"Life support systems restored. Welcome back, Operator."
The voice echoed in my head—calm, robotic, emotionless.
I stirred, eyelids heavier than they should've been.
Then the voice spoke again.
"Error in performance metrics. Beginning system power surge and emergency-mode reboot."
Pain shot through my body as the sensory matrix re-engaged. My limbs twitched—finally moveable. I sat up slowly, blinking— taking in a forest that looked too vivid, too real.
"A new map…?" I muttered. "No. Even they can't make something this realistic."
I ran my hands—or rather the sensors attached to them, through the grass. The feedback was flawless. Too flawless.
But now was not the time to panic. I pushed the thought aside and did what I'd done a hundred times before.
"ARKOS, are you with me?"
"Affirmative, Angel Zephon. Running environmental scans and verifying data-link connectivity."
I nodded—reflexively—and switched focus.
"CASSIS. Suit status."
The second voice answered. Sharper. Heavier. Cold.
> "Suit Power: 60% (-20% surge loss)
Environment Filter: Offline
HUD Systems: Operational
Data Link: Offline (Error)
Targeting Assist: Basic—functional, damaged
Weapons: Functional. Loaded.
Life Support: Active
Unique System Tools: Offline
Gadget Production: Online — 6/6
Minimum system functionality restored, Operator."
I stood. My armor hissed as pressure equalized, finally letting the suit that has followed me for over 10 years see the new worlds sun.
The treeline ahead swayed slightly—no movement.
"ARKOS, initiate First Steps protocol. Standard procedure."
"Of course, sir. Water source located south—94% probability based on environmental factors."
CASSIS silently added a compass overlay to my HUD.
I turned south and began walking.
As I walked the projected four miles, I finally had time to consider the situation.
I'd never been one to panic—not during system crashes, last-second qualifiers, or even the finals of Destined Design: Online, the full-dive game that consumed half the world's free time.
It was a movement shooter at heart—fast, vertical, kinetic. But it blended MMO depth, logistics, and worldbuilding in ways nobody expected. A planet-sized battlefield. Clan wars. Personalized gear and high-tech suits—over twenty-five, each with unique gadgets, loadouts, and quirks. No zombies. Just solar flares, ruined tech, and surviving the end of everything.
I spent more time in that game than in the real world. So did most people.
And in that world, Zephon meant something.
Ten years in the top five. Founder of The Order of Saint's Ire. Our clan was so lore-focused, the devs canonized us. Custom events. Mentions in official updates. Our own strike dropship design.
Now?
This wasn't a new map like the rumors had mentioned. No loading screen. No balance patch. Just... this place. A forest that felt too real. Air that tasted different.
A glitch, maybe. A portal. Doesn't matter now.
"Still..." I muttered, tossing another disk-shaped sensor behind me like I had every 15 minutes, "I hope my guild's doing alright without me."
Suddenly, an orange exclamation point flashed across my HUD, shaking me from my thoughts.
"Warning: contacts detected at Echo Lure 2," CASSIS intoned, his deep voice reverberating through the suit.
> "Contact count: 11
Species: Humanoid
Body language: Aggressive
Recommendation: Pursue."
I blinked, surprised to find other humans in what seemed to be an otherwise empty forest. Still, it was a good opportunity. I pivoted smoothly and set off at a light run—intent on learning what I could from what I could only hope were locals.
When I neared the last recorded position on the Echo disk, CASSIS highlighted a trail of footprints across my HUD, leading directly toward a nearby cave.
I didn't go straight in.
Instead, I circled wide, checking for alternate entry points—an old habit I picked up from walking into one too many ambushes. That's when ARKOS spoke again, calm but firm.
"Zephon, I would advise caution. This cave's roof may not support your armor weight. I recommend—"
CRACK.
The ground shifted beneath me. Stone giving way to the darkness below.
I fell.
Thankfully, my stance held. I landed hard—but upright—on the cave floor below.
Around me, everything froze. Humans. Green-skinned creatures—goblins, maybe, if the old fantasy games were anything to go by.
Their weapons were still raised. Their eyes locked on me.
CASSIS activated the external broadcast.
"Weaponry detected. Drop your weapons. Compliance is mandatory. Threat assessment in progress."