The news crackled across his headset, a cold wave washing over Caine's already numb senses. The game company, its voice tinny and impersonal, announced the imminent shutdown of "Beyond Reality" servers. The era of Pangaea, his sanctuary, his kingdom, was coming to an end.
A bitter laugh escaped Caine's lips. Just when he had found a semblance of control, a twisted sense of purpose, it was being snatched away. He stared at the virtual gold in his treasury, mountains of it amassed through years of gameplay. A plan began to form in his mind. He liquidated his remaining real-world investments, channeling every last penny into the game. He converted the money into in-game currency, then into raw materials, then into pure gold. He filled Pangaea's vaults until they overflowed, a monument to his despair and a desperate gamble against the inevitable.
He remained in the game until the very end, until the system began flashing warning messages and emergency screens. He wandered through his kingdom, a ghost in his own digital world, visiting each city, each farm, each training ground. He watched his creations, his people, going about their routines, oblivious to their impending doom.
Then, something caught his eye. High above the human continent, a humanoid figure hovered, radiating an aura of immense power. Caine, using his Far Sight skill, focused on the figure. He saw a small, black orb fall from the figure's hand. It plummeted towards the world below, and upon impact, it blossomed into a black hole, an abyss that devoured everything in its path. The world shattered, consumed by the encroaching darkness.
Panic surged through Caine. He watched in horror as the black hole expanded, tearing apart the virtual world he had built. Pangaea, his sanctuary, was in its path. He felt a surge of protectiveness for his creations, his people, even though they were mere lines of code.
"Metatron! Lucifer! Ymir! Tiamat!" he roared into the void. "Protect Pangaea! I command you!"
He poured every ounce of his mana into the kingdom's barrier, amplifying its defenses. His sovereigns and stars, sensing the impending doom, joined their powers to his, reinforcing the shield against the encroaching darkness. The barrier shimmered, a desperate bulwark against the inevitable.
Caine didn't know how long it would last. He continued to channel mana, pushing his abilities to their limits, until darkness claimed him. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, his mind splintering, and then, nothing.
He awoke with a gasp, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt disoriented, confused. The familiar weight of his real-world existence pressed down on him, the memories of betrayal and loss flooding back. He was Ji-hoon, the broken man, once again.
Suddenly, a wave of anger and anxiety washed over him. He had lost everything. His kingdom, his power, his escape. He lunged out of bed, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. He stumbled to the window, his heart sinking with each step.
He looked out at the familiar cityscape of Seoul, expecting to see the dawn. Instead, he saw… darkness. A vast, gaping crack split the sky, a jagged tear in the fabric of reality. But beneath the darkness, the streetlights shone brightly, illuminating the familiar streets. It was night, but something was different. Something was terribly wrong.
A system screen flickered into existence before his eyes, its words chillingly familiar: "The being has done the impossible. You have earned the right to go beyond."
Before he could process the message, a searing pain ripped through his chest. His mind fractured, the world around him dissolving into chaos. He died, not in the game, but in his real-world body.
Then, he awoke again. But this time, it was different. He was in a room he recognized, a room from Pangaea. He was Caine, his in-game avatar. Angels, their wings shimmering, were tending to him, their faces filled with concern.
He sat up, his mind reeling. He was alive, but not in the way he expected. He was in Pangaea, his digital kingdom, but it was… real. He rushed to the balcony, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked out at the night sky, now filled with the cold, distant light of stars. The familiar streets of Aetherius stretched out before him, untouched, undamaged. His people, his creations, were going about their lives as if nothing had happened.
He tried to access the game system, to call up his stats, his skills, but nothing happened. The familiar interface was gone. He was Caine, the Abyss Sovereign, in a world that was no longer a game. He was trapped, or perhaps, liberated. He didn't know. Confusion warred with disbelief, fear with a strange sense of exhilaration. He was left with more questions than answers, a god-king in a world that had gone beyond reality, a world that was now his reality. He masked his inner turmoil, his face a carefully crafted mask of regal composure. He was Caine, after all. And kings did not show weakness.
When he suddenly passed out cold.