The guild hall of Nightfall Hunters was a monument to dominance—its blackstone walls humming with power, the ceiling made of enchanted glass reflecting the stars of a world that never truly slept.
At the center stood Ethan Vale, a legend.
Level 200.
Title: Voidbreaker.
Leader of one of the most feared guilds in Gods' Playground.
He had conquered dungeons others deemed suicidal. He'd faced gods, devils, and system anomalies. His twin crossbows, Seraphbane and Widow's Bite, were trophies from world bosses no longer in existence.
Yet now, he stood alone.
Before him: Miranda—his stepsister.
Beside her: Kael, his strategist and childhood friend.
And behind them: Lyra, the only woman he had trusted.
"You're being removed," Miranda said coldly. "By contract. Council vote. Effective immediately."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Based on what?"
Kael held up a shimmering contract scroll, bound in divine runes. "Clause 9C. A leader can be expelled if considered mentally compromised or a threat to the guild's vision."
"You mean if he starts asking the wrong questions," Ethan muttered, pacing the edge of the dais.
"This game—Gods' Playground—was never announced. No devs. No servers. And yet… here we are. Fully immersed. Real pain. Real emotion. Real death."
He glared at them.
"I broke into glitch zones. I found NPCs without code. They remembered me even after resets. I saw a shrine that shouldn't exist. I heard something whisper my name when I logged off."
Kael shook his head. "You lost your mind."
Ethan's voice rose, fierce and sharp. "Or maybe I found the truth."
Then, he turned to the guild hall.
"You all watched me rise. You followed me into the abyss. And now you just… stay quiet?"
Silence.
He clenched his fists.
Then spoke the words that would shatter the sky.
"Did the gods pay you for this betrayal?"
BOOM!
The hall shook violently. Lightning tore through the sky-dome above. The HUDs of every player flickered, their names glitched out.
And then—it appeared.
From the shadows behind the council platform… a black figure emerged.
No name. No tag.
But above its head:
> [??? – LV. 300]
Ethan's instincts screamed. He spun, crossbows drawn, and fired—BANG—BANG—BANG!
Bolts of divine energy tore through the air. One hit.
The figure jerked—but didn't flinch. It turned toward him.
And Ethan saw its eyes.
Icy. Merciless. Infinite.
Cold.
Then—it vanished.
Ethan barely had time to process when—
shhk!
A dagger slid into his back.
Piercing his heart.
His body trembled.
> [Soulfang Dagger – Cursed Artifact]
[Final Death Condition Fulfilled]
He turned—
Miranda.
There are no tears just a cold voice.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He said if I didn't do it, we'd all die."
"He…?"
Then Ethan understood. It wasn't the council.
It wasn't the guild.
It was him.
The shadow.
He dropped to one knee, pain erupting through his chest.
But death did not come peacefully.
The shadow stepped forward, hand outstretched.
Black flames erupted from Ethan's body.
> [You are being erased.]
Ethan screamed as his flesh blistered, his soul pulled out of sync with the system.
He looked up one last time—and the shadow looked back.
Those eyes…
Not of rage. Not of malice.
Just cold, quiet judgment.
Miranda's voice trembled now, realizing what had come.
"You shouldn't have said their name…"
The world burned white.
Ethan's eyes flew open.
His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his brow, soaking the thin bedsheets beneath him. The air was still. Familiar.
Too familiar.
Peeling paint on the ceiling. Cracks in the walls. A dusty desk. A rusted fan turning slowly overhead.
His room.
His old room.
He sat up slowly.
"No..."
His voice was hoarse.
He looked at his hands. Smooth. Young. Unscarred.
He rushed to the mirror—his breath caught.
His reflection was that of a teenager again. Seventeen. Not a battle-hardened Hunter who had reached Level 200.
A laptop beeped beside him.
> [Gods' Playground – Closed Beta Launch: 1 hour, 42 minutes]
Ethan stood still, letting the moment sink in.
He had returned.
Fifteen years in the past.
A second chance.
BZZZ!
His old phone buzzed on the nightstand. The name flashing on the screen sent a spike of cold rage down his spine.
> [Miranda – Step Sister]
He stared at it.
She had played the role of his sister. His partner. His friend.
But in the end, she had signed his death warrant.
Ethan answered without hesitation.
"Hello?"
"Ethan!" Miranda's voice chirped brightly. "Good morning, sleepyhead! Big day today, huh? Beta test launching soon!"
He said nothing.
"Anyway," she continued casually, "I sent over a little contract for the guild. Just some pre-launch stuff. Shared leadership, vote rights—super simple, really. All the top guilds are doing it. Let's be fair from the start, right?"
He replied coldly.
"I'm not signing."
There was silence on the other end.
Then her voice came again—slower. Sharper.
"What?"
"I said," Ethan repeated, his tone like ice, "I'm not signing."
A moment passed.
The sweetness in Miranda's voice dissolved.
She laughed bitterly. "Wow. So stubborn. Still playing the lone wolf?"
Ethan didn't respond.
"I'm giving you a golden opportunity, Ethan," she said, voice tight. "You really want to throw it away? You'll regret this. Don't blame me when you're left behind. Again."
He hung up.
No dramatic reply. No warning. No anger.
Just silence.
The screen on his laptop blinked.
> [Gods' Playground – Servers Opening Soon]
Ethan stared at it, eyes calm.
In the past, he had been too trusting.
Too slow.
Too soft.
Not this time.
A tense silence hung in the air as Ethan clenched his fists, his gaze lingering on three specific faces in his mind.
Lysra — the woman he once loved, who whispered promises of forever while stabbing him in the back.
Miranda — his own stepsister, whose jealousy ran deeper than blood, the one who orchestrated the betrayal.
Kael — his closest friend, his right hand in battle, who had sold him out for power and status.
Ethan's heart burned, not with sorrow — but with hatred cold enough to freeze the world.
"You all betrayed me..." he thought, his eyes narrowing into icy slits.
"Lysra. Miranda. Kael. You think it ends here?"
A low, bitter chuckle escaped his lips as his vision darkened with rage.
"I will send you to hell," he muttered under his breath, the words sharp and cruel. "I will destroy you... slowly."
His laughter echoed through the emptying old bedroom—cold, hollow, and full of promise. It wasn't madness. It was a vow.
They thought they'd erased him.
They were wrong.