6:00 AM.
Kael remained immersed in *Mage Legend*, the world's most popular MMORPG in 2060, its dominance unchallenged by any rival. Dawn's first light crept across the horizon, casting a golden hue over dew-kissed meadows and forests so lifelike he could almost smell the petrichor and blooming wildflowers. The game's hyper-realistic design never ceased to awe him.
As a max-level Archmage, Kael stood among *Mage Legend*'s elite. His character shimmered in mythic-tier gear: a cerulean robe etched with glowing arcane sigils, a crystalline staff humming with mana, and accessories radiating crimson runes—hallmarks of legendary equipment. His party, equally decked in mythic gear, represented the pinnacle of the game's player base. To most, such items were whispers of a dream; even veteran players clawed for rare "Dark Gold" drops.
They had spent the night clawing through *Crown of Frost*'s Hell Mode—the game's ultimate unreigned dungeon. No team had yet conquered it, and the leaderboard for its "First Clear" remained hauntingly empty. Now, battered but unbroken, they stood before the final chamber.
"BOSS ahead," growled their shield-bearing Vanguard, voice taut. The air crackled with tension.
Kael tightened his grip on his staff. The doors groaned open, unleashing a glacial mist that bit through armor. Through the fog loomed a skeletal titan—**Frost Monarch**, a hundred-foot-tall lich crowned with jagged bone spires. Its hollow eyes blazed with viridian fire, casting an eldritch glow over the battlefield.
The Vanguard charged, shield raised. The clash began.
For thirty grueling minutes, spells and steel whittled the monstrosity down. Healers chanted, tanks roared, and Kael's spells carved auroras of destruction. At 1% HP, the lich collapsed, its bones shattering into obsidian smoke.
A golden chest materialized.
**"Mythic-tier loot!"** someone gasped. The party froze. Mythic items—*true* godly gear—were rarer than supernovae. Even Hell Mode's drop rates made this a statistical miracle.
Kael, hands trembling, approached. His Grandmaster Lockpicking skill clicked the chest open. Golden light erupted, illuminating a tome bound in scales that shimmered like liquid starlight.
**"The Book of Immortality…"** their secondary mage whispered reverently.
The legendary grimoire—every spellcaster's ultimate prize. Its pages held forbidden magics: lost alchemies, draconic incantations, even **world-shattering Apocalypse-tier spells**. Possessing it would elevate any mage to demigodhood.
Kael clutched it instinctively.
Then— ***BZZT!***
A robotic alert blared:
**"ATTENTION ALL PLAYERS: CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR DETECTED. IMMEDIATE LOGOUT REQUIRED."**
The message repeated, urgent and cold. Kael tried to exit—but his avatar locked. Pain seared his nerves. Reality dissolved into static.
*No! Not now!*
Darkness swallowed him.
His final thought:
*The Book…*