I stared at the screen, my cursor hovering over the accept button. This was it. This was what I'd been working toward for months of sleep deprivation, hundreds of hours of streaming, and enough money to buy a decent used car spent on crafting materials.
"Y'all hear that, chat?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I did it. I actually fucking did it. I broke the game... or myself. Either way, let's make history."
I clicked _YES_.
The moment my mouse button clicked, everything went wrong.
My screen didn't just go black, it seemed to absorb all light from the room, creating a void that hurt to look at. The familiar hum of my computers died, replaced by a silence so complete it felt oppressive. My streaming setup went dead, chat window frozen on a wall of celebration that I could no longer see.
"Okay," I said nervously, trying to maintain my usual commentary even as genuine fear crept into my voice. "Very immersive. Ten out of ten jump scare. This isn't funny anymore, guys."
The temperature in my apartment plummeted, my breath suddenly visible in the air. Then, just as quickly, heat flooded the room, not the familiar warmth of my forge, but something deeper, more primal. The kind of heat that existed at the center of stars.
I tried to move, to reach for my phone or the circuit breaker or anything that might explain what was happening, but my hands wouldn't respond. Looking down, I saw why, my fingers were glowing with molten runes, symbols that seemed to burn themselves into my vision even when I closed my eyes.
The obsidian dagger I'd just forged, both the virtual and physical versions, began to change. The black stone melted and expanded like living lava, growing larger and more complex with each passing second. The silver inlay writhed like liquid mercury, forming patterns that hurt to look at directly.
A voice spoke inside my head, not heard through my ears, but carved directly into my consciousness with the authority of absolute power:
["You have proven your worth. The Forge of All Things accepts your soul."]
"This is... this is just a game," I stammered, my voice cracking with terror. "This is supposed to be fun. This is supposed to be—"
The words died in my throat as something impossible began to manifest in my apartment. A perfect black cube, roughly the size of a refrigerator, emerged from where my forge had been. Its surface was so dark it seemed to bend light around it, creating distortions that made my eyes water.
["The Forge does not distinguish between mundane and divine. You called, and we have answered."]
The cube pulsed once, and reality... shifted.
I felt myself being pulled forward, not physically but on some deeper level. My consciousness, my very essence, was being drawn into that impossible geometric void.
The last thing I saw of my apartment was my streaming setup, still displaying that frozen moment of triumph, before everything dissolved into absolute darkness.
***
When awareness returned, it came slowly, like surfacing from the deepest ocean. The first thing I noticed was that I was no longer in my apartment. The second thing I noticed was that everything hurt, not the dull ache of spending too long hunched over a computer, but the sharp, immediate pain of a body that was entirely real in a way my previous existence had never been.
I was sitting on something hard and cold. As my vision cleared, I realized it was a throne, carved from obsidian that seemed to reflect impossible depths, surrounded by weapon racks and display cases filled with implements of war and creation. The air tasted of metal and ancient magic, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the rhythmic pounding of hammers on anvils.
A floating display materialized before me, but this wasn't a game interface. These symbols were burned into my retinas, branded into my consciousness with the weight of divine command:
[You Have Accepted the Godforger's Legacy.]
[TRIAL ONE INITIATED]
Trial: Forge the Divine Hammer.
Time Limit: Until You Die.
Failure Condition: Death... of an Eternity.
["The Forge does not tolerate cowards. You accepted the anvil. You will bear the heat."]
I stared at the words, my mind struggling to process their implications. This wasn't a game anymore. This wasn't a stream. This was real, more real than anything I'd ever experienced. The weight of the obsidian throne beneath me, the heat radiating from some unseen forge, the divine mandate floating in my vision like a death sentence.
"Chat?" I whispered, my voice echoing in the vast space. "Someone clipped this, right? Someone saw what happened?"
Silence.
"Guys?"
Nothing but the distant sound of eternal hammers, forging weapons for wars that spanned dimensions.
I looked around the throne room, taking in the impossible architecture, the weapons that hummed with barely contained power, the shadows that moved with purpose and intelligence. In the distance, I could see the glow of what could only be the forge where I was expected to create a divine hammer, or die trying.
I stumbled back from the glowing message, heart thundering in my chest. My breath hitched, then quickened into shallow gasps as the dungeon's heavy air closed in like a noose.
"No… No, this can't be real."My voice cracked, the words barely escaping my lips. "It was just a game. Just a goddamn game…"
The glowing trial text loomed above me like a death sentence:
Trial: Forge the Divine Hammer.Time Limit: Until You Die.Failure Condition: DEATH… OF AN ETERNITY.
I clutched my chest. I could feel my heart. My actual, beating heart. The stone floor beneath me wasn't polygonal. The cold biting into my skin wasn't a texture, it was real. Tangible. Crushing.
"I didn't sign up for this," I whispered, shaking my head violently. "I didn't agree to any of this!"
A scream clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it. I couldn't afford to break down. Not yet. I spun around, searching for some kind of exit, a portal, a reset button, hell, even a logout screen, but there was nothing. Just the endless vault of weapons, scattered bones, and the sound of my sanity cracking one fracture at a time.
Then came the silence.
Not peaceful silence, but the kind that waits for you to fall apart.
"…I was just a programmer," I muttered. "Just a guy chasing a stupid hidden class. I didn't ask for this..."
But no answer came. Only the pulsing of that cursed message, like a heartbeat in the dark.
I wasn't ready.I wasn't strong.And I sure as hell wasn't sane enough to call this "sick" or "awesome."
This wasn't a game anymore. There were no checkpoints. No retries.
Only me… and a forge that demanded my soul.