Leon Valeris was not built for greatness.
He was built for "decent."
Decent grades.Decent reflexes.Decent strategy.
The kind of player who understood the rules—but never mastered them.
Which was unfortunate.
Because tonight, he was about to become a god.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
The banner across the login screen shimmered in gold:
CIVILIZATION ASCENSION — Global Competitive Season
Millions of players selected.Each assigned a territory.Each granted divine authority.Guide your civilization.Outplay the others.Win.
Leon flexed his fingers and leaned closer to the screen.
"This time," he muttered, "I'm actually going to think things through."
The world map unfolded before him in a rotating holographic sphere.
Mountain chains.
Dense forests.
Rivers.
Coastal plains.
Volcanic regions.
Each territory displayed detailed stats:
Resource AbundanceClimate StabilityMonster DensityFaith Yield PotentialStrategic Rating
He scanned through them carefully.
High resource plains.Safe forests.Balanced river valleys.
He hovered over one of the safer choices.
Good soil.Low monster activity.Stable seasons.
That would be the smart choice.
He moved the cursor away.
His eyes drifted toward something more dramatic.
A highland valley ringed by jagged cliffs, cut by a narrow river. The lighting engine made the sunset reflect beautifully over the terrain.
It looked incredible.
He checked the stats.
Low starting resources.High monster density.Unstable seasonal cycles.Faith growth unpredictable.
A small red warning icon blinked.
Recommended for advanced players only.
Leon leaned back in his chair.
"…How advanced are we talking?"
He stared at the cliffs again.
It looked epic.
Strategically questionable.
But epic.
He clicked it.
Territory Selected.Divine Authority Granted.
"Okay," he exhaled. "We adapt."
The map zoomed in.
A primitive tribe appeared near the river.
Wooden huts.
Sparse farmland.
Basic tools.
Small population.
Population: 113Food Reserve: LowFaith Output: 9Military Strength: Minimal
Leon blinked.
"Why is faith nine? Why not ten? Ten sounds stable."
He opened the construction menu.
Shrine.Granary.Barracks.Irrigation.Housing.
Faith drove everything.
Faith generated authority.
Authority strengthened commands.
So obviously—
Shrine first.
He built it.
Wood resources dropped sharply.
Food consumption warning appeared.
He frowned.
"Wait. Why did wood drop so much?"
Because buildings require materials.
He opened the agriculture tab.
Farms required laborers.
Laborers required food.
Food required farms.
He stared at the loop for a long second.
"…That's annoying."
A red notification flashed.
Food Deficit Expected in 2 Cycles.
"Already? I just started."
He reassigned workers from gathering to farming.
Faith generation slowed.
He hesitated.
Maybe that was wrong.
Maybe shrine first wasn't optimal.
Global chat lit up.
Sun_Overlord: Secured triple irrigation. Snowballing already.AstraPrime: Faith 150 before turn five. Easy.VoidArchitect: If you're not optimizing terrain bonuses, just uninstall.
Leon rolled his eyes.
"Relax, spreadsheet gods."
He checked his numbers.
Faith: 11Food: DecliningMorale: Unstable
Eleven wasn't bad.
It just… wasn't impressive.
He decided to issue a divine sign.
The interface allowed short abstract messages.
He typed:
Prosperity is near.
Golden light descended upon the tribe.
He waited for improved production.
Instead—
Festival Initiated.
Food consumption increased.Morale temporarily boosted.
Leon stared at the screen.
"…Why are they celebrating? I meant 'work harder.'"
He tried correcting it.
But issuing another sign cost faith.
Which he barely had.
He opened the military tab.
Monsters were marked near the forest border.
He trained two militia units.
Wood dropped again.
Food dropped again.
Everything dropped.
"Okay," he muttered, leaning forward. "Now we stabilize."
Moments later—
Monster Activity Detected.
Wolf-like creatures emerged from the trees.
His militia moved to intercept.
Leon watched the combat feed intensely.
One soldier hesitated.
The other charged recklessly.
The wolves flanked them.
Health bars plummeted.
One militia fell immediately.
Faith decreased.
Morale decreased.
The second tried to retreat and tripped over uneven terrain.
"Are you serious?" Leon whispered.
Another unit lost.
Faith: 8.
It physically hurt.
He wasn't clueless.
He understood what he did wrong.
Shrine first was greedy.
Militia without terrain control was reckless.
Sign phrasing was ambiguous.
He just…
He didn't anticipate it fast enough.
He reacted.
Slowly.
And every hesitation compounded.
Leaderboard updated.
Sun_Overlord — Faith 310AstraPrime — Military 402LeonValeris — Faith 8
"…That's embarrassing."
He leaned back.
He wasn't the worst.
Probably.
But he wasn't good either.
He opened terrain analysis again.
Maybe he could shift labor.
Maybe—
The screen flickered.
Leon frowned.
"Internet?"
The golden borders of his interface pulsed strangely.
New text appeared.
Not part of the standard UI.
Divine Synchronization Initiating…
"I didn't press anything."
The map distorted.
The valley expanded unnaturally.
Text glitched.
Authority Conflict Detected.Perspective Reassignment in Progress.
"Reassignment to what?"
The camera zoomed violently downward.
Through clouds.
Through cliffs.
Toward the tiny tribe.
Leon tried to remove his headset.
His arms wouldn't respond.
The light intensified.
His chair disappeared beneath him.
The room dissolved.
There was no screen anymore.
Only brightness.
Then falling.
He tried to scream.
Sound didn't come out.
The world shattered into white.
—
Cold.
That was the first sensation.
Not digital cold.
Real cold.
Air touching skin.
Pressure.
Tightness.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe properly.
Then pain.
Then instinct.
He inhaled sharply—
And cried.
The sound shocked him.
High-pitched.
Weak.
Helpless.
Hands lifted him.
Rough hands.
Warm hands.
Real hands.
Voices echoed around him.
"It's a boy."
"Strong lungs."
"The god has blessed us."
Leon forced his eyes open.
The world was blurry.
Firelight flickered above him.
Wooden beams.
Smoke drifting along the ceiling.
Animal pelts.
Mud walls.
No interface.
No menus.
No stats.
No minimap.
His body felt wrong.
Small.
Weightless.
Uncoordinated.
He tried to move his fingers.
They twitched weakly.
A woman leaned over him.
Her face exhausted but radiant.
She smiled.
"Welcome, little one."
Leon's mind reeled.
The valley.
The unstable land.
The monster density.
The shrine.
The festival.
The failed militia.
His territory.
His civilization.
Understanding crept in slowly.
He wasn't watching it anymore.
He wasn't issuing commands.
He wasn't above it.
He was inside it.
Somewhere outside the hut, drums echoed in the distance.
Rhythmic.
Primitive.
Alive.
The river he had chosen flowed nearby.
The cliffs he thought looked cool stood around this valley.
The unstable seasons.
The low resources.
The high monster density.
He had clicked it casually.
And now—
He had been born into it.
A mortal newborn in his own struggling tribe.
No authority.
No divine commands.
No ability to reload.
The woman cradled him gently.
Outside, someone said reverently,
"Our god watches over us."
Leon's tiny body trembled.
God.
Yes.
There was still a god.
Just not him.
His chest tightened.
If he had struggled from above—
How would he survive from below?
No stats.
No foresight.
No optimization overlays.
Only hunger.
Cold.
Monsters.
People.
Real people.
His crying slowly faded into exhausted breaths.
The hut smelled of smoke and earth.
Fire crackled softly.
The world felt heavy.
Permanent.
He had entered the game intending to become a god.
Instead—
He had been reborn as a mortal.
And this time, there would be no tutorial.
Leon Valeris had made a mistake.
And now he would have to learn everything—
From the beginning.