Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The irritating clock echoed in the silent breakroom. Arthur glared at the crumpled termination notice as if hoping for a change. The words blurred as water gathered across his iris, but the result couldn't be clearer.
"Three years of breaking my back for this company, and they can't even give me a week's notice?" Arthur muttered, tossing the paper onto the table. His voice was hoarse, his throat dry from the hours of pretending he wasn't falling apart in front of his staff.
His phone buzzed. A single notification popped up.
[Reminder: 5th Anniversary Dinner with Clara]
Arthur's lips tightened. Clara—his gorgeous, impossibly out-of-his-league girlfriend. She'd always said she loved him for his "kind heart" and "reliable personality." But what kind of future could he offer now?
Still, he had a plan. Tonight, he'd propose. He'd spent months saving for the ring. Maybe… maybe this would fix everything.
.
.
.
Arthur booked an expensive restaurant that wasn't to his taste, but he knew Clara always bookmarked this place. So he went all out. Dim lighting, private rooms, and dishes with difficult-to-pronounce names. Arthur sat across from her, the ring burning a hole in his pocket.
"Arthur," Clara said, her voice unusually firm.
He froze. The way she looked at him—it wasn't the warmth he was used to. It was pity.
"Arthur… I think we need to talk."
The words blurred together after that. She mentioned they "outgrew each other" and "it's not you, it's me."
Arthur didn't remember how he ended up at the bar afterwards. He only remembered the burning taste of whiskey and the haze that followed.
The faint clink of glasses and muted hum of conversation blurred into white noise. Arthur leaned back against the bar, staring blankly into space. His mind kept looping through the night's events—Clara's rehearsed words, the weight of the ring in his pocket, her pitying gaze. Even now, they cut like glass.
He staggered out into the cold night, the icy breeze biting his cheeks and briefly sobering him. Arthur fumbled his keys as they wobbled into the car lock. He climbed into the car and flung himself into the leather seats... another feature Clara loved.
"Bitch!" He yelled out with all the withheld rage, gripping the steering wheel tightly while sinking his trembling teeth into his lower lips.
"Forge your destiny," he muttered bitterly, the words from an advertisement he'd glimpsed earlier bubbling up in his mind. His foot slammed on the accelerator, and the car shot forward into the quiet street.
That was when he saw it—a massive truck parked at the intersection. Its sides glowed like a beacon in the dark, emblazoned with bold letters:
[ALBION'S FALL ONLINE – A WORLD OF LIMITLESS CHOICE!]
The image of a towering black spire loomed on the truck's side, surrounded by swirling shadows and a shining sword embedded in stone. The sword seemed to glow, its light cutting through the gloom like it was beckoning him.
Arthur blinked. The screech of tyres jolted him back to reality.
Too late.
The car smashed into the truck, causing his bones to rattle on impact. The seatbelt crushed his chest, forcing the air from his lungs as his head whipped back. Glass shattered, shards raining down like icy daggers. A sharp, acrid smell of burning rubber filled the car, stinging his nostrils as smoke began to curl around the edges of the dashboard.
A loud thud echoed, his pounding heart echoing through his ears as if ready to burst through his chest. The screech of twisting metal and smash of breaking glass gave way to a bitter silence.
As the adrenaline faded, his hands loosened from the wheel... Arthur's head tilted to the side, and his pulse slowed, fading into a faint beat as the world dimmed.
For a moment, there was nothing.
No pain. No sound. Just the echo of his heartbeat in his ears.
Then a low hum.
A voice, deep and commanding, echoed in his mind: 'Welcome, Overlord. Your dominion begins.'
Arthur's consciousness faded, but the image of the black spire lingered—a monolith reaching into the heavens, daring him to climb or tear it down.
.
.
.
Gasp!
Arthur's eyes snapped open. Frigid air pierced his lungs. He panicked, trying to breathe rapidly, heaving as if forgot how.
He groaned, placing both hands on his forehead. His eyes slowly focused on the world around him—trees? Shadows? No, they were... moving?
Grass. He could feel the blades between his fingers, damp and soft. The scent of earth and dew, but it felt strangely sweet.
He blinked hard, forcing his vision to clear. Two massive moons stared down at him from the sky.
"Moons…? Two…?" Arthur muttered, his voice raspy.
The cold bit at his skin. He looked down.
"Tunic?"
Gone was his leather jacket. Instead, he wore a rough, scratchy shirt and trousers. His hands trembled as he touched the coarse fabric.
"What the hell is going on?"
A sharp howl pierced the silence. Arthur's head snapped toward the sound while holding his breath. The hairs on his neck are standing on edge from the sudden situation.
Eyes. Bright, golden eyes stared at him from the shadows of the forest.
Arthur froze.
The golden eyes moved. Slowly. Deliberately.
A low growl rumbled from the darkness. It wasn't distant. It was close. Too close.
Fear overwhelmed him, unable to move like a frozen statue, and every instinct screamed for him to escape. But where? The forest was endless, its shadows twisting with every faint movement.
The beast stepped forward.
A wolf. No, not a wolf. Its body was wreathed in black smoke, its fur shimmering as though made of shadows.
Its fangs gleamed. Its growl deepened.
Arthurs's legs felt heavy, like lead. He stumbled, caught on a branch, and fell face-first into the dirt. A shooting pain shot up from his ankle, but he grabbed the mud and pulled himself away, turning to lock his eyes with the creature stalking him.
"Stay back!" Arthur shouted, his voice cracking.
His trembling arm reached out, grasping, clawing at the ground, searching for something, anything to fight back.
He found nothing.
As if sensing victory, the wolf snarled, its muscles tensing. It was going to lunge.
Arthur's heart pounded. His chest burned as adrenaline surged through his veins.
He clenched his fists, his throat dry, and screamed:
"HELP ME! Anyone!"
Arthur screamed with all his existence, a sharp pain in the back of his throat as his howl tore through the forest.
At first, nothing happened.
The wolf lowered its body, with muscles coiled, and narrowed its glowing eyes with what seemed like a grin.
Suddenly, a dark purple glow shone from beneath Arthur.
A vibration rattled the air, creating a sharp hum. He felt the ground shudder. The glowing purple light etched a circle of magic wrapped around his body, pulsating with an eerie darkness. The wolf paused, its growl faltering as the glow intensified.
"What… what is this?" Arthur stammered, shielding his eyes as the light grew blinding.
The air rippled. Shadows gathered, twisting and coalescing into forms within the circle. Two figures emerged, their shapes sharp and fluid, like living smoke given form.
Wolves.
Their eyes were black, with pupils of different colours. One purple, the other red, their fur shimmering with a strange dark aura. The two wolves, with fangs like obsidian blades, growled, creating low, guttural howls from their throats.
The leading wolf snarled, snapping at the two abyssal wolves before backing away as the two stepped forward, ignoring its aggression.
Arthur's breath hitched. The circle faded, leaving the summoned creatures standing between him and the threat.
One of the wolves tilted its head back and howled—a deep, haunting sound that reverberated through the forest. The shadow wolf lunged, but the summoned wolves were faster, meeting it mid-air with a deafening clash of claws and fangs.
Arthur could only watch, his heart pounding as chaos unfolded before him.
"What… what the hell is going on?!"
Arthur's summoned wolves clashed with the shadow wolf, their snarls and growls echoing through the forest. Claws raked against fur, and fangs snapped with deadly precision.
Then, the howls came.
Arthur's stomach dropped as two more shadowy forms emerged from the forest. Golden eyes glinted in the darkness, and the air grew colder.
"More of them?" Arthur muttered, panic gripping him.
The reinforcements rushed forward, their movements swift and deadly. One lunged at the purple-eyed wolf, its claws slicing through the air. Arthur's heart raced, and before he could think, the words escaped his lips.
"To your right, Scarlet!"
The red-eyed wolf reacted instantly, twisting mid-leap and crashing into the attacking shadow wolf.
Arthur's gaze darted to the other. The second enemy wolf circled behind the purple-eyed wolf, its fangs bared.
"Behind you, Violet!" he shouted.
He knew their names instinctively while watching the purple-eyed wolf twist her body, meeting the enemy wolf charging at her, snapping back with her vicious jaws.
They obeyed.
The battle was brutal but swift. Scarlet slammed into one of the wolves, its claws tearing through its smoky body. With a final, piercing howl, the shadow wolf dissipated into black mist.
Violet wasn't far behind. The purple-eyed wolf sank its fangs into the neck of its opponent, shaking violently until the shadowy form crumbled into nothingness.
The original wolf became outnumbered, snarled and tried to flee, but Scarlet pounced, pinning it to the ground. Violet followed both summoned wolves, biting down simultaneously.
With a weak whimper, the shadow wolf released a suffocating growl before a nasty snap echoed, and it dissolved into the misty air.
Arthur sat frozen on the ground, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The forest fell silent again, save for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees.
"What the hell just happened?"
He tried to catch his breath, staring at the spot where the wolves vanished, leaving small square boxes on the ground, like treasure chests. The cold air stabbed the back of his throat with each deep breath, but the danger was gone.
Scarlet and Violet turned toward him, their glowing eyes dimming slightly; Scarlet rubbed her nose against his palm while Violet sat beside him, leaning against his body as if to warm his body in the cold.
"Are you keeping me warm? Thanks... I hope you like your names."
Both wolves flicked their pupils towards him before blinking slowly, lowering their bodies around him.
That was when he saw it.
Small text boxes, like a game, appeared over their heads, glowing with a soft backlight.
[Scarlet: Level 1 → Level 2]
[Violet: Level 1 → Level 2]
"What…?" Arthur muttered, squinting at the strange displays. They flickered, briefly revealing additional details:
[Scarlet: Health +10, Attack +5]
[Violet: Health +10, Attack +5]
Arthur tried to focus his thoughts and process what happened.
"Level up? Is this… like a game? No… it can't be."
His shoulders slumped, and an ache filling his body overwhelmed him now that the adrenaline had faded. The glowing boxes faded as exhaustion overtook him, but the questions remained.
Before he could fix his thoughts, his eyes flickered, heavy as if filled with sand. His head teetered to each side before he slumped back onto Scarlet's warm body, which pushed Violet out of the way.
The two wolves snarled at each other as he lost consciousness. A sudden crunch sounded from the underbrush, causing Arthur's heavy eyes to jolt open, barely taking notice of the figure, before closing again.
A middle-aged man, wrapped in a heavy cloak and holding a sword, stepped into view. His weathered face and the worn leather armour hinted at years of battle.
"Well, lad, it seems you've had quite the rough night," the old man said, his voice rough but kind. "Don't worry. You're safe now."
Arthur's body refused to move, his vision darkening further. The last thing he saw was the man kneeling beside him, his expression unreadable.