The fountain water shimmered under the morning sun, its gentle trickle so calm that for a moment Ronan almost forgot he'd just been torn apart by a monster. Villagers bustled about the square — merchants shouting their wares, children chasing chickens, a baker handing out bread with a smile.
It was the same village he had spawned in thousands of times in Eternum Online.
But this time… it wasn't code. It was real.
Ronan slowly raised his hand to his chest. His body felt solid. His heart beat in his ears. His sword, once just polygons, was cold steel in his grip.
And yet, hovering faintly at the edge of his vision was the familiar blue text box:
[Save Point Loaded: Tutorial Village]
[-10 years lifespan deducted.]
He clenched his teeth. "So it wasn't a hallucination."
He was thirty-two years old when the servers shut down. Did that mean… he was effectively forty-two now? Fifty-two if he used it twice? The thought made his stomach twist.
But what choice did he have? This world was brutal, and without his save points, he was just another corpse waiting to happen.
"Traveler?"
A soft voice broke his thoughts. Ronan turned to see the blonde girl again — Lyra Dawnwind. In the game, she had been the very first NPC every player met. The one who gave out the "Slay Five Wolves" quest. Her dialogue had always been stiff, repetitive.
But now… her smile reached her eyes. Her hair caught the sunlight like real silk. And when she spoke, it wasn't in scripted lines — it was genuine.
"You seem troubled," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Are you unwell?"
For a heartbeat, Ronan forgot himself. He stared at her, searching for seams, for code, for anything that would prove she was just data. But no — she was alive. Too alive.
He forced a grin. "I'm fine. Just… getting used to this place."
Lyra's eyes softened. "Then perhaps you should start small. The forest to the east has grown dangerous. Would you take care of some wolves for the village?"
The classic tutorial quest. Ronan almost laughed. The nostalgia was surreal.
"Sure," he said, accepting the quest. "I could use the warm-up."
The forest was only a short walk away. Birds chirped overhead, leaves rustled in the breeze — and yet Ronan couldn't shake the tension coiled in his gut.
He remembered how easy this had been in the game. Five wolves. Level 1 monsters. Two swings each, maybe three. Free experience, free loot.
But the moment he stepped into the clearing, reality corrected him.
A wolf slunk from the underbrush, its fur matted with blood, its eyes glinting with hunger. Its growl wasn't digital audio — it reverberated through the trees, primal and raw.
The wolf lunged.
Ronan barely raised his rusty sword in time. The impact rattled his bones, sending pain shooting through his arm. He stumbled back, heart hammering.
Too fast. Too heavy. This isn't the same.
The wolf snapped its jaws inches from his throat. Ronan ducked, rolled to the side, and slashed upward with desperate precision. His blade tore across its flank. Hot blood sprayed his face. The wolf howled in agony, but it didn't vanish into polygons — it kept fighting, maddened by pain.
By the time Ronan finally drove his sword into its neck, his arms were shaking and his lungs were on fire. He collapsed against a tree, panting.
The wolf's corpse lay at his feet, its blood soaking the dirt.
"Damn it," Ronan muttered. "If even the tutorial wolves feel like raid mobs, this world's going to kill me before I hit level two."
Still, a familiar chime rang in his mind:
[Wolf defeated.]
[+20 EXP. +1 Wolf Pelt.]
Ronan wiped the sweat from his brow. A grim smile tugged at his lips.
At least some rules hadn't changed.
By the time he returned to the village, three more wolf pelts slung over his shoulder, his body ached from cuts and bruises. But he was alive. And with every fight, he learned. His old instincts from Eternum Online kicked back in. Timing, spacing, exploiting openings — this world played by the same mechanics.
Lyra greeted him with surprise. "You… survived?"
"Of course I did," Ronan said with a smirk, though his body screamed otherwise. "I'm not some random newbie."
She handed him a small pouch of coins — the reward. But her gaze lingered on his wounds, concern etched across her features.
"You fight like someone who's… done this before," she murmured. "But your eyes… they carry something heavy."
Ronan froze. That wasn't scripted. That wasn't a quest dialogue line.
For the first time, he wondered if the NPCs weren't just alive — but aware.
And if that was true… then how much did Lyra already know about him?