Somewhere in England.
A woman in her twenties walked confidently down a cobbled street. Dressed in a sleek pantsuit, her every step radiated grace and power. Heads turned as she passed — some in admiration, others in awe. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was her presence, her quiet charisma, that made her impossible to ignore.
She stopped in front of an upscale restaurant, the kind where only the elite dined — a place drenched in wealth and power. Outside, men in black suits stood like statues, their eyes scanning the surroundings with military precision.
As she approached the entrance, one of the guards stepped forward and blocked her path.
"No one is allowed to enter this restaurant."
"I have a meeting with the person who booked the entire place," she said coolly.
The guard raised his hand, gesturing for identification.
"Here," she said, handing him an ID card. "You can check it if you want."
The guard took the card, studied it for a moment, and then his demeanor shifted. He nodded respectfully, stepped aside, and opened the door for her with care.
"Welcome, Lady Amelia."
She took the card back without a word and stepped inside.
The restaurant was empty, every table pristine and untouched — all except for one.
Near the grand window, basking in the golden rays of the afternoon sun, sat a girl. Even from a distance, she exuded a presence that felt otherworldly. Her face was hidden beneath a delicate veil, but the light made it almost glow, casting soft patterns across her skin.
Her beauty was the kind spoken of in myths — as if the heavens themselves had woven her into existence.
"Lady Victoria," Amelia said as she approached. "Your plane is ready."
The girl turned her head slightly, and beneath the veil, her lips curved into a smile — radiant and gentle.
It was the kind of smile that legends whispered about. The kind that could melt the coldest heart in the world.
◇◇◇
Kylen's footsteps echoed on the cold metal floor of the subway platform.
Kylen look around making sure that no one was near him, it takes him a full day just to climb the mountain up and down, he cannot let anyone take this precious egg from him.
A breeze swept through the tunnel.
A train was coming.
Kylen clutched the egg tightly to his chest. It was still warm — warmer now, and heavier too, like it had begun to awaken.
He whispered, "Don't worry, we're almost there."
Screeeech.
The train roared into the station, wheels grinding on the tracks like an animal reluctantly stirred from slumber.
The wind howled from the dark tunnel before the train even arrived, pushing forward like a breath from the underground. A deep metallic screech followed — the sound of brakes biting the rails.
The train rolled in slowly, then came to a halt with a hiss.
The doors slid open.
Empty.
Not a single soul inside — which made sense. It was well past midnight.
Kylen stepped in without hesitation, exhaustion etched deep in his limbs. He sat near the exit, his back slumped against the wall, breath still uneven from the climb. Sweat clung to his skin, his clothes still disheveled. Bruises traced his knees where he had knelt during the ritual.
Cradled carefully in his lap was the dragon egg.
He held it the way someone might hold a sacred relic — both gently and protectively. Its warmth seeped into his hands, steady and pulsing.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He couldn't tell if the sound was from the train or his own heartbeat. The silence made both feel too loud.
Kylen kept glancing at the egg, running his fingers over its ruby-like surface. It glowed softly under the dim cabin light, as if breathing.
He felt it in his gut — something wasn't right.
Everything had gone… too smoothly.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
It was as if some unknown force had cleared his path. As if someone — or something — had been guiding his every step.
He looked out the window. The underground was pitch black.
The train sped on.
Exactly one hour passed before the train came to a stop at the station he had selected — a rarely used platform surrounded by vines and cracked tiles.
The door opened with a sharp ding, followed by a metallic voice from the intercom:
["Final stop. Please ensure you have all your belongings. Travel safe."]
Kylen didn't move for a moment. He simply stared out into the shadowy platform, his fingers tightening around the egg.
Then, slowly, he stood up.
The egg still nestled safely in his arms, Kylen stepped out of the train.
The air outside was damp, and the station lights flickered like they hadn't seen maintenance in years. He walked past the rusted turnstile and out into the quiet streets of the city.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"I really know this place as if it was my hometown," he muttered.
Even though the buildings loomed differently in real life — colder, grayer, less fantastical — every turn, every street sign, every narrow alley sparked a memory.
Because in truth… it wasn't his hometown.
It was [Atlas Online].
Or rather, the world that mimicked it.
From his first quest near the harbor to the final raid in the Black Cathedral, Kylen had walked these virtual streets for years. He had memorized every shortcut, every hidden store, even the best places to watch the sunrise from a rooftop. And now he was walking through those same streets, not as a player — but as a part of the game.
This world was no longer rendered in pixels.
It was real.
His legs moved on instinct, even though his body ached with fatigue. The lights above buzzed faintly, casting elongated shadows across the sidewalk as he turned one last corner.
A modest apartment building stood before him.
The walls were faded. The mailbox was slightly dented. But the moment Kylen saw it, something settled in his chest.
Familiarity.
He climbed the stairs, reached the door labeled 305, and unlocked it with a key he didn't remember picking up — but somehow had in his pocket.
The door creaked open.
Warm air greeted him. The kind of warmth that didn't come from a heater, but from a place that felt safe.
He placed the egg gently on a pile of pillows on the couch, like a parent tucking a child into bed.
Then, with a long sigh, he collapsed onto the floor beside it.
"I'm home," he whispered.
Not in the real world.
Not in the game.
But somewhere in between.
To Be Continued...