Chapter 1:
The familiar *click-clack* of Leo Makjin's mechanical keyboard echoed through his dimly lit bedroom. The soft glow from his triple-monitor setup cast blue shadows across his focused face. He was locked into *Chronicles of Eldoria* — a punishing MMORPG renowned for its brutal mechanics and obscure lore. To most, it was hell. To Leo, it was home.
His Level 93 warrior, "Valefor," was mid-duel with a raid boss known for crushing even elite guilds. Leo's fingers moved in a blur, executing combos with ruthless precision.
"Just a few more seconds... come on..."
A perfectly timed dodge. A critical strike.
**Victory.**
Golden loot exploded across the screen, and his party's chat erupted with cheers. Leo leaned back with a tired smirk. "Another one down."
He glanced at the clock. **3:04 AM.**
His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten dinner. Again.
"Break time," he muttered, rising with a stretch that popped every joint in his back. He padded across the room, the low hum of his PC fans filling the silence.
As he stepped into the bathroom, a strange humming tickled his ears. Melodic. Alien. He paused. The overhead light flickered, casting jagged shadows along the tiles.
Then—**a blinding light** erupted from the floor.
Leo staggered, shielding his eyes. Glowing runes spiraled outward from a sigil, pulsing with arcane power. The air buzzed, thick with static and heat.
"What the hell is—"
A wave of nausea slammed into him. He collapsed, the world swallowed by light.
---
He awoke on damp soil.
No tiles. No walls. No ceiling.
Just an endless, twisted forest.
Above him, skeletal trees clawed at a starless sky. The scent of moss and rot filled the air, and bioluminescent mushrooms dotted the ground, their eerie green glow casting long shadows. Insects with lantern-like wings buzzed nearby.
He sat up slowly.
"What the hell...?"
Then—**ding.**
A translucent blue window appeared before him, hovering inches from his face.
> **Welcome to Aethelgard!**
Leo blinked. It didn't vanish.
> **Quest System Unlocked!**
> **Status Window Unlocked!**
The interface looked... familiar. Almost game-like. Almost *Eldoria*-like.
He focused. The window shifted.
---
**\[Name: Leo Makjin]**
**\[Race: Human]**
**\[Class: Unspecified]**
**\[Level: 1]**
**\[HP: 100/100]**
**\[MP: 50/50]**
**\[Strength: 10]**
**\[Agility: 8]**
**\[Intelligence: 12]**
**\[Vitality: 10]**
**\[Luck: ?]**
**Skills:** \[None Active]
**Inventory:** \[Empty]
---
"Level 1. Figures."
The UI responded to thought alone. Smooth. Seamless.
"This can't be VR. Not like this."
He dismissed the panel. It dissolved into glowing fragments.
**Snap.**
A branch cracked.
Leo spun, lifting a thick stick defensively. Shapes twisted in the shadows. The forest felt... *aware.* Watching.
He backed away, following a thin trail of glowing fungi. It led to a clearing. At its center stood a massive, petrified tree. And beneath it, a skeleton, slumped against the roots.
Torn robes clung to its frame — not peasant rags, but layered cloth lined with metal threading and sigils etched into the fabric. Beside it, buried under damp leaves, was a leather-bound journal.
Leo hesitated, then knelt, brushing dirt from the worn cover. He opened it carefully.
---
**Golem Maker's Journal — Entry 043:**
*If you've found this, then either I failed... or you're like me. The Fog doesn't kill quickly. It seeps into you, wears down the mind, corrupts the soul. Stay away from the northern glades. Even the stones whisper there.*
**Entry 044:**
*The constructs have begun turning against their creators. I tried reinforcing mine with silver runes, but they cracked under pressure from the cursed air. The resonance field isn't holding. If you intend to build, you must first shield the core.*
**Entry 045:**
*Fire keeps the beasts at bay. Not for long—but long enough. Mushrooms that glow blue are safe to burn. Avoid the red-spotted ones. They attract the hollow-walkers.*
**Final Entry:**
*If the whispers reach your mind, wear the Ring. It was forged to resist the first tongue of the Fog. My name was Elias. I was the last of the Claywrights. If you read this, build better than we did. Survive.*
---
Leo closed the book slowly, mind reeling. This wasn't just a world. It was a graveyard of creators.
Near the skeleton's curled fingers was a ring — tarnished silver, faintly pulsing with an inner light.
> **Item Acquired: \[Ring of Whispers]**
> *(Passive) +2 Intelligence. Grants Basic Draconic Comprehension.*
As he slid it on, the world *shifted*. He could hear the forest. Not just its sounds—but *its breath*. Its muttering.
*...flesh returns... unshaped soul... build again...*
He shook off the shivers.
> **New Quest: \[Survival Instinct]**
> *Objective: Survive the night in the Dark Forest.*
> *Reward: +1 Skill Point*
In the distance, something howled. Not an animal—something older. Hungrier.
Leo stood, tightening his grip on the branch. "Alright, Aethelgard," he muttered. "Let's see what you've got."
And with that, he vanished into the deepening shadows, led by flickering fungi, fading journal ink, and the faint pulse of forgotten legacies.