I woke up.
The feeling was wrong. This was not my bed. My bed was soft. This was hard and warm, with small, sharp bits pressing into my cheek.
Grit. I was lying on grit.
I smelled dust and hot metal. The sun was a heavy weight on the back of my neck. I kept my eyes closed. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. Maybe I fell asleep at my desk again.
I opened my eyes.
The sky was a perfect, piercing blue. There were no clouds. No birds. Just a flat, endless blue. It looked fake. Like a picture.
I pushed myself up. My arms trembled. I looked around.
My blood ran cold.
I knew this place. I knew it better than my own university campus. The open square. The stalls of the empty marketplace. The sand-colored buildings with flat roofs. The broken-down truck in the center of it all.
This was Dustgate. A map from my favorite game, Aegis Protocol.
It was perfect. Every detail was exactly right. The posters on the walls were the same. The graffiti was the same. The broken crates were in the same spots. It was impossible.
"This is a dream," I whispered. My voice was rough.
I tried to stand up. My body felt slow and heavy. I was wearing clothes that were not mine. Thick pants. Heavy boots. Some kind of vest over my chest. This was not a dream. It was too real. The weight of the clothes was too real.
I blinked hard, trying to clear my head.
That is when it appeared. In the top left corner of my vision. A transparent blue box. Words glowed inside it.
[SYSTEM BOOTING... WELCOME, PLAYER LEO.]
I stared at the box. I could not touch it. It was just… there. Inside my vision. I closed my eyes as tight as I could. I shook my head, hard. "Go away," I said.
I opened my eyes. The box was still there.
This was not a dream. This was something else. Something worse. This was not a VR game. I had no headset on. I could feel the sun on my skin. I could feel the rough ground under my fingers.
More things appeared in my vision. More blue boxes. More text. It was a user interface. A Heads-Up Display. My HUD from the game.
In the top left, a green bar appeared under the welcome message. [HP: 100/100]. Health Points. My health.
In the top right, a small circle materialized. A minimap. A blue arrow was in the center. That was me. The map was small, only showing the area right around me.
In the bottom right, I saw an ammo counter. It showed the icon of a pistol. [P-19 PISTOL | AMMO: 12/12].
I frowned. I did not have a pistol. My hands were empty.
Then, a large box appeared in the very center of my vision. It blocked everything else for a second. The message was simple and terrifying.
[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE DEATHMATCH]
Deathmatch.
The word echoed in my mind. In the game, a deathmatch was a mode where everyone fought everyone else. You died. You respawned. You died again. It was fun.
But this was not the game.
I looked down at my body. My hands were covered in black tactical gloves. My shirt was gone, replaced by a gray combat shirt under a heavy black vest. The vest had pouches on it. It was body armor. I was wearing the default character skin from Aegis Protocol.
I felt a weight on my right leg, strapped to my thigh. My hand moved on its own. It went down to the weight. My fingers touched something cold, hard, and made of metal.
It was a holster. Inside the holster was a gun.
My hand trembled as I pulled it out. It was a P-19. The basic starting pistol. It was heavy. Heavier than I expected. It was not a toy. It was real. I could feel the cold steel. I could see the small scratches on its side. It was a real gun.
My breath caught in my throat. I looked at the ammo counter again. [AMMO: 12/12]. The gun in my hand was loaded.
Then, a final message appeared. It was not blue. It was bright, angry red. It flashed in my vision, demanding my attention.
[WARNING: NO RESPAWNS. PERMADEATH IS ACTIVE.]
A second red message appeared right below it.
[PLAYER HP AT 0 WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION.]
Termination.
Not "Game Over." Not "Respawning in 5... 4... 3..."
Termination.
The word was cold and final. It meant one thing. Death. Real death.
If I die here, I die for real.
My heart started to hammer in my chest. It felt like a drum beating against the inside of my ribs. Boom. Boom. Boom. It was so loud. My hands started to shake. I could not hold the gun straight. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to wake up.
But this was not a dream. My objective was to survive. Survive a deathmatch. A real deathmatch. With real guns. And real death.
The fear was a physical thing. It was a cold hand grabbing my heart. I could not breathe. I could not think. I was going to die here.
But then, another part of my brain switched on. A cold, quiet part. The gamer part. The part of me that had played on this Dustgate map for two thousand hours.
This spawn point is bad, the voice in my head said. It's Market Center. It's a death trap. Too open. You need cover. Now.
My fear was screaming, but the gamer brain was calm. It gave orders.
There are cars to your left. Good cover. Move. Now.
I had to live. My objective was to survive. I had to listen to that voice.
I forced my legs to move. They felt weak, like they were made of water. The heavy boots made me clumsy. I was not a soldier. I was just Leo, a college student who played too many video games.
I ran. My feet hit the dusty ground. The sound was loud. I ran toward a line of rusted, broken cars. I had used this cover a thousand times in the game. It was a good spot. You could see the center of the map, but you were hard to hit.
I dove behind a brown car. The metal was hot from the sun. I slid down, my back against the wheel. I crouched low, trying to make myself small. I held the P-19 pistol in my shaking hands. My whole body was trembling.
I tried to control my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Be quiet. Listen.
The world was silent for a moment. The only sound was my own blood pounding in my ears.
Then I heard it.
A sound that was not mine.
Crunch.
A boot stepping on gravel. Close. Very close.
My eyes snapped to the minimap in the corner of my vision. The map was no longer empty. A single red dot had just appeared on the edge of the radar.
The red dot was moving. Slowly.
It was moving toward me.
The match had started. Someone else was here. And they were hunting me.