Yuki's head buzzed with a strange clarity as he stood still, taking a moment to catch his breath after the grueling physical tests. His body ached, his muscles protesting against the exertion, but the sensation was entirely different now. He no longer felt like a mere observer of a game; he was a part of this world. The pain, the discomfort—everything felt real, felt important.
Aurora's voice echoed softly in his mind, steady and calm.
**"Test results are satisfactory, Yuki. Your body has adapted well to the transition, and your vitals are stable. The studio has confirmed that everything is within acceptable parameters. You are ready for the next phase."**
Yuki exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading. He had expected to feel more… disoriented, maybe even scared. But instead, a strange sense of accomplishment settled in his chest. He had passed the physical test. He had made it this far. The world around him, now more vibrant and alive, seemed to pulse with possibilities.
**"This is it,"** Aurora said, her tone shifting ever so slightly. **"You are about to begin your real journey, Yuki. The world you are about to enter has been shaped by your subconscious. It will reflect your deepest thoughts, your fears, your desires. Your adventure will begin now, and it will be unlike anything you have ever experienced."**
Yuki's pulse quickened as the air around him seemed to shimmer. His surroundings began to shift, warping and dissolving like a dream unraveling at the edges. A sudden pull, a rush of vertigo, and then—
The world settled again.
Yuki stood at the edge of a vast, militarized camp, surrounded by high stone walls and tents made of tough, worn fabric. The smell of earth and sweat hung in the air, and the clatter of weapons and the murmur of soldiers filled his ears. It was an army camp, but not just any army camp. This was Battalion Red.
His heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him. He recognized this place. He *knew* this world. It was the same as the setting in one of his books—the one he had spent months writing, crafting a world where humans and demi-humans fought side by side to infiltrate the demon city and take it down from the inside. This was it, all of it. His mind had created it. This world, this army, the tension in the air—it was all pulled from his subconscious, from the stories he had poured into his novels.
A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. This wasn't just a game; it was his creation coming to life. The thought was thrilling, but it also filled him with a quiet dread. What if things turned out differently than he had planned?
He glanced around, taking in the camp. The soldiers, clad in mismatched armor, were preparing for something—sharpening weapons, donning their gear, and preparing their minds for the battle to come. A group of demi-humans, tall and lithe with sharp features and pointed ears, stood in a huddle, speaking in hushed voices. Others were human, like him, and most of them looked hardened, battle-worn.
Yuki looked down at his uniform—just a simple set of leather armor, lightly worn but functional. It wasn't much. He had no magic, no special powers. He wasn't even a skilled fighter, not in the traditional sense. The only thing that set him apart was the one-eyed binocular slung around his neck, an old-fashioned piece of equipment that had always intrigued him. It felt like a relic, an item from a past he wasn't entirely sure was his own.
He reached for the small knife at his side—barely larger than a blade for cutting through cloth. But it would serve him well enough. At his waist, a small badge with a symbol he didn't recognize hung, a silent marker of his position: Scout. Not just any scout, though. He was one of the first. The expendable ones. The ones meant to infiltrate the demon city, report back, and if anything went wrong—disappear. It was a role that didn't come with glory.
Yuki's mind raced. This was exactly how he had written it—*he* was supposed to be one of the scouts, sent to infiltrate the heart of enemy territory. He would face trials, tests, and eventually, likely death. The idea of being discarded, of being a pawn in a war of survival, had always struck a chord with him when writing. But now, standing in the very world he had dreamed up, the weight of that fate felt different.
The soldiers around him paid him little attention, lost in their own preparations. Yuki stood still for a moment, just taking it all in. His feet felt planted to the earth, and his mind wrestled with the overwhelming sense of déjà vu.
He had readied himself for the world of *Fayer Rift* to be a blank canvas. Instead, he had stepped into his own story—one that he had crafted, but now he was a part of it, caught in the web of his own imagination.
A sharp voice broke through his thoughts.
**"Hey! You there, new blood!"**
Yuki turned, squinting at the figure in front of him. The man was tall, his face lined with age and frustration. A Major. He was dressed in the same leather armor as the other soldiers, but his rank was clear, marked by the black insignia across his chest.
**"What are you standing around for?!"** The Major barked. **"Get over here and make your damn arrival announcement. You're not in the academy anymore. You're in the real world now, Scout. And around here, we don't coddle greens. If you don't announce yourself properly, I'll have you sent back to wherever you came from. Got it?"**
Yuki's heart skipped a beat. The Major was just as he had written him—gruff, dismissive, and hostile toward newbies like him. He remembered how much he had written about this moment, about how the new recruits had to prove themselves by facing the harsh realities of the camp. He had even made the Major particularly cruel to those who showed weakness.
But now, standing before the man, Yuki couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. He had known this moment in theory, but now it was real. This wasn't a scene from a book; this was *his* reality.
He swallowed and straightened his back. The rules of his story hadn't changed.
He was supposed to announce himself, face the Major, and prove he was ready for whatever came next. It was what the story demanded.
He stepped forward, taking a deep breath. His voice, though still unsure, rang out across the camp.
**"Scout Yuki, reporting for duty, Major,"** he said, standing tall, as his mind worked to match the moment he had written so many times.
The Major eyed him with disdain. **"Scout, huh? Let's see if you last a week."**
Yuki didn't flinch. The world was taking shape around him, and he was a part of it now. There was no turning back. This was *Fayer Rift*, and this was where his story—and his survival—began.
The Major eyed Yuki for a moment, his expression hard and unreadable. Then, with a dismissive grunt, he turned away, motioning for Yuki to follow.
**"Alright, rookie,"** the Major said, his voice gruff. **"You want to prove you're worth something around here? Start by doing a few tasks. Nothing big. Just show me you can handle the basics. You're here to observe, report, and follow orders, so let's see if you can do that without tripping over your own feet."**
Yuki swallowed and nodded, trying to hide the unease bubbling in his chest. This was exactly what he had written, but living it was another thing entirely. His legs moved before he could think, following the Major as they walked across the bustling camp.
**"First things first,"** the Major continued, his voice low and harsh. **"There's a man over by the mess hall, in the corner. His name's Doran. He's a cook, but he's also our information gatherer. He likes to gossip, so you need to go and make sure he doesn't say anything stupid. Just tell him to keep his mouth shut about anything related to the mission. Got it?"**
Yuki nodded again, trying to keep his posture straight. He was used to writing these commands in his stories, but being on the receiving end was something else entirely.
The Major gave him a sharp look. **"Don't make me repeat myself. Move."**
Yuki set off toward the mess hall. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he focused on his steps. As he walked, the weight of the binocular hanging around his neck settled against his chest, reminding him of his purpose here. He wasn't just a scout in name—this was his role, and he had to play it well if he wanted to survive.
When he arrived at the mess hall, he spotted Doran immediately. The man was hunched over a wooden table, a pipe hanging from his lips. He was older, with a weathered face, his hands rough from years of hard labor. Yuki approached cautiously, trying to mimic the confidence he had written for his character.
**"Doran,"** Yuki said, his voice steady but still a bit uncertain. **"The Major sent me. You're to keep quiet about the mission. Understand?"**
Doran looked up slowly, sizing Yuki up. He took a slow drag from his pipe and exhaled the smoke, letting it swirl in the air.
**"The Major, huh?"** Doran chuckled. **"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill, kid. You don't need to tell me twice."** He leaned back in his chair, an almost smug look on his face. **"Just don't expect anyone around here to keep their mouths shut for long. We're all stuck in this hellhole together, and gossip's all we've got to keep our spirits up."**
Yuki's brow furrowed, but he held his ground. **"I'm serious. The Major doesn't like loose lips. If you want to stay here, keep your talk about the mission to yourself."**
Doran raised an eyebrow and puffed out another cloud of smoke. **"Alright, kid. I'll keep it down. But don't come crying to me when everyone's asking questions. Ain't nothing to do here but talk."**
Yuki gave him a sharp nod, then turned and walked away, feeling a strange mix of relief and frustration. He didn't like Doran's attitude, but he had managed to complete the task. He had spoken to the informant, delivered the message.
As he walked back toward the Major, the sound of distant footsteps echoed through the camp. His mind sharpened, the instincts of a scout flicking on. His eyes swept the camp, scanning for any potential threats, any unusual movements.
The Major was waiting for him near the edge of the training ground. His arms were crossed, his gaze fixed on Yuki. When Yuki approached, the Major nodded slightly.
**"Not bad. Now, for your next task,"** the Major said, his voice like steel. **"Your duty as a scout isn't just about carrying messages and delivering reports. It's about keeping the camp safe. You've got those fancy binoculars around your neck, so use them. Go up to the top of the camp's eastern wall. Look out over the horizon, check the perimeter. Report back if you see anything suspicious."**
Yuki's stomach tightened, but he nodded quickly. **"Yes, sir."**
The climb up the eastern wall was grueling, the ladder rattling beneath his feet as he ascended. When he reached the top, he stood still for a moment, taking in the vast, open landscape beyond the camp. The horizon stretched out before him, a sea of grass and rugged terrain. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional birdcall and the sounds of distant wind sweeping through the trees.
He raised the binoculars to his eye. The view was distant but sharp—he could make out the shapes of distant hills, the flickering light of a small village far off in the distance, and the occasional cloud of dust kicked up by wind or movement. His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the area, focusing on every detail, his breath steady as his mind sharpened.
Nothing.
Yuki lowered the binoculars, scanning the surroundings once more. Still nothing. He could feel the weight of the task pressing on him. The silence was almost unnerving. He had to be alert. Something could appear at any moment, and his job as a scout was to spot it before it became a threat.
He scanned further, the binoculars steady in his hands. His eyes caught a glimmer of something—a faint movement in the distance, far past the camp's boundaries. His instincts kicked in, and his heart rate spiked.
He focused harder, narrowing in on the shape. It was too far away to make out any clear details, but there was something there. Something that didn't belong.
He quickly brought the binoculars down, his mind working in overdrive. **"Major,"** he muttered under his breath. **"Something's out there."**
His voice was steady, but his body felt charged with the tension of discovery.
With a deep breath, Yuki made his way down the ladder, the task far from complete. He had seen something—but what? The Major would want details, and fast. He had to be sure before he reported back. His reflexes, his speed, and his attention to duty were all being tested in real-time.
As he approached the Major, his mind raced, replaying the movements he had seen, wondering what kind of threat it could be. The first test had been easy, simple tasks. But this—this was different. This was real. The test had begun.
**"Major,"** Yuki called out, breathless from the climb, **"I've spotted something on the horizon. Not sure what it is yet, but it's moving."**
The Major's face hardened. **"Good. You've got your eyes open. Now, let's see if you can keep them sharp when it counts."**
Yuki nodded, feeling the weight of the task now settle in his bones. This was just the beginning of the real test. The world of *Fayer Rift* had become more than just a game—it was a challenge. And Yuki was only beginning to understand what it meant to survive in it.