The heavy adamantite doors of the Throne Room slammed shut, sealing the panic inside.
Outside, the hallway was silent. Inside, forty of the most powerful entities in the New World stood frozen, their eyes locked on the empty throne where their master had sat mere moments ago.
Ainz had teleported. He hadn't walked. He hadn't given a dismissal. He had simply issued a command for "Total Lockdown" and vanished to his chambers.
"He was... trembling," Aura whispered. Her long elf ears twitched, straining for a sound that wasn't there. "I saw his hand shaking."
"Impossible," Cocytus breathed, steam hissing from his icy mandibles. The insectoid warrior gripped his halberd so tight the haft creaked. "Ainz-sama. Knows. No. Fear."
"He does if the threat is absolute."
Albedo turned, her wings snapping open with the sound of a cracking whip. Her smile was gone. In its place was the cold, reptilian focus of the Overseer. "He sensed something. Something we, in our incompetence, missed."
She paced the dais, her armored boots grinding sparks against the floor.
"We spoke of the Theocracy. We spoke of Dragon Lords. Mere insects." Albedo gestured violently at the map Demiurge had conjured earlier. "Ainz-sama dismissed them instantly. Why? Because he saw beyond the map. He looked at the ceiling."
Demiurge adjusted his glasses. The lenses were opaque, hiding the calculating terror in his eyes.
"You believe the threat comes from above?"
"Not above, Demiurge. Beyond," Albedo hissed. "He looked at the sky as if the sky itself was the enemy. He mentioned... an 'Expansion'."
The word hung in the air. It meant nothing to them.
Demiurge's tail stiffened. "Expansion. To expand. To encroach. A spatial invasion? An outer god attempting to overwrite our dimension?"
"Precisely." Albedo's logic jumped the gap with terrifying confidence. "We thought we were conquering a world. Ainz-sama has realized the world itself is being replaced."
"Then we have failed him," Mare sniffled, clutching his staff. "We didn't see it."
"No." Demiurge smiled, though it was a rictus of stress. "We have not failed yet. If the Supreme One orders a lockdown, it is because he wishes to protect us while he analyzes the enemy. He is facing the storm alone."
Albedo's expression darkened. Her fingers curled, scratching grooves into her own armor.
"Alone? Again?" Her voice dropped to a growl that made even Cocytus step back. "He intends to fight for us? No. No. If a god is coming to kill my beloved, I will tear the wings off that god and feed them to him."
She turned to the Shadow Demons lingering in the corners.
"Double the sentries on the 9th Floor. If a dust mote enters the Royal Suite without permission, I want the sentry responsible executed. Understood?"
Nazarick – The 9th Floor – The Master's Room
Ainz Ooal Gown, ruler of death and conqueror of nations, was currently hyperventilating.
Or he would have been, if he had lungs. Instead, he was pacing in frantic circles, his skeletal feet making a rhythmic clack-clack-clack on the luxury carpet.
Status. Status check. GM Call. Log out.
He swiped his hand through the air.
Nothing happened. The Yggdrasil console didn't appear.
Of course not, you idiot. The console hasn't worked for years.
But the icon was there. It hovered in the bottom right corner of his vision, persistently semi-transparent.
[Log Out] (Locked)
[Server Synch: 0.04%]
"It's real," Ainz muttered. His voice lacked its usual basso rumble; it sounded thin, stripped of the magical reverb he used to intimidate subordinates.
He stopped pacing and stared at his bony hands.
The 'Expansion Pack' notification from the throne room hadn't been a hallucination. But what did it mean? The game servers were shut down. He was in a real world. Was Yggdrasil 2.0 launching? Was this world being patched?
If this was an update... what happened to the "outdated" assets?
A chilling thought struck him. Am I an outdated asset?
If the developers were rebooting the server, would they wipe the NPCs? Would they delete Nazarick? Would they look at a Japanese salaryman illegally occupying an overlord avatar and decide to format his hard drive?
"Calm down," he told himself. "Panic creates mistakes."
A green light washed over him. His emotional spikes flatlined. The terror vanished, replaced by a cold, logical drive.
Ainz sat on his massive bed. He needed data.
"Icon," he said aloud. No reaction.
He focused his will on the 'Log Out' button. He tried to mentally 'click' it.
BZZZT.
A jolt of pain—actual, searing pain like a static shock—zipped up his arm.
[System Alert: Combat State Active. Cannot Log Out.]
Combat state?
Ainz stood up, instantly scanning the room. He grabbed the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown floating nearby. The room was empty. The magical sensors showed no intruders.
I'm in a combat state? With who?
Wait.
In Yggdrasil, 'Combat State' didn't just mean fighting. It meant being in a hostile zone where agro was possible.
If the System considered the entire New World a 'Hostile Zone' due to the synchronization...
"Excuse me."
The voice came from the door. Ainz whirled around, staff raised, a spell on the tip of his tongue.
It was Sebas Tian. The Head Butler stood motionless, unphased by the sudden hostility, holding a silver platter with a glass of blood-red liquid.
Ainz lowered the staff. His heart—figuratively—hammered. Right. Sebas. I didn't lock the door to the servants.
"Ainz-sama," Sebas bowed deep, his beard gray and perfectly trimmed. "Forgive the intrusion. You requested absolute solitude, but..."
"But?"
"The stars are moving."
Ainz's nonexistent eyebrows raised. "Explain."
"The false sky on the 6th Floor," Sebas said, his tone grave. "The stars are shifting positions. Mare is... distressed. He cannot control the weather cycles. And Pestonya reports that the ambient mana in the air has changed 'flavor.'"
Flavor?
"It tastes... sharper," Sebas clarified. "Like iron."
Ainz felt the cold logic of the suppression passive holding him together. The environment was changing. The mechanics of the world were being rewritten by the download.
"Is it harmful?" Ainz asked.
"Not to us. But two Homunculus maids fainted in the hallway. They are receiving treatment."
Ainz moved. "Sebas, gather the Guardians in the round table room. Immediate strategic conference. Do not alarm the lower-floor denizens."
"It shall be done." Sebas turned to leave.
"And Sebas?"
The butler paused.
"If you see anything... unfamiliar," Ainz chose his words carefully, trying to sound cryptic rather than clueless. "Anything that appears like a glitch in a weaving, or text floating in the air... do not touch it."
Sebas's eyes narrowed. He didn't ask what 'text in the air' meant. He simply categorized it as a Class-S Threat.
"Understood, my lord. We shall be vigilant against these... invisible runes."
The door closed.
Ainz slumped. Invisible runes. God, I hope they buy that.
He looked at the percentage counter again.
[Server Synch: 0.10%]
It was speeding up.
Conference Room – 30 Minutes Later
The round table was made of obsessive, shining obsidian. Around it sat the absolute peaks of Yggdrasil's customization options.
Demiurge, Albedo, Shalltear, Aura, Mare, Cocytus, and Sebas. They looked at Ainz with eyes full of absolute faith. They expected a plan. They expected their god to tell them he had already won the war before it started.
Ainz sat at the head of the table, interlocking his fingers to hide the fact that he was fiddling with his rings nervously.
Okay, Satoru. This is it. The bullshit performance of a lifetime.
"My loyal Guardians," Ainz began. His voice filled the room. "We face a turning point."
"Sasuga," Demiurge whispered reflexively.
Ainz ignored him. "I have detected a shift in the fundamental laws of this world. A... wave. It originates from outside our reality."
"Outside?" Shalltear licked her lips. "Like the entities that mind-controlled me?"
"Far worse," Ainz said gravely. "The Creators."
A hush fell over the table. The NPCs knew the Supreme Beings as their creators, but Ainz was referring to something else—the Yggdrasil Devs. The unseen gods who tweaked stats and nerfed builds.
"They are rewriting the rules," Ainz lied—or told the truth; he wasn't sure. "I call this phenomenon... The Expansion."
He saw Demiurge's eyes light up. The devil pulled out a notepad.
"The expansion of the battlefield," Demiurge muttered, scribbling. "Dimensional rewriting."
"Yes," Ainz rolled with it. "As such, our previous strategies regarding the Kingdoms are paused. We must secure our own existence first. Albedo."
"Yes, my love!"
"Is the treasury secure?"
"Lockdown initiated. Only you can enter."
"Good. Now, report on the surface anomalies."
Aura raised her hand. "Ainz-sama! The surveillance mirrors are acting weird. Some areas are... fuzzy? Like static?"
"Show me."
Aura manipulated a crystal monitor in the center of the table. It showed the sweeping plains near the Great Tomb.
Or, it showed where they used to be.
In the middle of the grasslands, a massive square of blackness existed. It wasn't shadow. It was a void. The grass stopped abruptly at a straight line, cutting off as if sliced by a razor. Beyond the line was nothingness.
And then, before their eyes, the nothingness rendered.
Blocks of gray stone slammed into existence from the ground up. Then textures applied themselves—cracked mossy patterns. Then trees popped into being, not growing, but appearing instantly in full bloom.
A ruin was constructing itself out of thin air.
"Space manipulation?" Cocytus rattled. "High-tier magic."
"No," Ainz said. He recognized the assets. He'd seen that specific texture pack a thousand times in the Helheim swamps.
They're porting Yggdrasil dungeon assets into the New World.
"A fortress," Albedo surmised. "A forward operating base for the enemy?"
Ainz watched as the structure completed. It was a temple. And standing at the entrance wasn't a player. It was a mob. A level 60 Skeletal Centurion.
In Yggdrasil, a Level 60 mob was trash. Ainz could sneeze it out of existence.
But in the New World? A Level 60 monster was a calamity-class disaster that could wipe out the Empire single-handedly. And it just spawned ten kilometers from his front door.
"A summoning," Demiurge noted. "Automatic and perpetual."
"Guardians," Ainz said, standing up. "That is a Test Server."
They looked at him, confused.
"A... trial?" Mare asked.
"A Dungeon," Ainz corrected himself, slipping into gaming terminology before catching himself. "A challenge locus. Albedo, take a squad. Test the defenses. Do not destroy it. Gauge its strength."
"At once, Ainz-sama!"
Ainz watched the screen. The counter in his vision clicked again.
[Server Synch: 0.15%]
[New Event: The Tower of Agony has spawned.]
[Player Location Detected: 1]
Ainz's eye sockets flared.
The notification wasn't just for him.
In the Slane Theocracy, deep within the Black Scripture's sanctum, a girl with black and white hair clutching a Rubik's cube suddenly looked up.
And in the floating castle of Eryuentiu, a dragon coiled around a guild weapon opened its eyes.
The message had appeared for everyone with a Player interface.
Ainz wasn't just fighting the Devs. He was being pinged on the map.
"Change of plans," Ainz said, his voice cold as liquid nitrogen. "Demiurge. Send Gargantua to block the path to that temple."
"Gargantua? The Siege Golem?" Demiurge blinked. "That seems... excessive for a stone hut."
"It is not for the hut," Ainz said. He walked to the window, looking out at the darkening, glitching horizon.
"It is for the guests who are coming to investigate it."
Ainz clenched his fist.
Come then, you shitty devs. I spent ten years grinding this account. You think a patch is going to delete me?
"I am Ainz Ooal Gown," he said to the room, and to himself. "And I do not accept terms and conditions."