I stepped outside the fortress gates, the familiar crunch of dirt under my boots now feeling all too real. The wilderness stretched out before me, vast and alive. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling faintly. The sound was… unsettling, not because it was unnatural, but because it wasn't something I'd ever expected to feel outside of reality.
I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword, the massive blade resting against my shoulder. This thing felt heavier now—real in a way it had never been before. I kept walking, the weight of my armor making each step deliberate. The mist from the cracks in my armor swirled lazily around me, like an extension of myself.
"Okay," I muttered under my breath, scanning my surroundings. "I need to figure out what's going on. No HUD, no map… I guess I'm winging it."
The further I walked, the more the wilderness seemed to close in. The trees grew denser, the air cooler. I spotted a few birds fluttering between the branches, their calls sharp and clear. It was unnerving how real it all felt.
"If this were Yggdrasil, there'd be a minimap or an encounter warning right about now," I said, half expecting some scripted enemy to jump out at me. Instead, the forest just… existed.
I stopped in my tracks the moment I heard the voices. They were real—actual people. For a second, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could help me figure out where I was.
But then reality hit me. I wasn't just another player anymore. I looked like a monster: eight feet tall, covered in ancient, glowing armor, with a sword the size of a grown man. If I walked out there, what would they think?
I tried to step back, but the crunch of my boots on the ground was loud—too loud.
"What was that?" one of them said, their voice sharp and alert.
"Over there!"
I froze as three figures turned toward me, their campfire casting long shadows. Adventurers, from the look of it. A swordsman, an archer, and someone with a spear who looked like he'd never held one before.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. Their expressions shifted from confusion to fear, and I knew exactly what they were thinking: What the hell is that?
The swordsman stepped forward, drawing his blade. "Stay back!"
"Wait," I said quickly, raising a hand. My voice echoed unnaturally, deep and metallic. "I'm not—"
"Kill it!" the archer yelled, already nocking an arrow.
"No, wait!" I shouted, but the arrow flew before I could finish. It struck my chestplate with a loud clang, bouncing harmlessly to the ground.
They all froze, staring at the spot where the arrow had hit.
"It didn't even flinch," the swordsman muttered, gripping his weapon tighter.
Another arrow was already flying toward me. Instinct took over. I raised my sword, the massive blade deflecting it easily.
My mind raced. This wasn't a game anymore. There was no menu, no respawn. If they killed me… could I even die like this? And if I fought back…
"Stop!" I yelled, my voice booming across the clearing. "I'm not your enemy!"
"Like hell you're not!" the swordsman shouted, charging at me.
I tried to sidestep, but the weight of my armor slowed me down. His blade came down hard, glancing off my shoulder. I barely felt it, but the sound and impact made me stumble back.
"Damn it," I muttered, gripping my sword tighter.
The archer fired again. This time, the arrow flew straight for my helmet. It struck with a deafening clang, the force making my head snap back.
"Stop attacking me!" I roared, swinging my sword in a wide arc. The sheer force of it sent the swordsman staggering back, but he didn't stop.
The kid with the spear lunged at me, his weapon aiming for my midsection. I swatted it away with my free hand, the spear snapping in half from the force.
"I don't want to fight you!" I shouted again, but my words fell on deaf ears.
The swordsman came at me again, his strikes wild and desperate. My body moved before I could think, blocking each swing with precise, practiced motions. It was muscle memory—or whatever the hell this armor equivalent was.
But then I slipped. His blade cut low, slicing across the misty cracks in my leg armor. It didn't hurt, but it scared the hell out of me. If I could feel that, did that mean I could be…?
No. No, I wasn't going to die here.
Fear turned into something darker. I raised my sword and brought it down hard.
The swordsman's weapon shattered under the force of my strike. His eyes went wide, and before I could stop myself, I swung again.
The blade hit him full force. He crumpled to the ground without a sound, blood pooling beneath him.
Everything stopped.
The archer froze mid-draw, her eyes locked on the body. The kid with the broken spear took a step back, his face pale.
I stared at the swordsman, my sword still raised. The blood dripping from the edge was too real. Too much.
"Oh, God," I muttered, stepping back. My hands—gauntlets—were shaking. "I didn't… I didn't mean to…"
The archer screamed and loosed her arrow. It flew straight for my chest, but this time, I didn't flinch. I swung my sword in a wide arc, the blade cutting through her bow and across her torso. She collapsed in a heap, her cry cutting off instantly.
The kid dropped what was left of his spear and fell to his knees. "P-please," he stammered, his hands raised. "Don't…"
I froze, my sword still raised. My chest heaved—or at least, it felt like it. There was no breath, no heartbeat. Just the weight of what I'd done.
"I told you," I said quietly, my voice shaking. "I didn't want to fight."
The kid scrambled to his feet and ran, disappearing into the woods. I didn't chase him. I couldn't. My sword clattered to the ground as I fell to my knees, the weight of everything crashing down.
I stared at my hands—blood-streaked gauntlets that didn't feel like mine.
"This isn't me," I whispered. "This… this isn't me."