Just what the hell is happening?!
Asher couldn't hold back his shock.
Sure, animated armor talking in a game wasn't impossible—it was expected, even. But in this context? With no tutorial, no UI guidance, and no explanation, it was terrifying.
And these things kept calling him "King."
"King... your orders..."
The voice echoed from the kneeling armors.
"Agh! Just shut up for now!"
At his command, they immediately fell silent. The room returned to its eerie, oppressive stillness.
Asher blinked. That actually worked?
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
Breathe, Asher. Breathe.
Once he steadied his nerves, he mentally retraced everything—from logging in, to the missing character customization, the grayed-out logout and help buttons, and finally… the mysterious black card.
Sure, the world was made by AI, but humans still monitored it. Bugs like these weren't supposed to exist.
Even the VR hardware had a failsafe: a force-quit function triggered by abnormal vitals or prolonged playtime. So all Asher needed to do was wait. Eventually, he'd be forcibly logged out.
Alright, that's one problem… sort of solved.
The bigger issue was the in-game bug—or maybe feature: no avatar setup, no starter gear, and one strange card that let him command sentient armors.
The card… it said it was the fifth of its kind. So does that mean… I'm not the only one in this situation?
That thought gave him pause.
Suddenly remembering the game's bulletin board system—normally locked in the main menu—he tried accessing it. To his surprise, it opened.
Players were chatting about raid strategies, famous guilds, and crafting tips. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Asher typed a message.
No one responded.
Huh...?
He tried again. Still nothing.
So I'm invisible to them… but at least no one else is stuck like me. That's… a relief, I guess.
He closed the board and turned back to the armors. They hadn't moved an inch—still kneeling, still silent.
Alright... might as well roll with it.
"I permit one of you to speak."
The armors exchanged glances. Then one stepped forward and knelt again before him.
This one stood out—more elaborate than the rest, with etched designs, a feathered helm, a regal cape. It looked less like a soldier and more like a knight commander.
"King... your orders..."
"First, tell me—where are we, and what are you?"
The armored knight bowed deeper.
"We are within the great Alexandria Castle, in the Khavlac Region. We are the Living Armor—a race forged to serve the Luminary King under the will of the great god Arkein."
Asher narrowed his eyes.
He'd been an alpha and beta tester, but most of the lore was locked. He only knew the basics: Arkein was the AI-god that created the world, and all good and evil originated from it.
But Black Crown cards? I've never seen anything like them. Maybe they were added post-release?
He brushed the thought aside.
"Then… what exactly am I supposed to do?"
The knight didn't hesitate.
"Conquest."
Exactly what Asher feared. He was supposed to conquer the world. Or at least… this region.
Conquer the world? I can't even walk out the damn door.
He sighed, then pointed.
"You. Your name's Gavin now."
The knight stiffened.
"Ah… Ahh… I thank you… King…"
Asher couldn't tell whether Gavin was grateful or offended by the name. He chose not to dwell on it.
"Try stepping outside."
Gavin rose and approached the massive gate. It opened without resistance.
Wait—he can leave, but I couldn't?
Beyond the threshold was a vast winter night. Snow drifted slowly from a dark sky, falling over a barren white field.
Almost without thinking, Asher stepped forward—just enough to reach out.
His hand passed the boundary.
Huh?
He could move beyond the room now.
Were the bugs fixed? He opened the menu.
Help: still grayed out.
Logout: still disabled.
So… what changed?
He didn't know. He stopped trying to figure it out. For now, he simply stood there and let the cold air wash over him.
Two hours later, Asher sat once more on the throne.
"So you wish to conquer the world. Why? For what reason?"
All the armors—and even the statues—replied in perfect unison, their voices booming through the hall:
"For freedom."
Gavin stepped forward and knelt.
"May I… explain, my King?"
Asher nodded.
From what Gavin told him, Asher pieced together the truth:
There were two crowns, or two major races in this world: black and white. Each had its own nature. Each complemented the other.
Then came the prophet.
A figure from the white faction declared the black to be evil. When a young black was seen carrying the body of a white soldier, the whites assumed he was the killer.
The prophet confirmed their fear.
"The black killed him."
That lie sparked panic. White forces began raiding black settlements, murdering indiscriminately—even children and the unborn.
The blacks retaliated. They won.
But the whites retaliated again. Not with strength—through deceit. They sealed the most powerful black warriors into artifacts—cards—and reclaimed not just their territory, but more, using the very powers they had stolen.
Now, the black were demonized. Labeled monsters.
And the whites? They called themselves humans.
Asher's eyes widened.
Wait… that card was a hero's sealed soul? Then… I used it?!
A chill ran down his spine.
Trying to shake it off, he asked, "So… what do I do now?"
Gavin knelt lower.
"Please, King… lead us."
The words hit harder than expected.
He wasn't just trapped.
He was chosen.
Chosen to lead a fallen people—demons, they called them—back to power.
The idea of leading a forgotten nation to victory stirred something in him.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Alright. I'll lead you. Just don't fall behind."
"YES!!!"
The armors and statues roared in unison, voices filled with hope and purpose.
And at the center of it all, Asher sat on the throne—smiling, calm, and just a little bit smug.
They believed they'd found their savior.
But Asher?
He just wanted to look cool.