In the middle of a city, a sea of desperate people was fleeing from a group of individuals. However, the appearance of a woman with orange hair and a long-sleeved dress, white with red sleeves and blue details extending to the rest of the garment, changed the situation.
"Get out of here!" shouted one of the people who had previously terrorized everyone in the area.
The woman was walking forward, causing a transparent energy dome around her to expand toward one of the assassins. Almost all of them wore the same type of outfit: leather armor and tight black pants with a skull pierced by a video game controller.
"Don't be intimidated, she's just one, and we are more than thirty," said one of the assassins, who had the skull design on his chest, different from the others who had it on their leg, indicating he was probably the leader. Soon after, a group of seven assassins leapt toward her, but the one on her right had his head cut off by a gust of wind.
"Twenty-nine left. Congratulations, you're still alive," the woman said as an illusory image of an enormous woman appeared behind her, a seven-meter-tall version of herself mimicking all her movements.
"Do you still want control of my world?" the woman asked, pointing her finger at the group of assassins. Her illusory version repeated the gesture, with its enormous index finger just a few meters from the assassin leader's head.
"Did the cat get your tongue? Or do you think you still have a chance?" she asked, seeing the leader staring at her intently.
"Idiot," the leader began to say as his body erupted in flames. With a smile, he looked at the woman, who hadn't moved and maintained an apathetic expression since the start of the fight. The others started to scream. "Do you want to be burned?"
But his arrogant pose crumbled seconds later when they all, including the leader, stopped speaking in fear as they noticed a small light beginning to grow at the tip of the woman's finger, mirrored by her illusory version.
"Who did you call an idiot? You know the basic rules of all worlds, right?" the woman asked in a disheartened tone.
"Attack, attack, attack! Even if she kills one, there will still be more than twenty of us," shouted the boy next to the leader.
"Imbecile," the woman said, and a small flame shot from her fingertip, which her illusory version mimicked. This time, the flame was enormous, striking all of them and causing burns from head to toe. A hole formed in the ground, while a small amount of steam began to rise from the woman's fingertip.
"So one of you survived. You must be very lucky, boy," the woman said, sidestepping as a hole formed in the ground. She looked at the boy in front of her, his body completely burned.
"Let me heal you," she said with a smile, running her hand slowly over the boy's arm. The heat from his skin began to dissipate and cool, healing him.
"What do you think you are? You're big in the central world, right? But remember, outside, you lose to anyone," the boy said, jumping back and distancing himself from her, only to realize he was fully healed.
"Well, your situation says otherwise," the woman said, forming a green circuit in the area, creating something like a black hole that sucked in nothing but the remnants of the former group of player-assassins, the last of them being completely healthy. As soon as the boy was sucked in by the magic, the video ended.
"Those bastards got what they deserved."
"Exactly. I can't even go to another world to trade items without them trying to rob me."
"The irony is that those who claimed to be untouchable couldn't even touch her."
"You're right; they were completely annihilated," said a group of people aged nineteen to twenty-one, laughing nonstop after watching a video of Altair posted by an anonymous user.
"Hey, where are you going, Miriam?" asked a girl with blonde hair and black eyes, looking at her phone as she left the classroom.
"I'm feeling sick, so I'm leaving early. Can you send me the notes later?" Miriam replied.
"I hope you feel better soon," said the boy holding the phone.
"Don't worry, it's just one of those monthly pains," said the blonde girl spontaneously.
"Pains? What pain?" the boys asked, looking to the side, sighing.
"Seriously, you don't know this at over eighteen?" the girls seemed to say in unison.
While the girl conversed with the boys, Miriam left the classroom, heading toward her home. She saw a commotion in a cyber café, something about Dmitry Schariac being the MVP of the Seraphim, if he was indeed the Lord of Shadows.
"Schariac? Are they talking about the Lord of Shadows?" Miriam quickly walked to the cyber café window.
"Incredible, he's fighting so many people, and he's not losing? Or better yet, he's not even getting scratched," Miriam said, her face almost pressed against the window.
A couple passed by, looking at Miriam strangely.
"Love, I'm scared."
"Don't worry, she's probably just a stalker."
"Was that supposed to reassure me?"
Miriam watched Dmitry's fights broadcasted on the cyber café's televisions, with several people seated and watching. Miriam viewed from the window.
A few minutes later:
"I slept little earlier, but I don't want to leave. I need to see the end of this," Miriam said with an excited smile. But when she yawned and rubbed her eyes, she couldn't see Dmitry anymore. "Wait, where did he go? Is it over?"
"Hey, can I help you with something?" Dmitry was wearing a white jacket with blue sleeves and black jeans, his face expressionless as he looked at Miriam.
Miriam slowly turned to see Dmitry and pointed inside the cyber café to the area where Dmitry had been sitting before. "Well, do you know the boy who was playing there?"
"Which one?" Dmitry asked.
"Were there more than one?" Miriam asked thoughtfully, then shook her head and continued. "The boy who was fighting using a female character."
"There were several... are you okay?" Dmitry asked, looking at the girl who seemed confused.
Miriam started fidgeting with her hands, looking around, and said, "I mean, the boy who was fighting everyone."
"So you mean the one in front of you?" Dmitry responded with his hands in his pockets.
Miriam looked at Dmitry, then at his hair and the sleeves of his clothes, noticing the pattern similar to the boy she had seen before. "So it was you?"
"Yes, but why are you looking for me... do you want a match too?" Dmitry asked, looking inside the cyber café to see if there were any free tables.
The girl started thinking, seeming disconnected from reality for a few seconds, then returned with a question Dmitry didn't expect. "Yes, but not in Empire. Do you happen to play Altair?"
"Yes, but I don't think we should fight," Dmitry said, rubbing his chin. "Or rather, I don't think we even can."
"Really? Are you too low-level? I can use another account of mine," Miriam said, looking directly at Dmitry while holding her phone, entering the Altair game site.
"Well, I'm level twenty-nine, but that's not the problem," Dmitry said, watching the girl bite her nail while fiddling with her phone.
"So what is it?" Miriam asked without looking at him.
'Is he only good with a keyboard?' Miriam thought, lowering her phone and looking a bit disappointed.
"Well, it's because I haven't completed the initial hundred years," Dmitry responded, rubbing his chin and continuing, "and I don't want to skip them, you know."
"What?" Miriam said, somewhat surprised.
"Well, you should know, the hundred years before the ruler of the initial world is born and all that," Dmitry said, seeing the girl with wide eyes, making him wonder if he had said something strange.
"Yes, yes, it's just that I'm surprised," Miriam said, gripping her phone tightly.
"Ah, really, very few people do that. You did, right?" Dmitry asked, looking into the girl's eyes.
"Yes, but how did you know?" Miriam asked, seeing Dmitry's expression change for the first time.
Dmitry now had a smile on his face, looking at the girl. "It was a guess because you were so surprised when I said I was doing the initial hundred years."
"I see, you're lucky then," Miriam said, putting away her phone and continuing to speak. "That said, how about trying your luck with a bet?"
"You said a bet?" Dmitry looked suspiciously at the girl, returning to his usual expression.
"Yes, a bet. I want a milkshake, so whoever loses buys the most expensive milkshake in the cyber café for the winner," Miriam said, extending her hand.
"Well, no problem, but you might regret it," Dmitry said, shaking the girl's hand.
"Don't worry, you'll see what I'm capable of," the girl said, increasing the strength of her grip.