There were three main classes in the world of Blizzard Online.
Argumenter.
Mage.
Beast Tamer.
Argumenters were warriors in the purest sense. Not sending power out like Mages, not calling creatures like Tamers. Their strength came from pulling energy deep inside. A different kind of force lived there.
Muscle turned lethal. Reactions moved faster than any natural body allows. Armed with enchanted tools - swords, lances, heavy gloves - they held the battlefield's edge.
At one edge of the field, mages took position. Pure magic lived within them. From their hands came fire in bursts, jagged lines of storm light, cuts of air, shields that bent space, streams of inner force shaped visible. The air trembled where they stood.
With mere speech, they bent fire, stone, water, air. One practiced spellcaster needed no second strike - foes fell long before reaching near.
Not like the others, Beast Tamers showed up almost never.
Out here among spells and power that anyone might grow, few ever became Beast Tamers. Not due to weakness in the role itself. The reason hid in what it took to begin - grueling demands, nearly too much.
Folks who tamed beasts usually had muscle behind them. Power showed up often, though not always. Many were powerful and a few were terrifying.
Ethan had been one of them.
In Blizzard Online - where Ethan spent countless nights - the title meant something different than it did to others. Not born strong, he climbed slow. Beasts ran off at first, yet he kept coming back. Rivals tried stopping him, but their spells failed. Some argued strength alone won battles; they learned otherwise.
When it finished, nobody argued.
Top of the leaderboard, that's where Ethan sat in Blizzard Online.
World Rank #1
But now, none of it mattered.
-----------------------
When Ethan opened his eyes, the world was wrong.
Darkness filled the space where his screen used to shine. Silence took over, missing the steady whisper of running machines. The usual spot for his workspace stood empty. Where he once slept now held nothing. A quiet corner showed no trace of a small animal's home.
Something about sitting up didn't feel right to Ethan. Movement came awkwardly, like his limbs were lagging behind thought. Coordination slipped sideways without warning. The usual signals between mind and muscle had gone quiet.
Above him loomed a chair, paired with a broad wooden table - both seeming built for someone much larger. Faint traces of ink mixed with the scent of aged timber in the air. This tiny cabin held him tight, its narrow space pressing at his edges without outright crushing. Light came from one lantern fixed to the wall near the table, where a thin flame trembled under stillness.
"Where the fuck am I -"
His mouth opened, yet silence filled the space where speech should have been
"Squeak. Squeak."
Something about the noise stopped him cold.
Frozen thoughts filled his head. Stillness took over.
It wasn't something he spoke. Certainty sat deep in his chest. The sound never formed on his lips.
"Squeak."
Blood moved faster through his chest.
Breathing fast, Ethan scanned the walls, hoping for a sign - maybe a creature, maybe just nonsense. Silence pressed close. Could be a trick. Maybe someone laughing behind the scenes.
But Nothing.
Nothing filled the space inside.
A cold weight began at the base of his neck. It moved upward without hurry.
His eyes moved down.
Everything broke apart around him.
"What the HELL -!!"
Back he leapt - well, almost. At the foot of his gaze sat something not quite a person. Fur like fresh snow draped every inch. Tiny. Dense.
A rabbit's foot.
A weight slammed into his chest at the sight.
Down he went, hitting the stones hard, limbs twisting mid-fall as fear surged through him. Mind racing without direction now. Air pressed heavy on his ribs. Breathing turned quick, barely filling his lungs.
"What the hell!
WHAT THE HELL!
WHAT THE HELL!
WHAT THE HELL!"
His scream tore through the air, once more, then louder, cracking under its own weight
"SQUEAK!
SQUEAK!"
Even when he pushed hard, nothing helped - just the same awful sounds again. Out of nowhere, silence broke into rasps instead.
Shaking, Ethan stayed where he was. He did not move.
Slowly, after what felt like endless moments of raw fear, his mind began to clear. The weight lifted just a bit.
This time, he saw what stood before him. Small, the frame barely there. Much smaller than it should have been. Not human limbs - short arms tipped with padded paws. A coat of white fur ran from head to tail. Sounds made the ears jump, even when he did not want them to.
He was a rabbit. A cute fluffy rabbit with green eyes.
"No… no, no, no…"
This had to be a dream.
Floor chill bit deep. His chest throbbed without letup. Fur caught flickers from the lamp nearby. Reality blurred until Ethan lifted a paw - rabbit soft - and squeezed his skin till pain snapped through.
Fire pierced his body.
He squeaked again.
A glint caught Ethan's eye - just there, beside him. A tiny stone, pale gold, barely flickering. That spark held him without warning.
He recognized it.
A shape just like the stones that held magical creatures inside. The kind Beast Tamers kept close, to call forth their allies when needed.
A flash of fear struck him, just for an instant.
Funny thought, really. Laughable, even. Getting pulled inside a game? Impossible. Doesn't matter how real it feels. Doesn't matter the machinery behind it.
He dismissed it.
Still, unease lingered.
Onward he pushed, one hop after another. Clumsy at the start, his body unsure. Balance had shifted, nothing like before. Each leap came up short or went too far. At first he tripped, again and again, yet over time things shifted inside him. Movements became familiar fast, almost like they'd been buried deep before.
Each jump brought him closer to the old wooden chair, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Once up, he pulled himself onto its seat without pausing. The table came next, reached in a single motion from that height.
Up close, the tabletop was a mess.
Everywhere, brown sheets lay tossed about, smudged with marks that bled into one another. Toward the middle stood a glass jar, its dark liquid holding a single feather, soaked through. The papers were covered in drawings - circles layered with symbols, lines intersecting at odd angles.
Magical circles.
Ethan stared at them, his mind racing.
He recognized them immediately.
Summoning circles.
Beast Tamer summoning circles, specifically - the kind used during a Tamer's first summoning. But these were wrong. The structure was familiar, yet twisted. The runes were altered. The balance was off. It looked like someone had taken standard summoning theory and rewritten it entirely.
"Who… did this?" Ethan thought.
And why?
His gaze drifted back to the floor.
That's when he saw it.
Etched into the stone was a massive summoning circle, drawn with white Soul chalk. The lines were precise. Clean. Powerful.
Ethan's rabbit eyes widened.
His mouth fell open slightly.
A sudden realization crashed down on him, heavy and inescapable.
Someone had summoned him.
From his world. Into this one.
And whatever had pulled him here… had turned him into Prey.