.
The ground quaked as the tremor beneath them sent another wave of debris crashing down.
Tang-Ji clenched her fists, her breath shallow.
A monstrous growl rumbled through the shrine, shaking the very air. She looked up—there it was. A grotesque, inhuman silhouette looming over the carnage, its molten eyes fixed on them.
She swallowed hard. Her hands trembled, but she forced them to move.
'This is still a game.'
'It had to be.'
If it was a game, then she could fight back.
Ignoring Kyushu's warnings, she reached out, her fingers splayed, willing her Leere to appear.
Nothing.
"What?" she whispered, her voice fragile.
She tried again, clenching her fingers in desperation.
"Come on… come on!"
Nothing.
Her breath hitched. Panic clawed at her throat.
"I've done this before," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why isn't it working?"
The creature let out a deafening snarl, its massive form shifting forward, cracking the stone beneath its weight. The flames reflected off its gnarled, armor-like skin, casting grotesque shadows on the shrine walls.
Tang-Ji's vision blurred with tears.
Kazami's fingers twitched. Through his fading consciousness, he could hear her—the broken sobs, the sheer terror in her voice. His vision swam in darkness, but he forced himself to focus.
She was trying. Fighting.
But the game wasn't playing fair.
And neither was reality.