Seoul, Hansung University, July 27, 2030, 10:09 PM.
Han Ji Hoon, a gifted third-year student, meticulously organized his belongings in his apartment. His movements were quick and precise, as if he were performing a perfectly ordered task in a world where intellectual perfection was the only rule. His eyes were tired, but his hands remained agile, focused on assembling his virtual reality equipment.
He had been waiting for this moment for weeks: the very first Full-Dive game was finally going to be released tonight.
At the university, the excitement surrounding this technological revolution was palpable. The other students talked of nothing else: the game, its promises, the immersive experience it promised. But Ji Hoon wasn't interested in marketing details. He was all about the intellect. The analysis. The system. He had studied every line of code, immersed himself in forums, and scrutinized tens of thousands of pages on the game's structure.
At 11 p.m., he shut down all his other devices: phone, laptop… anything that could interrupt him. He was now nothing but a focused electron, ready to connect. The VR headset and gloves waited patiently on the desk. He placed them on his head and put on the gloves, adjusting every detail with meticulous precision. His heart beat faster. It was a unique moment.
Normally, Ji Hoon wasn't one to get swept up in crowds. Introverted, a loner by choice. But this game… this game was different. It was the gateway to a world he had always dreamed of understanding and exploring. A world where the laws of reality could be manipulated by the intellect, a world of mathematical beauty. Ætherion.
As he was about to explore the first few seconds of the game, a muffled beep startled him. He had already launched the game, at exactly 00:00, unable to wait another minute.
A notification appeared on the interface of his VR headset. It seemed to have been sent an hour earlier.
[BREAKING ALERT: DO NOT CONNECT TO ÆTHERION. AN ANOMALY HAS BEEN DETECTED IN THE CODE, WHICH WILL CAUSE THE SYSTEM TO TEMPORARILY SHUT DOWN. WE RECOMMEND THAT YOU DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN THE LAUNCH. WE WILL INFORM YOU OF THE NEXT STEPS.]
An anomaly? He thought, freezing.
He hadn't seen the notification in time. The game had already started. And now… it was too late.
The first few seconds were blurry. Everything around him was black. Then, a flash of purplish color illuminated the darkness. The pain of transmigration coursed through every fiber of his being, as if his soul had been violently torn apart and then reattached. His heart pounded as thousands of data points—they were invading it. They organized it and almost erased it.
A cold, metallic voice resonated in his mind:
[WELCOME, PLAYER: KHAEVAR LOKHZEL]
[CLASS: NONE]
[RACE: BARBARIAN]
The dizziness slowly dissipated. The pain faded, giving way to a new sensation: the flesh of a giant. His body was different. He was no longer human. His arms resembled sculpted marble columns, his hands powerful, his fingers long and formidable.
He sat up slowly. His eyes widened.
2.40 meters…
What…
He observed his hands, then his sculpted V-shaped torso, his imposing silhouette. His black hair, sparse and tousled, formed a wild mane around his face. His scarlet eyes gleamed in the darkness. He was imposing, impressive, and yet…
He wasn't himself.
A hand instinctively rose to touch his face. His chiseled jaw, his perfect features… It wasn't natural. It wasn't his body. More than that, it was that of a barbarian. Khaevar Lokhzel. That name now belonged to him.
The world opened up before him.
But he was not standing alone, nor in the heart of a forest, nor on a field of ruins. No.
He stood naked beneath an animal-skin cloak in the center of a tribal circle, surrounded by massive men and women with bestial physiques and faces painted with ancient symbols. Hoarse cries, tribal drumming, and frenzied dances created a sacred tumult around him. The smell of blood, sweat, and fire filled the air.
It was a barbaric rite of passage. Every young warrior, from the age of twenty and after reaching level 10, had to go through this ordeal. At that precise moment, the initiates received their true name and chose their weapon of life: Ok: the one that would… would accompany them in the dungeons, labyrinths, and rifts of the world of Ætherion in order to forge a destiny and earn their place in this brutal world.
The drums beat louder.
An ancient barbarian, bare-chested, his skin tanned by past wars, approached. His ash-white eyes no longer saw this world, but his spirit perceived souls. He stretched out a gnarled arm toward Ji Hoon… or rather, toward Khaevar.
"Khaevar Lokhzel, born of Mist and Iron… Chosen."
He reached for a weapon.
The world of Ætherion trembled.
A few minutes earlier…
Where am I?
Don't tell me I'm in the game… it's far too realistic…
Where… where am I?
He put his hand to his chest. He felt the heavy beating of his heart. The warmth of the wind. The smell of the earth.
Calm down. Breathe. Don't panic. Think. Analyze. There has to be a logical explanation…
Nothing. No screen. No menu. No HUD.
Log out…
Log off!
Disconnected!!
His heart raced. An icy sweat trickled down his temple.
Impossible…
I… I can't be trapped in this hostile game… I surely won't survive it…
Then a spark pierced his mind.
Trapped in a game… but a game I know almost everything about… and in the body of a barbarian…
He looked down at his massive arms. Every muscle seemed sculpted from rock. A raw power pulsed within him, ready to be unleashed.
Not only do I have the strength… but also the knowledge.
If I combine the two… surviving in this world won't be so difficult.
A smile slowly appeared on her face. Not a human smile. A predator's smile.
Like all otaku, I have often dreamed of being reincarnated in a fantasy world…
And today, that moment has finally arrived.
So instead of panicking… I should be happy.
I know this world by heart: the flaws in the system, the cheating techniques, the hidden quests, the secret bosses… nothing escapes me.
And now, with this barbarian's body built for war, I'm sure of one thing…
I can survive. No… better than that: I will dominate this world.
The tribal energy went up a notch.
"Khaevar Lokhzel, born of Mist and Iron… Chosen."
Before him, on a rough stone altar, some twenty weapons awaited. Titanic axes, ancient hammers, swords twisted like fangs, black chains imbued with black ink. Each vibrated with a different aura.
A choice.
A pact.
A destiny.
He reached for a weapon. His gaze fell upon a war-axe-hammer. Immense. The metal was blackened, marked with half-erased runes.
Khaevar grasped the rough handle. The wood creaked slightly under his grip.
A low rumble echoed in the air. Or in his head? He didn't care.
He lifted the weapon with a fluid motion. No resistance. No heaviness. As if it had always been his.
A smile appeared on her lips. Not a human smile. A predator's smile.
"Khaevar… so that's it, that's my name here," he murmured, as this world prepares to fear me.