The air in the room smelled of stale energy drinks, overheated silicon, and the sour desperation of men who had nowhere else to go.
"Bro, wake up! The server for 'Twilight of the Gods' goes live at nine. If you keep sleeping, you'll miss the launch time!"
The voice was a jagged edge cutting through the fog of Lin's consciousness. It was loud, familiar, and impossible.
Launch time? Twilight of the Gods?
Lin snapped his eyes open. The vertigo hit him instantly, a nauseating lurch as if his soul were being shoved violently back into a container that was two sizes too small. He wasn't lying on the cold, blood-soaked obsidian of the God's Ruins. He wasn't staring up at the sneering face of Wu Xiaodao, the traitor who had driven a dagger into his heart moments after they had cleared the Tomb of Ares.
He was slumped in a faux-leather gaming chair that was peeling at the seams.
"This is... the Dream Chasing Club?"
Lin looked around. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows over rows of identical gaming pods. It was a factory of escapism, a high-tech sweatshop in the Neo-Pacific District where young men sold their hours for digital gold.
"Wait a minute," Lin whispered, his voice raspy. He touched his chest. No wound. No blood. "Wasn't I schemed to death? The betrayal... the Arlette Invasion..."
"What are you mumbling about?"
Lin ignored the question. He scrambled for his phone, his fingers trembling with a palsy that wasn't physical, but existential. The screen lit up, the harsh blue light illuminating the date.
May 20, 2032.
The air left Lin's lungs in a sharp hiss.
"I've been reborn," he murmured, the realization settling over him like a heavy cloak. "I have returned to the starting line. Ten years. I have traveled back ten years, to the very moment the age of gods began."
"Hey, are you okay?"
A large hand landed on Lin's shoulder. Lin looked up into the concerned, bearded face of Kratos Macfarlane In his previous life, Macfarlane had been a Shield Warrior of legendary renown, a man who died holding the gates against a tide of abyssal demons. Now, he was just a worried friend in a grease-stained t-shirt.
"Bro, don't worry. We brothers will find a way to help you raise the money," Macfarlane said, his voice dropping an octave, softening with empathy. "Your sister... she will definitely be okay."
Mei.
The name struck Lin with the force of a physical blow. The memories of his past life—or rather, the future that had not yet happened—flooded his mind, washing away the confusion.
In the original timeline, his sister had been struck by a car. A hit-and-run. The impact caused a cerebral hemorrhage, a ticking time bomb in her brain. The surgery required to save her cost 300,000 credits.
He remembered the desperation. It was a flavor he had tasted every day for ten years. He remembered kneeling on the sterilized white tiles of the hospital, begging the doctors. He and Macfarlane had liquidated everything, scraping together 260,000 from loans and grinding gold.
They were short by 40,000.
For the want of forty thousand credits, the hospital had refused to operate. He remembered watching the life fade from Mei's eyes, her small hand going cold in his. That death had been the catalyst for his descent into madness, driving him to become a merciless killer in the game, a lone wolf who trusted no one—until he trusted the wrong person and died for it.
Lin clenched his fists. The nails dug into his palms, the pain sharp and grounding.
"Sister," he murmured, a vow forming in the crucible of his soul. "The Fates may have cut your thread once, but I hold the shears now. This time, I will burn the world down before I let you die."
He looked up at Macfarlane. The despair that had defined his previous existence evaporated, replaced by the cold, hard steel of determination.
"Kratos," Lin said, using the nickname his friend would one day earn in blood. "Let's enter the game. Our destiny will be written by us."
Macfarlane blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in Lin's demeanor. The fragile, panicked boy was gone; in his place sat someone with eyes as old as history. "That's the spirit, Bro. Go for it."
Lin stood up and walked toward the game pod. It was a sleek, coffin-like device, chrome and white plastic.
Twilight of the Gods.
To the public, it was marketed as a "cross-era virtual reality experience," a joint project by over a hundred nations to create a second economy. A playground.
But Lin knew the truth. He had seen the sky crack open five years from now. He knew that this was not a game created by humans. It was a training simulation constructed by the Galaxy Lord God, harnessing the dormant ley lines of Earth's ancient divinities.
It was a preparation for the Great Cataclysm. The Arlette Star System was coming. Their armada would darken the sun, and their players would invade reality.
"In my previous life, I was a pawn," Lin thought as the pod lid hissed shut, sealing him in darkness. "I didn't awaken my true talent until the moment of my death. I was mediocre. But knowledge is the ultimate leverage."
The neural link engaged. Consciousness expanded.
He was floating in a void of starlight. The prompt appeared: [Play Promotional Video?]
It was notorious. An eight-hour cinematic epic detailing the lore of the universe, the war between the Aesir and the Vanir, the cultivation of the Golden Immortals, and the fall of Olympus. It could not be fast-forwarded. It could only be skipped or watched in its entirety.
In his previous life, 99.9% of players skipped it. Every second wasted was a second falling behind in the race for levels and resources. To watch a movie for eight hours on launch day was lunacy.
But Lin sat down in the void. He crossed his legs in the lotus position and watched.
He watched the World Tree, Yggdrasil, burn. He watched the Monkey King swing his staff against the pillars of heaven. He analyzed the spell forms of the Merlin archetype and the sword strokes of the Eastern Sword Saints. He wasn't just watching; he was studying.
He waited.
One hour. Three hours. Six hours.
Outside, millions of players were already killing slimes, leveling up, forming guilds. Lin remained still. He knew that the greatest treasures required the greatest sacrifices of patience. The Greeks called it Kairos—the opportune moment.
Finally, the eight-hour mark passed. The screen faded to white.
"Ding."
The system notification rang out, crisp and melodious, like a temple bell.
"Congratulations. You are the first player in the global server to finish watching the 'Twilight of the Gods' promotional video."
"Reward: God-level Talent Awakening Stone x1."
Lin exhaled. As expected.
The white light coalesced into the Character Creation Hall. It was a grand temple, a fusion of a Gothic cathedral and a Daoist shrine.
"Please select your Class," the system voice intoned.
"Archer," Lin said without hesitation. "Nickname: Snow Emperor."
It was the name he had used in his past life. A homage to the coldness he had nurtured in his heart.
"Ding. Class creation successful. Nickname: Snow Emperor. Allocation: Novice Village 10086."
A flash of light, and Lin materialized in the Novice Village. It was a rustic hamlet, bustling with the chaotic energy of thousands of players. The village could hold ten thousand, and the servers were already straining under the weight of a hundred million logins globally.
Lin ignored the crowd. He walked to a secluded alleyway behind the blacksmith's shop, hidden by a stack of hay bales. He opened his inventory.
There it was. The God-level Talent Awakening Stone. It pulsed with a golden light, swirling with runes.
"Awaken," Lin commanded.
The stone shattered. A beam of golden light shot into his chest, illuminating the alleyway.
"Ding. Anomaly detected. Host soul resonance exceeds mortal parameters."
"Ding. The God-level Awakening Stone is insufficient to contain your potential. Breaking limits..."
"Ding. You have awakened the Talent: Hand of Divine Punishment."
"Grade: Transcendent God-level."
Lin's eyes widened. Transcendent? That tier didn't exist in the archives. In his previous life, the highest known tier was 'God-level,' possessed by the likes of the great warlords who dominated entire continents.
He hurriedly pulled up the details.
Talent: Hand of Divine Punishment (Transcendent God-level - 1 Star)
• Passive Effect 1: Judgment. Each normal attack deals True Damage equal to 1% of your Maximum Health. (Ignores Armor, Magic Resistance, and Shields).
• Passive Effect 2: Gluttony of the Void. Each normal attack launched permanently increases your Maximum Health by 1 point.
• Proficiency: 0 / 1000 to reach 2 Stars.
• Restriction: Health stacking only triggers on living targets.
Lin stared at the text. The breath caught in his throat.
"Infinite... scaling?"
In the world of MMORPGs, Archers were glass cannons—high damage, zero survivability. But this? This talent turned that logic on its head. The more he attacked, the tankier he became. And the tankier he became, the harder he hit.
True Damage based on Max HP. If he had 100,000 HP, he would deal 1,000 True Damage per arrow. If he had a billion HP...
He was not just an Archer. He was a walking apocalypse.
He opened his attribute panel, his hands shaking slightly with the thrill of power.
• Nickname: Snow Emperor
• Level: 1
• HP: 100 / 100
• Attack: 9
• Attack Speed: 0.63
• Talent: Hand of Divine Punishment
"I have lost ten years of time," Lin whispered, closing the panel. "But I have gained eternity."
He stepped out of the alleyway. The village entrance was crowded with players hunting the local wildlife.
Red-Eyed Rabbit (Common) - Level 1
HP: 90
It was a pathetic creature, a ball of white fluff with demonic eyes. In his past life, Lin would have seen it as a chore. Now, he saw it as a stepping stone to godhood.
He raised his Novice Longbow. The wood was rough against his palm. He drew the string back. The tension felt good. It felt right.
Swoosh.
The wooden arrow flew, a clumsy arc compared to the skills he once possessed, but it found its mark.
-8 (Physical Damage)
-1 (True Damage)
"Ding. Passive Triggered. Max HP +1."
A warmth spread through Lin's body. It was subtle, like a drop of water falling into a vast ocean, but it was there. His HP was now 101.
He didn't stop. He nocked another arrow.
The attack speed was sluggish—1.5 seconds per shot. In his previous life, his agility allowed for thirteen arrows a second, a veritable rain of death. But that didn't matter. Rome was not built in a day, and neither was a God.
He fired again. And again.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
With every arrow that left his string, Lin felt the timeline shifting. He was rewriting the code of the universe, one hit point at a time. The rabbit shrieked and dissolved into data particles.
"Ding. You have killed a Red-Eyed Rabbit. Experience +1."
Lin lowered the bow, a cold smile playing on his lips. He looked up at the virtual sky, where the twin suns of the game world were beginning to set.
"Wait for me, Mei," he said to the wind. "Wait for me, Arlette System. Wait for me, Wu Xiaodao."
"The hunt has just begun."