A Game Too Real
The soft hum of Basil's old gaming rig filled the dimly lit room, blending with the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the mechanical keyboard. A single desk lamp cast a warm glow on the cluttered desk—a battlefield of energy drink cans, empty snack wrappers, and scribbled notes about boss mechanics and rare item locations.
Basil leaned forward, his sharp blue eyes glued to the monitor. The final boss loomed large on the screen, a towering monstrosity with jagged armor and glowing crimson eyes. Its health bar, reduced to a sliver, pulsed ominously.
"Come on, you bastard," Basil muttered, his voice hoarse from hours of gaming. He knew this fight like the back of his hand; he had done it five times before. Every feint, every devastating attack, every pixel of the battlefield was burned into his memory. Yet, the thrill of outmaneuvering the game's most formidable enemy never faded.
With a flick of his wrist, Basil sent his character diving to the side, narrowly dodging a massive sword swing. The counterattack was swift and precise—an explosion of light and sound erupted from the screen as the boss roared its final, guttural cry.
Victory.
The words flashed across the screen, triumphant music swelling to a crescendo.
Basil leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. "That's it. Five completions. I've officially mastered this game."
The game in question, Eternal Reign, was infamous in the gaming community. Known for its brutal difficulty and intricate story, it had broken the spirits of countless players. But not Basil. He wasn't just good—he was obsessed.
Reaching for an energy drink, he took a swig and glanced at the clock. 3:47 AM. Typical. Sleep could wait; the high of victory was worth the grogginess he'd feel tomorrow.
But as Basil's gaze returned to the screen, he noticed something odd. Instead of the usual post-victory cutscene, the screen remained black. A single line of text appeared, written in eerie, glowing letters:
"Do you wish to experience the world of Eternal Reign firsthand?"
"What the hell?" Basil muttered, leaning closer. He hadn't heard of any updates or Easter eggs like this. He hovered the mouse over the only two options: Yes or No.
Curiosity got the better of him. "Why not?" he said, clicking Yes.
The screen flared white, so bright that Basil had to shield his eyes. The hum of his PC grew louder, turning into a deafening roar. Panic surged through him as the light seemed to pour out of the monitor, enveloping his entire room.
"What's going on?!" he shouted, his voice swallowed by the growing vortex of light. His body felt weightless, as if he were falling, yet he was still seated.
The last thing he saw was his reflection in the screen—a mix of awe and terror—before the world went dark.
When Basil opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the cold. The biting chill of stone pressed against his back, a far cry from the warmth of his gaming chair. Groaning, he sat up, his vision blurry.
"What the…?" he murmured, looking around. He was in a grand yet eerily familiar room. Ornate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting flickering light on polished marble floors. Tall windows framed by heavy crimson drapes overlooked an expansive, moonlit estate.
Recognition hit him like a freight train. This wasn't possible.
"No way…" Basil whispered, his voice trembling. He staggered to his feet, catching his reflection in a nearby mirror.
The face staring back at him wasn't his own. It was younger, sharper, with piercing green eyes and a mane of tousled blonde hair. His clothing—a finely tailored black and gold suit—was unmistakable.
He knew this character.
"Leon… Alaric…" he breathed, naming the most hated character in Eternal Reign.
Basil's heart pounded as the realization sank in. He hadn't just been transported into the game. He had become Leon Alaric, the spoiled, cruel heir to the most powerful family on Earth—the same character destined to die at the hands of his own father.
"No, no, no!" Basil shouted, panic rising. He grabbed the edges of the mirror, his reflection mocking him with the visage of the man he loathed most in the game.
"How the hell do I get out of this?!"