What he saw stole his breath: a sprawling battlefield stretching to the horizon, where soldiers in distinct blue and green livery clashed in a frenzied melee. Each faction fought under their banner, one bearing the coiled image of a black serpent, the other an intricate yellow sigil shaped like a sunburst. The visceral reality struck Luke harder than any faded memory of Earth. There was no detachment here, no muted rubble-strewn landscapes like the ones he’d left behind. This was violently, terribly alive.
The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blood, the acrid stench of sweat and fear. Soldiers screamed in pain; weapons collided with bone-crunching finality. This wasn’t a game. It was slaughter. Before Luke could fully process the scene, a soft chime sounded, seemingly inside his head, followed by the sudden appearance of glowing text overlaying his vision:
~ Quest Alert: Welcome to Shadowed Dawn! ~
Choosing Sides.
Spawned in the middle of an active war zone, you must choose a faction to align yourself with.
Reward: Faction allegiance, experience boost.
Failure: Declared an outcast.
Good luck! Remember: standing still is a quick way to get killed.
Luke stared at the ethereal screen, dumbfounded. “Standing still? Great advice,” he muttered, the words dry in his throat. He mentally swiped the notification away, more annoyed than helped. “Is this really how they introduce you to this place?”
A flash of movement caught his eye, a soldier clad in blue, armor glinting as he raised a longsword, metal screaming as he barely turned aside a vicious downward chop. Luke’s gaze shifted to the green-clad opponent, their curved blade swinging toward the blue soldier’s exposed side. The ferocity of their movements sent a jolt of raw panic through him.
Another chime broke through his spiraling thoughts:
~ Tutorial Tip: Battlefield Basics ~
Observe your surroundings. Identify friend from foe. Green = Bad. Blue = Probably Less Bad. Choose.
Note: Dying is highly likely.
Luke couldn’t help but snort despite the surrounding carnage. “Alright, blue it is,” he said, his voice trembling slightly as he forced his legs to move.
As Luke cautiously made his way toward the blue banners, dodging stray arrows and skirting wide around dueling soldiers, another notification appeared:
~ Quest Update: Choosing Sides ~
Progress: 40% alignment towards Jefferson Imperium (Blue Faction). Continue moving towards allied forces.
“Factions have progress bars?” Luke muttered, hastiliy ducking low as an arrow whizzed past his ear with a menacing thrum. His heart hammered against his ribs, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The sheer reality of combat pressed down on him, making every step feel heavy as lead. Was he going to get pinged every time he took a step for— “Ahh!”
He threw himself sideways just as a massive fireball plummeted from the sky, exploding near where he had stood moments before. Heat washed over him even from his prone position, the air crackling, the smell of ozone sharp and terrifying. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling into what looked like a staging area or rough camp for the blue faction, a cluster of soldiers catching their breath amid the chaos.
A gruff voice cut through the din: “What in the name of Jefferson’s glory are ya standin’ there gawkin’ for, boy? Grab a weapon and make yerself useful!”
Luke turned to see a burly man with a thick accent, maybe Irish or Scottish, pointing toward a rack teeming with weapons. Swords, axes, bows – each gleamed with grim purpose. “Get yer kit and fall in line! Commander’s orders are comin’!”
Luke hesitated, his eyes scanning the weapons. His gaze landed on a pair of simple steel daggers, their design unassuming but potentially deadly.
~ New Weapon Equipped: Steel Daggers (Common) ~
+2 Attack Power.
Lightweight. Suitable for beginners.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Description: Pointy end goes in the enemy.
“Suitable for beginners,” Luke said, picking them up. He gave them a hesitant, awkward swing. He had never used a weapon before, never needed to, not really. “Pointy end towards the enemy,” he repeated grimly, strapping them to his belt.
Another chime:
~ Tutorial Tip: Weapon Handling ~
Current Proficiency (Daggers): Abysmal.
Recommendation: Practice required to unlock advanced techniques and avoid self-injury.
Luke sighed, forcing his hands to steady. “This is going to really suck.”
A soldier nearby shoved a set of worn leather armor into his hands, jerking his head toward the vaguely defined front line. “You’ll need this,” the soldier grunted before turning and jogging back into the fray, disappearing into the swirling dust and violence.
Luke stood on the edge of chaos, the unfamiliar weight of the leather armor and the cold steel daggers suddenly feeling heavier than they should. Ahead, the battlefield stretched out, a terrifying kaleidoscope, blurs of green and blue clashing in violent, frenetic waves. Every step forward felt like stepping closer to his own grave, but standing still wasn’t an option either. The gruff soldier who had yelled at him moments ago was nearby, barking orders at anyone who paused for breath.
Luke hesitated, his gaze darting toward the mass of blue-clad soldiers forming rough ranks ahead. He had chosen his faction. Now, somehow, he had to survive it.
Another chime sounded in his head, less jarring this time, but no less demanding:
~ Quest Update: Choosing Sides ~
Status: Faction allegiance with the Jefferson Imperium confirmed.
Bonus Objective: Prove your worth in combat.
Reward: +50% Experience Point Boost for your first confirmed kill.
Failure Penalty: Significant loss of initial faction standing (also death).
Luke groaned inwardly. “Oh, great. No pressure.”
Before he could dwell on it, another soldier grabbed his arm, physically dragging him into the loose formation. “Stick close,” the man said, his voice rough but not entirely unkind. “You look like a rabbit caught in a wolf den out here. Try not to get yourself killed straight off.”
“Good advice,” Luke muttered, clutching his daggers tightly, his palms sweating despite the dry heat.
The Commander’s voice rang out across the ranks, deep and carrying, somehow cutting through the surrounding din. “Formation! Shields up! Advance on my mark!”
The soldiers around Luke roared in unison, a primal sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath his feet. He stumbled slightly as the line surged forward, his instincts screaming at him to turn, to run, to find any escape from the inevitable collision. But there was nowhere to go. The press of bodies carried him forward like a relentless tide, pushing him toward the wall of green-clad enemy soldiers charging to meet them.
As the two sides crashed together, the sound was deafening. Metal shrieked against metal, men screamed in agony and fury, and the ground trembled with the impact. Luke’s heart thundered against his ribs as he found himself suddenly face to face with an enemy soldier – a towering man wielding a sword that looked more like a sharpened slab of iron than a proper blade.
Luke raised his daggers reflexively, his mind blanking with sheer terror as the man swung. Time seemed to distort, the massive sword descending in what felt like agonizing slow motion. What am I doing here? I don’t belong here. The thought flashed through his mind just before the impact.
CLANG!
The blow was deafening, sending jarring pain shooting up both arms. He was knocked backward, sprawling into the dirt, the coppery taste of blood and grime filling his mouth.
~ Tutorial Tip: Evasion Recommended ~
Blocking heavy attacks with light weapons is generally inadvisable. Consider dodging.
“Thanks for that,” Luke hissed through gritted teeth, scrambling to his feet. He hastily wiped dirt from his face as the soldier advanced, the man’s sword glinting in the harsh sunlight.
“Gonna enjoy guttin’ you, whelp,” the soldier said with a cruel grin, stalking forward.
Luke panicked, fumbling with his daggers as the man swung again, another heavy downward arc. He instinctively raised his daggers to block, his arms still aching fiercely from the first impact. But right at the last moment, recalling the system’s blunt advice, he threw himself sideways. The heavy blade whistled past his shoulder, missing by inches.
“Okay,” Luke muttered, his breath ragged, adrenaline pounding in his ears. “Dodging. Dodging is good.” He swung his daggers wildly, more in hope than skill, trying to land a hit, any hit.
The man just chuckled, easily batting the clumsy attacks aside with his sword, smirking as he raised it for another blow.
~ Quest Update: Combat Basics ~
Objective: Land a hit on an enemy soldier.
Reward: +10 Experience Points.
Hint: Aiming may improve results over random flailing.
Luke growled under his breath at the system’s dry commentary. “Flailing? I’ll show you flailing.” He lunged forward, putting all his weight behind a desperate thrust. The daggers scraped against the man’s heavy armor, leaving only a shallow scratch, drawing no blood.
~ Progress: 1/10 hits landed. Minimal damage dealt. ~
“Are you kidding me?” Luke gasped, narrowly dodging another heavy swing. His luck ran out as his foot caught on a fallen, mud-caked shield half-buried in the churned earth. He stumbled, falling to one knee just as the enemy soldier’s sword descended.
Pain exploded in his chest as the blade pierced clean through leather and flesh. His vision blurred, the world turning grey as blood poured from the wound.
~ Critical Damage Sustained! ~
Status: Deceased.
Respawning…
The world dissolved into blackness. For a moment, there was nothing but the fading echo of his own heartbeat, slowing... stopping.
Then, with a sudden, violent jolt, he was back.
Luke gasped, instinctively clutching his chest as his surroundings snapped back into focus. He was still on the battlefield, still surrounded by the roaring chaos, but his body was whole again. The wound, the pain, gone in an instant.
“Okay,” he muttered, forcing himself shakily to his feet. “That sucked. A lot.”
Another chime sounded, accompanied by a notification that felt distinctly sarcastic:
~ Tutorial Tip: On Mortality ~
Congratulations! You have experienced death. Subsequent deaths may yield diminishing returns on existential dread.
Suggestion: Avoid repeating the experience.
Luke shook his head, his hands trembling as he gripped his daggers. He could still feel the phantom pain of the blade piercing his chest, the chilling finality of it. “This game… this place is brutal,” he muttered, the line between the two blurring rapidly.