[You Died, Game Over] the screen flashed.
THUD.
"Fuck this bullshit!" I slammed my desk, hands stinging as the plastic creaked beneath the blow.
My name's Ethan Walker. I'm 18 years old, living alone in a tiny apartment that barely holds itself together. I've never been social. Didn't fit in at school. Didn't have anyone to hang out with after. Just me and my thoughts—always me and my thoughts.
I was utterly and completely alone.
To kill that gnawing feeling of emptiness, I threw myself into video games. Mostly fantasy ones. Skyrim, The Witcher, Kingdom Come—anything with swords, spells, and choices that actually mattered. Lately, I'd been neck-deep in a game called Legacy of Heroes.
It's an academy-style fantasy RPG with all the fixings. Romance? Yep. Magic and knights? Yep. Dialogue trees, multiple paths, character builds and real-time combat systems? All there. Everything a diehard like me could dream of—wrapped in pixelated glory.
At least, in the first half.
The second half? That's where shit got real. The academy days turned into battlefield nights. War broke out. Cultists started moving in the shadows. Friends turned into enemies. Choices started cutting deep.
And then there was him.
The boss I couldn't beat.
"Is this some goddamn Souls-like now?!" I shouted, yanking off my headset. "Why is this guy so fucking tough?!"
I've played everything. Souls games, roguelikes, permadeath hellscapes—you name it. I beat them all. Pain was the fun part.
But this boss? This hidden bastard they named Fiend? He was next-level.
No backstory. No intro scene. Just shows up if you pick a specific dialogue option in Chapter 4 and explore a ruined cathedral under a blood moon. No one in the forums had beaten him yet. I thought I'd be the first.
Sixty-eight tries later, I was still getting obliterated.
The fiend wore jet-black armour laced with jagged spikes. His lavender cloak floated like a dying flame behind him, draping over those monstrous shoulder pads. His face—if you could call it that—was covered by a mask etched with pulsing violet lines. He was an enigma. A wall with no cracks.
And a single hit from him?
Game. Over.
"Goddamn it," I muttered, leaning back in my chair. My fingers ached. My eyes were sore. I looked at the clock.
5:03 p.m.
My stomach groaned.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." I stood up and stretched, my back popping like bubble wrap. I shuffled out of my cramped room and toward the front door.
My apartment was a mess. Think discount dumpster fire. Takeout boxes on the floor. Dirty clothes were piled on a chair I never used. Just a bed, a desk, and my gaming setup—the only decent thing in here. That setup was a gift from my grandma before she passed.
She was the only one who ever cared about me.
The apartment smelled like instant noodles and dust. I didn't clean—no time, no energy, and no one to impress.
Assignments kept piling up. My part-time job barely covered rent, let alone luxuries like, you know, food.
Dinner was usually stale bread or cheap ramen. Survival-tier stuff.
Click.
I opened the door and stepped into the corridor. Empty as always. Five other doors on this floor. I hadn't spoken to any of my neighbours in months.
Maybe never.
Down the stairs, past the lobby. The security guard sat slouched in his chair, glued to his phone. I passed by without a glance.
Outside, the world looked soft and golden. The sky was painted in oranges and reds—the sun inching closer to the horizon. The evening air was cool against my face as I walked the sidewalk toward a convenience store.
Still, my thoughts were stuck on Fiend.
Why was he designed like that? He broke every balance rule. My protagonist was maxed out—best gear, best skills, optimised stats—and still couldn't survive a single slash from that obsidian blade.
Sixty-eight tries. No success. My pride as a completionist was bruised. Badly.
I always went for 100%—platinum trophies, secret endings, and every single achievement. It gave me something that nothing else in life did: purpose.
But this game? This boss?
It was the first time I hit a wall I couldn't climb.
"Fuck," I whispered under my breath.
The crosswalk light glowed red. I stood there, hands in pockets, waiting. A car passed. Then another. Finally, it turned green.
I stepped forward.
VROOOOOM.
SCREEEECH.
THUD.
Something slammed into me from the right. My world twisted. Pain exploded in my side as I flew across the pavement, limbs scraping, bones screaming. Blood filled my mouth.
My vision spun.
"Cough—Cough—W-what... happened?" I groaned, lifting my head.
A car sat in the street, its front smashed in. Two people burst out—panic in their eyes.
"Hey, man! Are you okay?!"
"Are you stupid? He's not okay! Call an ambulance!"
Their voices started fading.
My eyes felt heavy.
And yet... I felt a strange calm.
Relief.
That this empty, miserable life was finally over.
"Heh..." I laughed, a bitter sound laced with blood. No one cared. My parents left me. Called me a burden. Told me I ruined everything.
Fuck them.
Grandma was the only warmth I'd ever had. And when she was gone, so was I. I was just... drifting.
No friends.
No family.
Just an avatar behind a glowing screen.
Maybe this was mercy.
"Hey! Don't close your eyes! Stay awake!" one of them yelled, but it was too late.
Too late, you motherfuckers.
Darkness took me.
But it wasn't empty.
It was... heavy. Full of echoes.
"Why were you even born?!"
"It's because of you Aaron left!"
"Just die already."
"Don't worry, Ethan. Grandma's always here for you."
Is this what they mean when people say your life flashes before your eyes?
If so, I got the short end. Most of mine are scars. Only one—her—was ever warm.
But still... maybe in the next life, I could start over. Perhaps I'd have a real family. Real love.
"What?"
"Hey! What the hell is—"
Suddenly, light.
Softness.
I was lying in a bed—plush, warm, luxurious. Not the void. Not a hospital. Somewhere new.
Everything ached. My limbs felt heavier than usual.
I sat up and felt it immediately—my stomach, arms, face.
I was... fat.
"What the hell?!" I scrambled out of bed, staring at myself. My body was completely different.
The room didn't help my confusion. It was huge. Elegant. Polished wood floors. A large bed with silk sheets.
A desk cluttered with books. A wardrobe full of fine clothes. A fireplace flickering gently in the corner.
Definitely not Earth.
My chest tightened. My mind spun.
There was only one explanation.
Did I transmigrate?