Chapter 2: Azroth the world eater

Ivan approached his apartment door, anticipation coursing through his veins. As he swung it open, the deliverymen he had been expecting entered, bearing the weight of his newly ordered Oasis pod.

Carefully, they set it down in a designated corner of the room. Ivan's attention then shifted to a stack of documents handed to him, each page seemingly referencing the specter of death. He perused them briefly before resigning himself to signing each one, acknowledging the risks involved.

After bidding farewell to the deliverymen, Ivan found himself standing before the gleaming pod, its presence a tangible reminder of the weighty decision he had made. He stared at it, his mind teetering on the precipice of uncertainty, contemplating the unknown consequences.

Shaking his head as if to dispel his wavering thoughts, Ivan donned his jacket and stepped out, seeking solace in the open air. He walked for some time, lost in the depths of his contemplation, until he reached the familiar façade of his favorite bar. Determinedly, he maneuvered through the bustling crowd, making his way to a secluded corner tucked away from prying eyes and clamor.

This spot held a special significance for Ivan—it was his sanctuary. Seating himself at a small table, he reached into his jacket and produced a bottle of liquor. He uncapped it, swiftly consuming its contents, the sharp burn serving as a temporary distraction. Exhaling deeply, he wiped his mouth, the gesture carrying a mix of relief and contemplation.

In the comforting cacophony of the bar, Ivan found solace, his thoughts blending with the ambient noise. Here, amidst the clinking glasses, murmurs, and laughter, he sought refuge, drowning the weight of his decisions in the depths of his favored intoxication.

A deafening boom reverberated through the bar, causing the entire establishment to quake in response. This was not the usual ambient noise that Ivan sought.

In a flurry of panic, the patrons fled from the bar, compelled to investigate the source of the explosion. As they poured out onto the streets, their collective gaze fell upon a sight that left them trembling in fear.

A rip in the fabric of space crackled with ominous purple sparks. Strange goblins, larger than average humans, roamed near the rift, their bodies smeared with blood—likely from the fallen humans who lay scattered around them.

The onlookers scarcely had a moment to process the horrific scene before terror consumed them. Their collective screams pierced the night as they scattered in a desperate attempt to secure their survival.

Amidst the chaos, Ivan stood transfixed, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and shock. For a moment, he forgot to prioritize his own safety. It was only when he heard the desperate cries of a young woman cornered by the goblins that he snapped back to reality.

"We have to save her!" Ivan exclaimed, his voice filled with determination.

However, the "we" he referred to did not include himself. In an instant, he turned on his heels and sprinted away, his legs propelling him as fast as they could manage.

The goblins, fueled by their sinister agility, swiftly closed the distance. One of them struck Ivan on the head with a blunt weapon, sending him sprawling to the ground. His vision blurred as he lay disoriented on the floor.

As the goblin closed in for a final blow, a sudden intervention disrupted its grim intentions. An arrow pierced through its chest, followed by a swift sword strike severing its head from its body.

The wielder of the sword turned out to be none other than Vance, an old friend of Ivan's but also an Awakened who served under Leonard. Vance's presence was accompanied by a sense of unease and foreboding, for he had a reputation for being trouble.

"Well, well, Ivan. Still as useless as ever, I see. Consider yourself lucky that I'm obligated by law to rescue you," Vance sneered, his expression filled with disdain. With effortless grace, he swiftly dispatched the remaining goblins, ensuring the woman's safety.

Ivan gingerly rose to his feet, his head throbbing from the blow he had endured. He made his way home, a renewed hatred for his own existence simmering within him. It was this deep-seated feeling of profound uselessness that he believed would be the catalyst he needed—a driving force to push him forward.

Upon entering his room, Ivan meticulously locked the door, sealing himself off from the outside world. His gaze fell upon the gleaming Oasis pod, a palpable sense of determination etched in his eyes. With resolute purpose, he powered on the pod, causing the glass cover to slide open.

Steeling himself, Ivan donned the headset, positioning himself within the confines of the pod. As the pod sealed shut, the lights on the headset flickered to life, casting an otherworldly glow.

[Game initializing.]

[INITIALIZATION COMPLETE.]

[Loading player data...]

[Load complete.]

[Welcome to New Oasis.]

[Error...]

[Unforeseen variable.]

[Abnormal player detected.]

[Game developer detected.]

[GAME DEVELOPER PRIVILEGE ACTIVATED.]

[Player will be taken directly to Floor 100.]

Ivan's eyes gradually adjusted to the surrounding darkness, revealing a cascade of blue notifications that incessantly appeared before him.

[Player has reached the 100th floor.]

Slowly, his surroundings materialized, unveiling a towering door that extended beyond his line of sight. A sense of mystery and trepidation enveloped Ivan as he stood before it, while darkness loomed ominously behind him. The door stood slightly ajar, beckoning him forward.

Warily, Ivan approached the door, his steps cautious and measured. With a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, he ventured through one of the narrow cracks.

The moment Ivan crossed the threshold, an overwhelming pressure pressed upon him, rendering him breathless. His very essence and existence seemed to crumble under the weight of an incomprehensible power.

[Azroth, the World Eater, is present.]

[BOSS BATTLE HAS BEGUN.]

Within the oppressive darkness, Ivan could discern nothing but the piercing eyes of an immense creature. He felt his life force being mercilessly torn asunder, experiencing a painful demise.

[Player has died from Azroth's presence.]

[Azroth remains undefeated.]

[Player will respawn.]

[Two lives remain.]

Ivan's form materialized once again, only to be consumed by the same tormenting agony, his very existence on the brink of annihilation. The realization struck him with a sense of dread—he had already expended one of his precious lives, and true death loomed closer than ever before.

Drawing upon his familiarity with the game, Ivan swiftly retrieved his sword from his inventory, determination surging through his veins. Despite lacking knowledge of Azroth's weaknesses or any recollection of adding the creature to the game, Ivan knew that survival hinged upon his ability to defeat this formidable foe.

With every step closer to the creature, Ivan's essence felt increasingly crushed and disintegrated.

[Player has died from Azroth's presence.]

[Azroth remains undefeated.]

[Player will respawn.]

[One life remains.]

As Ivan materialized once more, a grim realization dawned upon him—this time, his demise would be permanent. Attempting to escape, he discovered that the door behind him had sealed shut, leaving him trapped within this nightmarish encounter. Resigned to his fate, Ivan made a solemn decision—he would not meet his end without putting up a fight.

Gripping his sword tightly, Ivan charged forward, his battle cry piercing the air. The closer he approached Azroth, the more his movements were impeded, his body wracked with pain as blood trickled from his eyes and head.

Yet, undeterred, Ivan pressed on, his relentless determination catching the attention of Azroth, who regarded him with curiosity. However, this also spelled Ivan's doom.

[Player has died from Azroth's gaze.]

[Azroth remains undefeated.]

[No lives remain.]

[Player is dead.]