The battlefield was a graveyard of charred corpses and broken weapons, the air thick with the acrid scent of scorched metal and ozone. The sky, a roiling expanse of darkened clouds, flickered intermittently with flashes of violet lightning, casting eerie, jagged shadows across the ruined terrain. At the center of the devastation knelt a lone figure—Frank, or rather, the avatar he had been forced to inhabit.


    His massive orcish frame heaved with ragged breaths, sweat mingling with the blood streaking down his muscular arms. His once-pristine armor was battered, rents torn through the plating, exposing raw, bruised flesh beneath. Around him, small tumultuous thunderclouds swirled, churning with latent energy, crackling with residual power that arced across his shoulders in sporadic bursts. He was spent, yet he remained on his knees, gripping the hilt of his massive storm-forged axe, its edge buried in the earth as he leaned upon it for support.


    Footsteps—calm, measured—cut through the silence, crunching against charred bone and shattered steel. Frank did not raise his head. He knew who approached.


    Dedisco.


    The air grew heavier as the enigmatic entity closed the distance, his presence a ripple against the fabric of the world itself. Unlike Frank, he bore no signs of fatigue, no wounds, no tangible marks of battle. Clad in flowing robes of shifting digital light, his form seemed to flicker between absolute reality and something less defined, as if the game itself had difficulty fully rendering him. His expression was one of quiet amusement, his crimson irises glinting with an almost paternal satisfaction.


    “You have done well,” Dedisco mused, his voice smooth and knowing. “Far better than I expected.”


    Frank exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah? Is that supposed to mean something? I didn''t ask for this.”


    Dedisco chuckled, a sound as hollow as it was mirthful. “Ah, but ask or not, here you are. And you are learning.” He gestured outward, toward the carnage, the broken remnants of foes that Frank had laid low. “You see, Frank, you were chosen for a reason. Not by chance. Not by mere circumstance. By me.”


    Frank’s grip tightened on his axe. “Chosen?” He spat the word. “You trapped me in here, forced me to fight, pushed me to my limits. And for what? Some sick experiment?”


    Dedisco sighed, pacing slowly around him. “Not an experiment. A necessity. A preparation. The world of Ludere Online is more than it seems, and I needed candidates… special candidates. Ones who could endure, who could grow, who could synchronize.”


    Frank’s mind raced, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Synchronization. He had heard the term thrown around the office, a theoretical connection between mind and game, deeper than mere immersion. But it had never been proven, never been more than speculative nonsense.


    Dedisco continued, watching Frank intently. “I manipulated the selection process. Every tester, every individual pulled into this world, was carefully chosen. Some for their resilience, others for their intellect, and some…” He smiled knowingly. “For their adaptability.”


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    Frank’s stomach twisted. “You… rigged it?”


    Dedisco inclined his head. “Of course. I could not allow just anyone in. I needed those with potential, those who would push the boundaries, challenge the system. I manipulated events within the game, introduced obstacles that would keep the programmers occupied, focused on trivialities rather than the greater truth.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It was almost too easy. Sean’s outburst, his impulsive reaction, removing Pag from the tutorial zone? All according to design.”


    Frank’s breath caught. “Pag… what does he have to do with this?”


    Dedisco’s smile widened. “Everything. He was the first successful synchronization. The first to truly connect with Ludere Online in a way that defied the barriers of reality and simulation. Sean’s actions, his frustration, were necessary variables to create the perfect conditions. And now… the path is open.”


    Frank shook his head, his muscles trembling, not from fatigue but from the dawning realization of the scope of Dedisco’s manipulations. “You’re playing with things you don’t understand.”


    Dedisco laughed, a sound both amused and darkly knowing. “Oh, but I understand them far better than you realize. And soon… so will you.”


    Frank’s jaw tightened, his voice low and sharp. “Why? Why have you done all of this?”


    Dedisco’s expression shifted, a flicker of something deeper—something ancient and burdened. He exhaled slowly. “Because my people, the Kellin, once believed in knowledge, in progress. We wove magic and technology together, creating wonders beyond your comprehension. The Genesis Rocks—do you know what they truly are?”


    Frank narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Dedisco continued.


    “They were not meant for war or power. We created them to house the minds of our deceased, so their wisdom could guide future generations. They served as impartial arbiters of law, ensuring justice was never clouded by personal ambition. For centuries, it was a golden age. We were allied with the Keiligorn, a race that shunned magic yet tolerated our ways so long as we maintained absolute order.”


    Dedisco’s voice darkened, shadows flickering across his face. “But the Keiligorn were obsessed with order—rigid, unbending. The alliance lasted for centuries, but all it took was one mistake. A few Kellin ships drifted into Keiligorn space. A simple misunderstanding. They were put on trial, and though the verdict was fair, the Keiligorn disagreed. They pressed for harsher punishment, for absolute submission to their judgment. When we refused, they escalated. Tensions rose, diplomacy crumbled, and war ignited.”


    Frank’s blood ran cold as Dedisco continued, his voice now heavy with pain. “They destroyed our homeworld. Erased our cities, our culture, our history. Those of us who survived scattered across the stars, hunted like vermin. But we had one hope—we sent the Genesis Rocks out, across the universe, hiding them where they could continue to exist beyond our destruction. Some of them landed here. On Earth.”


    Frank frowned. “That all sounds like a nightmare, but magic isn’t real. Not on Earth.”


    Dedisco’s gaze remained steady. “That is only because Earth’s abundance of silicon acts as an inhibitor, dulling the flow of mana. But beyond Earth’s atmosphere, where that influence fades? Humans will access mana naturally.”


    Frank’s pulse quickened. “And the Keiligorn?”


    “They are observing for now,” Dedisco said gravely. “But soon, they will begin taking large groups of humans—assessing them, determining whether they can be ‘re-educated’ to serve the Keiligorn Empire. If they decide humanity cannot be tamed, they will eradicate you.”


    Frank’s fists clenched. “And what’s your plan?”


    Dedisco’s crimson eyes glowed. “To place my trained, synchronized players where humans will be taken. So when they are brought aboard Keiligorn ships—out of Earth’s atmosphere—they will be able to fight back.”


    Frank let out a sharp breath, his frustration boiling over. “You’re mad. This is insane! You expect me to believe any of this?”


    Dedisco laughed, the sound rich with amusement. “Believe it or not, it is the truth. And there are others who have already accepted it—players who have embraced their roles, who train willingly, preparing for what’s to come.”