One blink. That's all it took to erase everything Vaelis had ever known.
Just a second ago, he was weaving through the crowded streets of the city, the blaring horns of traffic and flashing lights of neon signs painting the night in a chaotic glow. The smell of fried food, cigarette smoke, and rain-soaked concrete filled the air. People rushed past him, absorbed in their lives, their phones, their endless errands.
Then—nothing.
Not darkness. Not silence. But something far worse.
A void.
A cold, colorless, formless space that seemed to swallow him from the inside out. His thoughts scattered. His memories stretched thin. He couldn't tell if he was falling, floating, or just... gone. It was as if reality itself had hit a pause button and forgotten to hit play.
And then came the pain.
He hit the ground with bone-rattling force, like being slammed into by a truck made of stone. His lungs screamed for air, and when he gasped, the breath he drew in was shockingly pure—fresh in a way the polluted city air never was. It hurt his throat. It felt real. Too real.
The sky above him wasn't filled with city lights or skyscrapers. It was wide. Wild. Endless. A stormy grey sea of clouds moved slowly overhead, and the wind—raw and untamed—roared across the landscape like an ancient predator finally freed.
He sat up slowly, every muscle aching, his mind still fogged from the shift.
Where the hell am I? The question drifted through his head like a balloon cut from its string.
Then it spoke.
A voice. But not human.
Cold. Hollow. Inhuman.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED.]
[MISSION: WORLD DOMINATION.]
[RESOURCES DEPLOYED.]
Vaelis froze. The words didn't come through his ears. They were just… there. Etched into his thoughts like carvings on stone. He clutched his head as a rush of raw data flooded his brain—maps, timelines, blueprints, memories that weren't his. He saw armies. Cities that hadn't been built yet. Weapons. Clones.
Millions of them.
What is this? A dream? Some kind of simulation? But deep inside, he already knew the answer.
It wasn't a dream.
This place was real. The wind whipping past him, the smell of dirt and moss, the throb of pain in his spine—this wasn't something he could wake up from.
He pressed his fingers into the soil. Damp. Cold. Real. It grounded him.
The system's final message echoed once more.
You have one thousand years.
Your task: rule this world.
Begin.
Vaelis closed his eyes and let the weight of it sink in. He didn't know who had brought him here or why. But the message was clear.
He had time. He had tools. And he had no choice.
His life in the city was gone. His past—irrelevant.
This world was his now.
And it would either kneel before him...
Or burn.