The ceiling fan wobbled dangerously as it spun, doing the bare minimum to fight off the humid air in Damian's cramped apartment. He lay sprawled on his couch, one leg dangling off the side, his phone resting on his chest. The screen lit up with another notification.

[Rent is due. No extensions.]

"Tch." Damian exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. That was the third message today.

He glanced at his banking app, and his soul nearly left his body.

₦1,573.

He closed the app before he could sink into an existential crisis. "Damn, I'm actually living on DLC trial mode."

The fridge whined as he pulled it open, revealing the saddest collection of food imaginable—a half-empty bottle of water, a single slice of bread that had seen better days, and an expired pack of instant noodles he wasn't brave enough to touch.

He grabbed the last can of soda and leaned against the counter, staring at his tiny apartment. The peeling wallpaper, the single, flickering bulb, the cracked mirror near the door—his entire existence felt like a tragic backstory waiting to happen.

Outside, the world was thriving.

Billboards and holograms projected larger-than-life images of S-rank heroes—men and women with ridiculous abilities, flawless looks, and even better marketing teams. One ad displayed "Ares, the Unbreakable", a top-tier Knight posing with his latest energy blade, his armor gleaming under the city lights. Another showed "Elysia, Queen of Storms," the strongest elemental mage in the country, casually generating lightning in her palm while smiling for a luxury brand endorsement.

Meanwhile, regular people like him? Just background characters in their story.

Damian had tried. Years ago, when he was younger, he'd trained relentlessly, hoping to unlock something—anything—that would let him stand among them. He had fought, studied different combat techniques, and even worked under a Knight's training program for a while. But in the end? Nothing. No supernatural talent. No bloodline blessings. Just Damian Sebastian, a guy who had reached his limit before he even got started.

He sighed and sat back on his couch, sipping the soda slowly to make it last.

Then—darkness.

Not just in his apartment. The entire street outside blacked out instantly.

Even the billboards and neon lights that never turned off flickered and died, leaving only eerie silence.

Damian frowned, sitting up. "Huh… NEPA didn't even give us the usual warning flicker."

Then, something changed.

The air thickened, like the atmosphere had just doubled in weight. A deep, bone-chilling hum resonated through the streets, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. People outside stopped moving, frozen mid-step as if sensing the same unnatural shift.

Then came the static.

It started as a soft crackle in the air, like an old television struggling to tune in. Then it intensified—electric arcs dancing across streetlights, skittering along the pavement, crawling up buildings.

Damian barely had time to process it before his body seized up.

A crushing force pressed down on him, locking his muscles in place. His vision blurred, flickering between reality and something else.

A screen—glitched and unstable—appeared in his vision. The text was broken, jagged, like a corrupted file struggling to display.

[SYSTEM INITIALIZING… ERROR. OVERRIDE ENGAGED.]

His breath hitched. "What the hell is this—?"

A rush of information slammed into his brain, his nerves burning as something—no, something else—forced its way into his very being.

It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant either. It was like his entire body had been rewritten in an instant.

Then, the text on the screen solidified.

[WELCOME, PLAYER.]

Everything snapped back to normal.

The power in the city returned as if nothing had happened. Neon lights flickered back on, billboards resumed their endless advertising, and the streets buzzed with life again.

But Damian knew something was different.

His hands trembled as he sat up, his breathing uneven. His head still echoed with the last message.

[WELCOME, PLAYER.]

That wasn't normal. That wasn't some random hallucination. Something had changed inside him.

And then—another screen popped up.

---

[SYSTEM ALERT]

New Quest Assigned!

Objective: Survive the next 24 hours.

Reward: ???

Penalty: Death.

---

Damian stared at the message. His mouth went dry.

"What the hell did I just get myself into?"