The hum of the bustling Brooklyn streets outside was the soundtrack to King's typical evening. Horns blared in the distance as carriages of metal clanged across uneven pavement, while the low buzz of streetlights flickered every now and then, trying to keep the encroaching night at bay. Inside his cramped apartment, King sat hunched over his laptop, a half-eaten cup of ramen cooling beside him. The flickering screen cast an unnatural light on his features, his fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease.
King wasn't the type to get too immersed in anything for long, but tonight was different. Tonight, he had discovered something rare—a fan-made Demon Slayer game that promised more than just another hack-and-slash experience. The reviews had raved about the game's ability to transport players into the world of Demon Slayer, where they could live the life of a demon slayer or—if they were lucky—become something even more terrifying.
King smirked as he clicked on the game's icon. "Aight, let's see what y'all got," he muttered to himself. He'd seen the anime before, but he never really cared to dive into the depths of the story. It was good, no doubt, but he preferred to keep things light.
As the screen booted up, King leaned back in his chair, his feet up on the desk, his mind already halfway elsewhere. But as the game's title page loaded, the room seemed to grow quieter, the air a little heavier. He shrugged off the feeling, chalking it up to tired eyes.
The game presented a spinning wheel on the screen, the colors spinning wildly. Each segment of the wheel represented a different race—a mechanic that had intrigued him since he first read the game's description. Human, Demon, Hybrid… ??? The wheel spun with an old, creaky sound, like a draw wheel from some ancient game show. It was an odd choice for a modern game, but King didn't think much of it.
"Alright, I'll bite," King said, half-chuckling as he leaned in closer. "Human or Slayer, please. I ain't tryna deal with no demon business right now."
The wheel slowly began to grind to a halt, the blurry text flickering in and out, pixelated and erratic. King's eyes narrowed, an instinctive unease beginning to settle in his stomach. The game glitched—then froze. A strange series of symbols flickered across the screen, unreadable at first.
Then, the wheel came to a halt. And the screen blinked, the words YoU ArE ChOsEn OnE... glaring back at him.
King sat back in his chair, staring at the screen as confusion morphed into disbelief. "What the hell...?" His hand moved instinctively to the mouse, clicking desperately, but the screen remained static.
He stood up, pacing around his tiny room, muttering under his breath.
King: "A glitch? No way, I didn't download no corrupted files. The hell is this?"
He shot a glance at the clock on the wall. "It's like 3 AM. Am I trippin' right now? Is this some crazy dream?"
Before he could think any more on it, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The temperature dropped, and a strange buzzing filled his ears, like a low hum reverberating through his bones. A light appeared, bright and white, surrounding him. The glow intensified, swallowing up the dim apartment until it was all that remained.
King blinked, a moment of panic washing over him. He stepped backward instinctively, eyes wide. "Nah, nah, this is definitely a glitch! Ain't no way this game is real!"
The light seemed to pulse with power, and the hum grew louder, almost deafening. King could feel his body tingle, his muscles locking up as if the very air around him was rejecting him. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the light surged outward with a violent force.
Before he could react, everything went black.
.
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King's body jerked as if he had been dropped from a great height. His eyes shot open, and for a split second, everything was unfamiliar. The buzzing had stopped, but a strange ringing lingered in his ears. He inhaled sharply, his breath coming out as a visible puff in the cold air. He was no longer in his apartment.
No.
This was not Brooklyn.
He was lying on a bed of thick, green moss, his body aching and his mind hazy. Slowly, he pushed himself up, blinking in confusion. The smell of damp earth and pine filled his nostrils. Around him, trees towered like ancient giants, their thick trunks cutting the sky into shadowy fragments. The air was fresh—too fresh. No smog, no hum of city life, no sirens in the distance. This wasn't even a forest like the ones near Brooklyn. This was something ancient. Something... otherworldly.
King's heart raced as he scrambled to his feet. His first thought was to check his phone. "Okay, let's see what's going on here. Maybe there's a signal." He reached into his pocket, but his phone wasn't there. Instead, he found his fingers gripping something hard—a weapon. He looked down and saw a gleaming black scythe, its curved blade dark and foreboding.
King: "The hell is going on?!"
His voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like the forest was listening. His breath was ragged, and he felt an almost primal instinct surge through him—survival, survival, survival. There was no time to think about what had happened. No time to figure out how he had gotten here. All that mattered was survival.
He stood still for a moment, trying to assess his situation. The world was eerily silent. There was no breeze, no birds chirping. The only sound was the pounding of his heart in his chest.
King: "Nah, this ain't no damn game. This… this is real. I gotta get my shit together."
His eyes snapped open wide as he caught his reflection in the still water of a nearby stream. The figure that stared back at him wasn't his usual self. His skin was still dark, but his eyes—golden, glowing—seemed almost too vivid, too sharp. His hair, once short and wild, had grown long and silver, streaked with faint hints of red. His most obvious change, however, were the horns that now curved out from the side of his temples, dark as midnight.
King: "Yo… what the hell is this?"
He stumbled backward, a mixture of panic and confusion clouding his mind. But before he could spiral, the same voice from earlier cut through his thoughts.
Voice: "Welcome, Cambion. You have been chosen. You are now part of this world. Your path lies ahead."
King's fists clenched, anger mixing with fear. "No... NO. What do you mean chosen?!"
But the voice was gone, leaving him alone with the unsettling silence of the strange new world. The forest pressed in on him from all sides, like it was waiting for him to make his next move. And then it hit him—he was no longer in control.
King: "Aight... this is it. There ain't no going back now."
And just like that, he knew: his life as he knew it was over. This was a new beginning. One he wasn't sure he was ready for.
But there was no turning back.