Ethan Verne had never expected much from life. In fact, he was comfortable with it. A quiet, 24-year-old gamer, he lived in a small apartment stacked with game consoles, empty soda cans, and half-read novels. The world outside was a noise he couldn't escape fast enough. That was, until Reincarnation Online came out.

It was a game unlike any other, the holy grail for VRMMORPG enthusiasts. The promise was simple but irresistible: a chance to live in a world of magic, adventure, and endless possibilities—as your ideal self. Ethan had always dreamed of living a life different from the mundane, but he wasn't the heroic type. He didn't expect to save the world or wield a legendary sword. He just wanted to escape.

The world of Reincarnation Online was supposed to be a new frontier in virtual reality, a game that simulated life so realistically it blurred the line between virtual and real. Players were promised the ultimate immersion—once you logged in, you wouldn't just be controlling your character. You would be your character. Every choice, every battle, every conversation would feel real. And for Ethan, that was enough.

Log In

The login screen blinked in front of him, the sleek design of the game's logo pulsing with energy. His hands hovered over the console. It felt like the weight of the world was on him as he prepared to dive into the unknown. The suit was uncomfortable, an almost intimidating contraption with sensors and wires that promised a seamless experience.

"Here goes nothing," Ethan muttered to himself, hitting the confirm button.

For a moment, everything went black.

Welcome to Reincarnation Online.

Ethan's body felt weightless, his senses simultaneously overwhelmed and numbed by the shock of entering the virtual world. The familiar clattering of his apartment, the feeling of his old gaming chair—gone, replaced by the serene silence of an unfamiliar place. When his eyes opened again, he wasn't in his apartment anymore.

The scenery around him was breathtaking. The sun shone brightly in the sky, its warmth almost tangible, and towering spires of stone loomed in the distance. The air smelled crisp, fresh—like the kind of fresh air you only imagined in a dream. It was the ideal fantasy world, a place that seemed to promise adventure at every turn.

His first step onto the cobbled streets felt… real. More real than anything he had ever experienced in a game before. His hands moved instinctively, as if they had always known the motions. A glance down at his avatar revealed something… unusual. He didn't look like himself. In fact, he wasn't even sure what he looked like. His reflection in a nearby shop window revealed a tall, lean figure clad in ornate armor, his face obscured by a hood. He wasn't the unremarkable gamer who logged into this world just minutes ago. He was something… different.

"Welcome, player," a voice chimed from somewhere behind him.

Ethan spun around to see an NPC—an old man with a long, white beard and a cheerful smile. His robes were finely detailed, and his eyes twinkled with a knowing gleam. "I am your guide, and I will show you the basics of Reincarnation Online. First, let us see if your avatar is equipped for the journey ahead."

The tutorial was straightforward at first—Ethan's avatar could interact with objects, use items, and even speak with NPCs. It was all within the expected realm of a VRMMORPG. But what was unnerving was how real it felt. He could feel the weight of his sword, the breeze ruffling his cloak, and the slight pressure against his chest when he took a deep breath. The world had been designed so meticulously that it made everything else pale in comparison.

But that was all before things started to glitch.

It was subtle at first—small bugs Ethan could easily dismiss. The guide NPC's voice cut out mid-sentence, his facial features flickered like a broken TV screen. An item appeared in Ethan's inventory that didn't belong. A glowing blue stone, labeled simply, "ERROR," pulsed with strange energy. He inspected it, but the description was empty. Just a void.

"That's… odd," Ethan muttered under his breath, but before he could investigate further, a sudden scream echoed from the town square.

Ethan rushed toward the noise, his heart pounding. The cobbled streets were teeming with players, but something was off. One of them—a young woman, barely out of her teens—was on the ground, her body convulsing in spasms. She was screaming in pain, her avatar flickering in and out of existence.

He heard someone shout, "She's dead! She's dead!"

Confusion surged through Ethan. The woman's body crumpled to the ground with an eerie finality. The players around her stood frozen, some gasping, others backing away in fear. Ethan approached slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach. It wasn't a typical glitch.

There was no respawn.

The screen in front of him flashed, an urgent notification popping up: "Player has died. Real-world death confirmed."

He blinked, staring at the words. His heart skipped a beat.

"W-what?" He stammered, taking a step back. This couldn't be real. It had to be some sort of glitch. Players couldn't die for real, right? But then again, she wasn't getting back up.

A panicked murmur ran through the crowd of players. The NPC guide, who had just been by his side, was gone. The world around him seemed to tremble, as if the ground beneath his feet was shaking.

Before he could process the implications of what he had just witnessed, the notification vanished, and a new one appeared. This one was far more cryptic:

"System Corruption Detected. Focal Point Identified."

Ethan frowned, confused. He hadn't noticed it before, but now, the world felt… different. It was as if the game was responding to him specifically, but how? His mind raced with questions. What had just happened? Why hadn't anyone else noticed the glitch in the system?

And why did he feel like he was being watched?

The Game is Changing

Ethan's screen flickered again, and for a moment, the world around him warped. The bright sun darkened for a fraction of a second, and shadows stretched unnaturally across the town square. His heart raced, his senses on high alert. Something was very wrong.

As he stood in the middle of the square, the other players began to scatter, fear and panic in their eyes. The guide NPC reappeared, his smile now oddly forced, and his voice was distant. "Do not worry, player. This is simply a system error. Proceed to the nearest town for further guidance."

But Ethan didn't move. He could feel it now—this wasn't just a glitch. Something was happening to the system. And somehow, he was at the center of it.

What had he gotten himself into?