[Congratulations, Developer! You have been selected by Almighty God to recreate anime from your past life into a Virtual Reality Game and let players across the world experience it!]

What?

Wait—what the hell is this? Did I die or something?

My head felt like it was spinning, and when I looked around, the surroundings felt utterly foreign.

This wasn't my room, my home, or anywhere familiar.

Everything had an otherworldly glow, like a dream that was just a bit too sharp to be a hallucination.

[You can call this place whatever you want. You can modify it according to your wish. This will be your new home and the hub where you'll host guests from across the multiverse to play your games. Do you like it, Developer?]

"New home?" I muttered, my voice echoing slightly in the empty expanse.

How the hell was I supposed to make games?

I didn't have a clue about programming, designing, or any of that stuff. Hell, I wasn't even good at coding back in my old life!

[Do not worry. We will handle the technical aspects. Your job will be to modify and personalize the game according to your preferences. Add your taste, your ideas, or anything you think will draw in players from across the multiverse.]

[Design, script, plot, and characters will be based on the canon anime. However, you have full authority to edit and adjust them as you see fit. The finalized and completed version will be under your control.]

"So, you're saying I'm basically overseeing the whole thing while you handle the heavy lifting? I just tweak stuff to make it more interesting or unique for the players?"

[Exactly, Developer.]

I frowned. "Alright then, what's the starting point? What's the first anime game I've got to work with? And what's the deal with expanding the library—how much does it cost to buy more scripts or licenses for other anime?"

[Your current script: Fate: Arthurian Timeline.]

Fate...

Oh.

A wave of nostalgia hit me.

The word carried a weight that made me pause.

Memories of intricate plots, epic battles, and larger-than-life characters came rushing back. But at the same time, a sense of dread tugged at me.

If this game was purely based on Fate's original storyline, and if I had no way to intervene or edit it properly, then it would be absolute nightmare for the players.

Especially considering the nightmare fuel that were Alaya and Gaia—their nasty habit of obliterating anomalies would make playing the game a literal death sentence.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Alright, system. Let's see what you've got. Display the game for me. Show me everything—assets, plotlines, mechanics, everything."

"Oh, yeah, I don't feel like calling you 'System.' How should I address you?"

[You can address me however you want, Developer.]

"Then I'll call you Lily. I love Saber, I really do, so your name, your voice, and even your personality will be based on her."

[Thank you, Developer.]

Hearing Saber's voice through the system, something inside me stirred—a strange, unfamiliar sense of peace that I had never experienced before.

I let out a small chuckle, feeling oddly content, and turned my focus back to modifying my game.

There were so many options, so many storylines to pick from, all laid out before me like a blank canvas waiting to be painted.

I stared at the screen, the possibilities swirling in my mind.

"Let's see... For now, I'll make it a single-player game. Limit it to the perspective of Sir Kay if the player chooses male, or Guinevere if the player chooses female. Perfect roles for players—weak, but so integral to the plot that their choices could change the entire storyline."

I started setting the parameters. For Alaya and Gaia, they'd only send Dead Apostles or Burial Agency agents if the players deviated too far from the intended storyline—say, if they veered 50% off the main plot development.

A perfect balance between freedom and chaos.

The events would differ depending on the player's choice. For male players, the timeline would start before the iconic Sword in the Stone selection. Meanwhile, for female players, the story would begin as they were sent to Camelot as a bride for Artoria.

Each player would face a critical choice: defy fate or accept it. Female players could try to run away, rejecting the arranged marriage, or they could embrace it.

Male players, on the other hand, could align themselves with Artoria, supporting her reign, or work in the shadows to scheme and seize control of Camelot for themselves.

The possibilities are endless.

I imagined the chaos that would erupt if a female player as Guinevere resisted the arrangement.

The early Camelot was already weak—plagued by rebellion, poverty, and constant raids from the Saxons. A female player would have the opportunity to turn that instability into their advantage, either by aiding the Saxons in an invasion or becoming an equal partner to Camelot.

They didn't have to submit to their fate as a mere bride or queen—they could carve their own path, one filled with fire and rebellion.

Why should a weak woman like Guinevere be able to resist her destiny?

She might be a weakling, a so-called 'chicken princess,' but she's still the favorite daughter of King Leodegrance and backed by a decent kingdom. She's not as helpless as she seems, even if her circumstances paint her as such.

Then there's the male player option. Sir Kay would be an excellent choice for anyone unfamiliar with the Arthurian Era.

As Artoria's adoptive brother, he's close enough to influence her decisions directly. The trick, though, would be playing it smart. Step on Merlin's bad side, and it's game over.

[Do you want to change any settings, Developer?]

"Not now. Let's test the game, Lily!"

[Loading the game...]

[Loading the world...]

[Loading the script...]

[Loading the events...]

[Loading the characters...!]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[Link Start!]

Now, I played the role of Sir Kay, quietly observing from the background as Artoria stepped forward to face her destiny.

The scene unfolded before me: the young figure of Artoria, her hands trembling slightly yet filled with determination, approached the Sword in the Stone.

Surrounding her were rows upon rows of knights, civilians, and nobles, their gazes glued to her every movement.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anticipation and skepticism.

Then, with a single pull, Artoria drew the sword from the stone, its blade gleaming under the light.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by an overwhelming silence, and then the uproar of awe.

She had done what no one else could—achieving the impossible that countless others had failed.

Merlin, standing not far from me, watched the event unfold with unmistakable glee.

There was no shock in his expression, no trace of surprise—only smug satisfaction. He had orchestrated this moment, of course. It was written all over his face.

As I took in the scene, I made a decision.

This moment needed a trial, a challenge that would allow Artoria—and the players—to shape the course of the story.

In the first game, I designed an event where an NPC knight would rise to dispute her claim. Not everyone would accept a village girl disguised as a boy to rule as king.

For them, her age, her origins, and her appearance didn't fit the mold of a savior for Camelot.

The NPC, a knight named Sir John, would serve as a minor antagonist here. He wasn't meant to be a serious threat, merely a stepping stone for Artoria's rise to fame.

His role was simple: to challenge her authority in front of the crowd, providing players with a choice that could alter the storyline.

"Folks, lend me your ears!" Sir John stood tall and proud, his voice booming over the crowd as he issued his challenge.

"Since the boy has been chosen by the Sword in the Stone, I, Sir John, hereby challenge him to single combat! Let us see if he is truly worthy to bear this sword and save Camelot!"

At this moment, the player would face three choices:

[1. Accept the knight's challenge on Artoria's behalf.]

[2. Let Artoria fight her own battle and prove herself.]

[3. Make your own decision, diverging from the expected path.]

This interactive setup allowed players to influence the story of Camelot from the perspective of Sir Kay.

Each choice carried weight, branching into different quests with unique tasks and rewards.

However, as the developer, I knew better. This was Artoria's moment to shine, and Merlin would never allow anyone to steal her spotlight.

If the player wanted to embody loyalty and let Artoria take center stage, they'd pick the second choice, ensuring her glory remained untarnished.

But for those who sought power, control, or rebellion, the first or third option offered paths to twist the story in unexpected ways.

Of course, I wasn't playing the game—I was just testing it.

Without hesitation, I chose the second option and watched as Artoria stepped forward.

She unsheathed her wooden training sword, not Caliburn, and addressed Sir John. "Very well, I accept your challenge, knight."

Her voice was steady, unshaken. Sir John's face twisted with rage and humiliation at the sight of her weapon.

"You…! You dare mock me with a wooden sword?!"

Enraged, he charged recklessly at her, his form clumsy and desperate.

Artoria moved like a whisper, sidestepping his wild attack with ease. In one swift motion, she struck his shoulder with the wooden blade, a clean and decisive hit.

Sir John crumpled to the ground, defeated in a single move.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their doubts about her vanishing as quickly as Sir John's dignity.

Artoria's strength, her invincibility in that duel, had won their respect.

The knights and civilians watched her with admiration, their gazes now filled with hope and belief.

The nobles, of course, were less enthusiastic. Though they grumbled and muttered among themselves, they couldn't deny what had just unfolded.

For now, at least, they begrudgingly accepted her as the chosen one.

Artoria had passed her first trial, and the stage was set for the legend to truly begin.

-END OF CHAPTER-