Chapter 1 – The Endlessness
Say… what do you think can break past a near-unbreakable Tier 7 magic shield?
A massive Tier 8 fireball, molten enough to carve out half a mountain?
Or… a teeny tiny bullet with four hundred grams of virtual mass behind it, ripping at thirty-five hundred feet per second?
There I lay — eyes scanning through the scope with a sniper cradled in my hands its crosshairs glued to the mage two kilometers away as his lips moved in the slow cadence of a Tier 8 AoE incantation.
Exhaling, my finger tightened around the trigger and-
—Tisssh!
The silencer swallowed the round's sonic crack.
And a few seconds later—
~Crack!
Like a stone through glass, the mage's shimmering barrier shattered to pieces, kicking up dust and sparks into the war haze.
And through my scope I watched him crumple like a puppet with its strings cut.
I inhaled through the grit in the air, lungs stinging from the endless smoke of spells and shells.
All around, the battlefield roared: steel and magic grinding a storm of color and carnage.
Two strongest clans clawing for Rank 1 in The Endlessness — the world's most hyper-realistic VR MMORPG, the so-called "second Earth."
And me? I fought for Clan Death-Trap.
My role?
Simple… Boring even.
But Necessary - Pick off the enemy's AoE specialists and other high value players, one by one, until the storm thinned.
Seven max-leveled tank-types NPCs crouched around me with shields angled like a living fortress wall.
And behind me, a High-Mage NPC stood as my tether, pumping mana into my veins like a living battery pack.
While I… only had one job. Drop high-value targets before they dropped us.
So I sighted the next mage, breath syncing with heartbeat as mana coiled in me, hot and sharp, spilling through nerves and sinew as it flooded the rifle.
"Iṣṭva," I whispered.
As the word bit the air, the rifle, the mag and the bullets inside, grew heavier for everything else but me, as if unseen chains dragged them closer to the earth.
Four hundred grams of imaginary weight, stitched onto reality.
Exhale.
—Tisssh!
The bullet streaked out like a tiny asteroid onto a Mech that turned its head a little too late — the round carved through its hull, blowing out a fist-sized cavity where the pilot was supposed to sit.
That was my one trick.
My little slice of luck- Virtual Mass.
It didn't look like much — a whisper of pressure, a shimmer of weight.
But to physics? To reality itself?
It was straight up trolling.
Normal rounds became gunshots from god — second only to nukes in terms of kinetic energy.
And the best part? All of it compressed into a tiny bullet.
-Tisssh!
Another pull - another unsuspecting mage collapsed mid-chant, his staff clattering on the ground useless as his wards against me.
And after a few moments of this silenced fun – The enemy began noticing.
Tanks shifted, mechs lumbered, and core players pushed forward in their adorable little formation with shields flaring as they moved to cover their mages.
"Sure, that'll help," I couldn't help but chuckle, fingers sliding into a fresh mag. "Let's play heavy."
Mithril rounds slammed into place.
More mailable.
More mana conductive, perfect for armor.
Not to mention Mithril bullets could take up to a kilo of Virtual Mass before the bullet screamed with overload.
The tanks thought they were safe with their little wards and shield up.
Cute.
Tissh!
Ripping it forty two hundred fps, and a kilo of mass the bullet shredded past tanks, mechs, their wards – past the mages and then whatever's beyond before finally boring a hole though the ground deeper than imagination.
Inhaling, I had just scoped a new target then –
-BOOOM!
The sky darkened.
The battlefield shuddered as if the world itself gagged.
From the clouds descended a shadow — vast, volcanic, and alive with veins of darkened fire pulsing though it.
Its massive wings blotted out the sun. Each beat kicking up hurricanes of dust.
The ground cracked under the pressure of its arrival, stones dancing like across the dirt.
Fafnir. The Black Dragon Emperor.
The other clan's prized pony.
Its roar was a sound older than language — a cathedral collapsing, like a mountain splitting as the air itself shrieked in terror.
—ROARRRR!!!
And gods, could it scream.
Louder than the banshee I got for a sister.
"Odin! Come in!" My comms screeched, the voice of our clan leader cracking with static and panic alike. "Odin! You alive, mate?"
"Hey, there, leader." I grinned despite the ringing in my ears. "You still alive?"
"Barely! Its Roar of Terror has immobilized most of our forces!" His voice rattled with dread. "We're sitting ducks out here. A single breath of its flame wi—"
"If I take it out in a single shot," I cut him off, chuckling, "I get to keep it."
"Dude!"
"Deal?"
A beat of disbelief later came a reluctant growl: "Fine!"
Good enough.
I could already hear the lecture on ethics forming in his head.
I reached into my chest rig and once again swapped mags.
It held just one bullet — the divine one.
Bones of dragons shaved down into casings and the bullet.
The final tears of a dying goddess ground into liquid fire for propellant.
And the primer? The sigil of the demon who killed her.
Divine rounds weren't bullets — they were blasphemies.
Only ever managed to craft one.
Pulling the charging handle of my SR-25, I chambered it with a satisfying click.
With my scope up, target was locked - Right at Fafnir's chest, and the core deep inside.
Strongest part of its body, hiding the reactor that powered the beast.
Which was exactly why it was perfect.
"Ishtva," I whispered.
And the round bloated with weight while the barrel humming as if it wanted to cry.
Virtual Mass worth a ton welded onto reality itself.
The whole gun sagged heavy, but only for reality.
To me, it was light as a feather- My feather and my luck.
Exhale.
—BOOOM!
The silencer disintegrated instantly.
The shot wasn't a shot - It was a spear of divine, demonic and draconic might combined.
The bullet left the barrel at Mach 15, trailing a golden glow so blinding it felt like the battlefield had been struck by a new-born sun.
And that dumb lizard just stood there. Proud and arrogant… and stupid.
Thought his strongest piece of armor could take it, as it puffed its chest wider.
Spoiler: nothing can.
—BOOOOM! —ROARRR!
The round tore through its chest, boring a hole into the dragon's most guarded part.
The golden glow burned away its arrogance in an instant.
And then came the core.
-BOOOOM!
The explosion that followed was like two nukes kissing mid-air.
Its massive shockwave painted the battlefield in red and gold as a mushroom of flames clawed skyward.
Every tank, every mech, every mage, and warrior too close was evaporated into nothing.
The blast slammed into me even half a kilometer away, heat gnawing through my skin and clothes.
My tanks locked their shields down, forming a dome against the inferno, their feet digging trenches into the dirt.
For a few heartbeats, I couldn't see or hear.
Just the afterimage of a god-bullet stamped into my retinas.
As the smoke cleared, The lower half of the dragon came to view, with molten air occupying space where its upper half was supposed to be.
There it stood still – half the beast it was… literally.
"Let's hope enough of our guys survived to win this…" I muttered, coughing through the ash.
"ODIN!" My comms howled again, voice cracked with rage.
"Sup?" I innocently asked, screwing in a new silencer.
"The fuck, man!?"
"Chill out." I let the scope swing across the battlefield. "We outnumber them now, from what I can see."
"Not the point! We'll discuss this at length later!" My leader's voice cracked into a roar of its own.
"Gee… it's just a game."
I swapped mags back to the lead ones. Regular rounds - My comfort food before I got back to popping dudes and mechs.
But something shifted.
And I felt it enemy eyes.
Dozens. No — hundreds locked onto me.
Through the scope I saw them — high mages with hands raised as their chants thickened the air.
Every single one aiming directly at me.
And for the first time since the fight began… my grin widened.
"Block every single attack," I ordered the tanks around me.
"Yes, sir!" they thundered, shields locking tighter as their formation braced.
I turned — and saw my tether - The high mage battery.
He was pale, with sweat soaking his robes, and chest heaving erratically.
His lips quivered as he forced a weak smile at me.
But his eyes? Empty.
The divine round had cost him more than mana.
"He won't last more than a few more shots," I exhaled sharply.
Because as powerful as Iṣṭva was, it was greedy.
Like parasite-level greedy.
And my mana pool? Laughable, Level 2 mob-tier capacity. I'd poured every stat point into regen and efficiency.
As for the other stats? I'm basically a glorified goblin.
That was the price of specialization. My greatest pride and my deepest regret.
Which meant I needed batteries.
And my only battery was about to die on me.
"Really should've went the traditional Battle-Mage route…" I whispered to myself before-
—Boom!
A spell slammed into our shield dome as the tanks grunted under its force.
"Good thing I maxed out on companions." I muttered as another volley rattled the air. "All tanks, all meat."
And a beat later I felt a tug on my shirt.
Glancing back, the mage's pale face and quivering lips came to view.
His voice was barely a whisper: "Master… I've no more."
"Che. Of course you don't." I rolled my shoulders. "Alright. Disconnect from my reserves."
The moment his link broke, all the VM drained from my rifle like water spilling out of a cracked jar.
My bullets turned light as my gun sagged back into mediocrity.
So I poured my own reserves in.
Mana flooded the rifle, sinking into mag and the bullets in it, making them sag again with that phantom weight.
Which immediately drained forty percent of my pool.
And maintaining that? Ten percent every second.
Power ain't cheap, kids.
But, then again… my regen was ten percent a second.
"Alright…" I chuckled. "Forty shots before I gotta catch my breath. Given the bombardment? Let's see if I last that long."
Whispers of silenced fire bashed against a choir of roars.
—Tissh! Tissh! Tissh!
Each trigger pull dropped another mage.
—Boom! Boom! Boom!
And each second, another spell slammed our shields, forcing the tanks to their knees.
The ground around us cracked and buckled, turning molten from the constant barrage.
And then —
—BOOM! Crash! Aahh!
One tank fell, his body crumpling beside me along with his shattered shield.
"I… can't—" he rasped, before the light left his eyes.
"Cover the gap!" I barked, eyes cold and already squeezing the next shot.
The others rushed in, locking formation tighter.
—Tissh! Tissh! Tissh!
Twenty rounds emptied in seconds as fourteen bodies dropped in the chaos.
As I reloaded, fingers moving on autopilot, another tug pulled at my shirt.
"Sir… we won't last much longer," the mage whispered with cracking voice.
"Your point?" I raised a brow, still scanning through the scope.
"We… we should relocate."
That slid chuckle out of me. "Nahh. Its lmost time for dinner."
"What—"
I'd already turned back to the scope.
But then —
—BOOM! Aahhh!
Two more tanks fell, shields shattering as their screams cut short by another spell slamming into us.
One spat blood, gasping, "Hold the line!" before a spell swallowed him.
While the spells kept coming.
Even brighter now.
"Too bright…" I whispered, squinting my eyes.
And that's when it clicked, freezing me stiff.
Slowly, I tilted my head up.
And a sun came into view.
Hanging above me, shimmering with divine light, bloating larger with every heartbeat.
The kind of spell you don't survive.
The kind that ends wars in seconds.
A Divine Tier AOE spell, aimed directly at me.
"Hey, lead?" I spoke into comms, "I'm signing off."
"Wait—what!?" He screamed back, panic cracking through static. "You can't do that!"
"Dude, I've got a literal sun above my head." I couldn't help but laugh. "How come you didn't notice?"
"Then teleport!"
"Can't. They jammed it ages ago."
"Holy shi—"
A comm broke through in the open channel, not ours but theirs. Cold, commanding:
"Target acquired. Burn this bitch!"
—BOOOOM!
And then…
Click.
The VR helmet and the pod loosened with a hiss of hydraulics releasing.
Air suddenly too cold against my sweat-soaked skin as I blinked into my room, walls etched with ornate glass and white paint that tried too hard to look expensive, and an LED photo frame in an endless loop of a slide-show of happier days.
"Almost dinner time," I muttered again, lips twitching into that grin my sister hated.
Game over - Real life now.
Same old me, though.