The vision seized Elias without warning, wrapping around him like a dream he couldn't shake. The world shifted, pulling him into another time, another life.
He stood on a jagged cliff overlooking a dark forest stretching endlessly beneath a crimson sky. The air was thick with the scent of iron and ash, and by a forge aglow with embers, a young warrior stood, his face still unmarred by age but shadowed with resolve. His armor, though new, bore the raw signs of battle, and he traced a hand along the edge of a simple iron blade resting on the anvil, his eyes flickering with doubt.
A voice echoed through the vision, deep and ancient, resonant like a hammer striking steel.
"This world will fall if the sword remains unfinished. But it cannot be forged with steel alone."
The young warrior clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on the forge. He knew what needed to be done, but it was a path few dared walk.
The vision blurred and faded, and Elias was snapped back to the present as the crypt's dark corridor reappeared around him. A faint chill from the vision lingered, but there was no time to unpack it. The devourer lurked ahead, its glowing eyes fixed on him and Artemis, hunger gleaming in its gaze.
"Elias! Are you alright? Did it hit you with some kind of psychic attack?" Artemis was beside him, her voice edged with worry.
He shook his head to clear it, grip tightening on his sword. "I don't know. I'm fine," he muttered. "But this thing's bad news."
"No kidding." Artemis's bow was drawn, the string taut between her fingers.
The creature hissed, a low hum that resonated through the air, then it moved—quicker than anything Elias had ever faced. Its elegance was haunting, but something was off, an unsettling wrongness in its beauty.
Elias struck first, his sword gleaming as it met the creature's shimmering skin—and deflected off. The impact jolted through his arms, and he stumbled back, rattled.
"This can't be happening," he whispered, heartbeat loud in his ears.
Artemis loosed an arrow, but the projectile dissolved on impact. She swore under her breath, frustration building. "Nothing in this game is supposed to be like this. How does it have no weakness?"
The creature prowled toward them, savoring the hunt.
"You're ill-prepared to face me, brats!" it spat, sweeping Elias aside as though he were weightless.
Artemis and Elias both scrambled back. "Fall back!" Elias shouted, raising his shield just in time to block the creature's next strike. The sheer force sent him skidding, the impact achingly real. For the first time, he felt actual danger—as if losing here was more than a game mechanic.
"This is insane," Artemis gasped. "What are we supposed to do?"
Elias's thoughts raced, and then it clicked. "The vision!" he said, a surge of clarity cutting through his panic. "It was a clue."
"Please, do share the epiphany!" Artemis cried, dodging another swipe from the creature's claws.
"The blacksmith… he was making a sword. I think it's the only weapon that can kill it."
Artemis spared him a glance, disbelief mixed with hope. "And where exactly do we get that?"
Elias's stomach dropped, helplessness creeping in. "I don't know," he admitted. They couldn't win this fight. Not yet. It was a forced loss, part of the game's story.
The creature lunged, but this time Elias rolled out of the way, grabbing Artemis's arm. "Run!" he shouted, tugging her toward the exit.
They sprinted through the mist-laden corridor, the creature's laughter echoing behind them like a heartbeat.
"Yes, run!" it taunted, voice full of twisted glee. "Make this more interesting! Run until there are no stars left to hide under. I, Asmodeus, will be waiting."
Elias pushed forward, the weight of failure sitting heavy on his shoulders.
They burst through the iron door, slamming it shut behind them. Elias leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to catch his breath. Artemis stood beside him, hands on her knees, gasping for air.
"That was… insane," she panted.
Elias nodded, his mind still reeling. "Game's forcing us to follow the story, even if it means dying."
Artemis straightened, a spark of determination in her eyes. "So we're supposed to find this sword now?"
Elias exhaled. "Not just find it. We have to forge it."
Lucius was nowhere to be seen when they emerged from the crypt—no farewell, no advice, only the lingering memory of his cryptic words. Even the air felt quieter, as if their failure had shifted something deep in the game.
Elias opened his menu, checking the quest log. A single entry appeared:
Quest: The Path of the Warrior
Objective: Forge the Sword of the First Champion.
Artemis peered over his shoulder, reading it. "Great. 'Forge,' not 'find,' huh? Really hoping that's not a typo."
Elias gave a weary laugh. "Guess we'll find out."
Silence hung between them, the weight of the task settling in.
Artemis broke it first. "We'll figure it out. We always do."
Elias nodded, but doubt tugged at him. This wasn't just another quest; something else was at stake.
Hours later, he logged out of the game, and the gray light of his apartment came into view. Elias sat still, mind drifting back to the vision, the Devourer's piercing eyes still vivid in his thoughts. He had lost, but the real test was just beginning. He opened his laptop, searching forums for clues about the sword and the quest, even as unease settled deeper into his bones.