The water crashed ferociously against the walls of the observatory, each impact sending shudders through the reinforced structure. Yet, miraculously, the walls held firm against the onslaught. Inside the largest room housing the colossal telescope, everyone huddled together, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Whispered prayers mingled with muffled sobs, creating a haunting chorus that underscored the chaos outside.
Maverick sat on the cold floor, cradling Emily in his lap. Her face buried against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. He held her tightly, one hand gently stroking her hair in a futile attempt to offer comfort. His own heart pounded in his chest, not just from fear but also from a gnawing sense of realization.
There had to be a reason this was happening. Catastrophes of this magnitude did not just occur without warning. This level of destruction belonged in stories, in... games.
Games.
The word echoed in his mind like a struck bell, reverberating through his thoughts. Suddenly, fragments of recent events began to align in his head like pieces of a puzzle snapping into place. His eyes widened as a chilling possibility surfaced.
He fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling. He knew the signal was down—networks had collapsed along with the city infrastructure—but that wasn't what he needed. Activating the screen, he stared at the time display: 9:01 AM.
His breath caught. The full release of The Veil Online had been scheduled for exactly 8:30 AM. The same moment when the world began to unravel.
"No way," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the distant roar of the storm.
Emily shifted in his arms, looking up with red-rimmed eyes. "Maverick, what's happening?" she asked, her voice quavering.
He glanced down at her, a mix of fear and disbelief etched on his face. "I think... I think this is connected to the game."
She blinked, confusion knitting her brow. "The game? What do you mean?"
"Think about it," he said urgently. "The timing, the seismic events, everything. The Veil Online's full release was supposed to be revolutionary, but what if they meant it literally?"
Her eyes searched his, realization dawning slowly. "Are you saying the game's... coming to life?"
"Or our world is becoming the game," he replied. His mind raced back to the promotional material—the promises of an experience beyond virtual reality, of blurring the lines between the game and real life. At the time, he thought it was just marketing hype.
"I remember the tagline," Emily murmured. "'Begin your journey, and become a legend of Tierra.'"
He nodded. "What if Prometheus Games found a way to merge the game's universe with ours?"
She sat up slightly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "But that's impossible... isn't it?"
"Under normal circumstances, yes. But with the old mans story about Tenroo Island, the barrier, and the mana it was supposedly containing..." He trailed off, the implications overwhelming.
Feeling unsure Maverick sat back against the stone wall, unsure of what to do next. Eventually the sound of crashing water faded, and the everything seemed to calm, the earth no longer shaking with Poseidons wrath.
Feeling brave Maverick stood from his seat, moving Emily upwards ever so carefully. He climbed high into a maintenance hatch, where a window was located. Maverick hoped it would let him see outside and find out what was happening now. But to his shock, the water had dissipated like it never left the confines of the ocean, but the rest of their small city was left in an apocalyptic state. Very little remained whole, and the few standing structures had seen much better days.
Eventually after some long negotiations and bringing up other to the window he opened the observatories doors and step outside to see the ruins. The biggest shock of his life came only moments after the doors were opened. The same blue screens seen in TVO now appeared before his eyes, as the world seemingly sat still frozen in time.
**System Notice**
Congratulations on surviving the first phase, your worlds integration. With mana now saturating planet Earth, The Veil has begun to weaken and your world is on track to become an enlightened race. Would you like to enter character creation?
**Yes/No**
10… 9… 8…
Maverick stared at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. The words "Character Creation?" flickered before his eyes, glowing with an otherworldly light that seemed to reach out and beckon him forward. What did it mean in this context? He knew the concept well enough—in games, it was where you molded your avatar, crafted your digital identity. But for him, Maverick, to step into something like that now? Could he actually change himself as one would in a game?
A mix of curiosity and apprehension churned within him. His fingers hovered hesitantly, but there was no physical button to press. Instead, an intuitive understanding washed over him—it required a mental command. Taking a deep breath, he mentally selected Yes, hoping he hadn't just made a grave mistake.
His vision went dark, all sensations evaporating from his body until he mentally faded into the darkness. When Maverick regained awareness, he was weightless, adrift in an infinite expanse. A floating sensation enveloped him, like drifting on a tranquil sea beneath a starless sky. Maverick experienced a level of freedom he'd only glimpsed once before—when skydiving with his mom, the exhilarating rush as they plunged through the clouds. But this... this was beyond anything he'd ever known. There was no gravity here, no up or down, just endless possibility.
A laugh bubbled up inside him, though he had no mouth to voice it. He willed himself forward, and his essence soared through the darkness, leaving trails of shimmering light in his wake. He twisted and spiraled, experimenting with this newfound ability to move without limbs, to exist without a body. The sheer joy of it was intoxicating, a euphoria that eclipsed any thrill he'd ever felt.
But as the initial wonder began to wane, a disquieting thought crept in. Something was wrong. He tried to stop, to slow his momentum, but found he couldn't control his speed. He spiraled out of control into the nothingness of the abyss stretching endlessly below. A cold tendril of fear coiled around him.
"What's happening?" he thought, though there was no echo in this void to answer him.
Desperately, he sought to will himself toward the grassy earth that now materialized beneath him, a lush landscape bathed in golden light. But no matter how intensely he focused, he couldn't descend. He was trapped, suspended above a world he could see but not touch.
Panic tightened its grip further. He tried to move imaginary arms, to reach out and grab hold of something—anything—but there were no arms to move. No hands to grasp with. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: he was disembodied, a consciousness without form.
"Am I... dead?" The thought sent a spike of terror through him.
His surroundings began to shift. The serene landscape below twisted and warped, shadows stretching across the fields. The sky darkened, swirling with ominous clouds that crackled with silent lightning. The beauty of the world was melting away, replaced by a reflection of his mounting dread.
Then, in the periphery of his awareness, he noticed a figure standing on a granite pedestal amid the chaos. Straining to focus, he willed himself closer, and this time it worked. The image of the figure upon the pedestal sharpened until recognition slammed into him.
It was him. His own body stood there, eyes closed, face serene despite the turmoil unfolding around. He saw every detail—the familiar curve of his jaw, the tousled hair that never seemed to stay in place, the small scar on his left eyebrow from one of Emilys pranks.
"That's me... but I'm here," he thought, his mind reeling. "How can I be there and here at the same time?"
A profound loneliness engulfed him. He was a ghost, a spectator unable to interact with the world or even with himself. The distance between his consciousness and his body felt insurmountable, a chasm that threatened to swallow him whole.
Desperation took hold. He fought against the invisible restraints, pushing with every ounce of willpower he possessed. "Let me go back!" he screamed into the void, though no sound emerged.
As if responding to his plea, the shadows around his body began to ripple. Threads of light emerged from the pedestal, weaving intricate patterns through the air. They reached out to him, tendrils of luminescence that wrapped around his formless essence. He felt a pull, gentle at first, then more insistent.
Hope flickered within him. He focused on that sensation, urging himself toward his physical form. The tendrils tightened their grip, drawing him down through the darkness. The chaotic landscape began to stabilize—the skies clearing, the shadows receding.
Closer and closer he came, until he was face to face with himself. Summoning all his strength, he willed himself to merge, to become whole again.
A sudden jolt coursed through him as he snapped back into his body. Sensation flooded in—the solid ground beneath his feet, the cool breeze against his skin, the distant sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong. He gasped, lungs burning as if he'd been holding his breath for hours.
He opened his eyes, blinking against the brightness of the world. Colors seemed more vivid, the air sweeter, every detail sharpened to an almost overwhelming clarity. He lifted his hands, flexing his fingers, marveling at the simple joy of movement.
Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by lingering unease. "What was that?" he whispered aloud, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.
Looking around, he found himself in a vast meadow stretching as far as the eye could see. Wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, and a river glistened in the distance. But there was something surreal about it all—an undercurrent of magic that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
In the sky above, symbols began to appear—ethereal runes that shimmered and shifted before fading away. He recognized them from the game's lore, sigils representing different attributes and abilities.
Maverick finally understood. This was the character creation process, but not as he had ever experienced it. It was immersive, visceral—a blending of reality and game in a way that defied logic.
His fear gave way to awe. He wasn't just selecting options from a menu; he was living it. The possibilities stretched out before him like the endless horizon.
A soft chime echoed around him, and a disembodied voice spoke, rich and resonant. "Welcome, Maverick. Your journey begins now. Choose your path wisely; for once it has begun there are no second chances."
He took a deep breath, a newfound confidence settling within him. The initial terror had transformed into excitement, as if some exterior force had calmed his mind.
"All right, let's see what this world has to offer." he said to the open air, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. But before he could move an inch another window popped up before his eyes.
**System Notice**
Stolen novel; please report.
Character Creation allows newly mana-infused beings to alter their physical form, including but not limited to appearance, attributes, race (if prerequisites are met), and various other options.
However, in your case, Maverick, additional options have been unlocked as a Chosen of the Azure Flame. Small alterations will be made to your physical self regardless of your prior choices, but you now have the opportunity to make those alterations more personal.
Be warned: these changes can be previewed and modified, but once your choices are confirmed and finalized, there will be no further chance to modify yourself without a Rebirth Stone.
**Do you accept**
**Yes/No**
Again and for what was becoming increasingly habitual, Maverick was at a loss for what to do. Confusion filled his mind as what the message had stated. He understood the words, and their meaning, just not able to process that he could now make alterations to himself.
Maverick shrugged again to himself, as he figured he’d already come this far, and honestly appreciated the warning of how permeant these changes would be. Maverick mentally selected yes.
In his vision, a blue window materialized before him, filled with boxes, sliders and tabs—everything one could possibly want when creating a unique character in a favorite game.
The temptations these options presented were overwhelming. He could increase his height to over nine feet tall, alter his bone structure, even change the very composition of his hair. The possibilities were endless. Yet, Maverick decided not to go wild and make himself completely unrecognizable. He reasoned that too many drastic changes might prevent him from functioning properly in his own body, forcing him to relearn basic movements. Worse yet, his mother and Emily might not recognize him.
He experimented with various alterations—changing his hair color to vibrant shades, adding scars that hinted at epic battles, adjusting his height, modulating his voice, and incorporating a few more personal touches. Surprisingly, this process didn't evoke any sense of body dysmorphia or concern as he had expected. It felt natural, like an artist refining his masterpiece.
After what felt like hours of experimentation, Maverick ultimately reset himself back to his normal appearance. He only added a few inches to his height, lightened his eye color to a soft brown-golden hue, and removed some unwanted skin blemishes. He was ready to finalize himself. Maverick was essentially the same—just a sharper, more high-definition version of himself. While he had never been the most eye-catching person in the room, he would definitely be classified in that category now.
As Maverick moved around in his new body, everything felt great. He felt more like himself, just as he did while immersed in **The Veil Online**. After testing his agility by climbing trees and swimming in the nearby stream, he was satisfied. Mentally, he selected the confirmation button to keep this appearance. As he confirmed his choices, the system once again displayed another message.
**System Notice**
Now that your physical attributes are locked in, you must decide how you wish to present your Mark of the Azure Flame. Sample marks have been provided, but you have complete freedom to create your own design as long as it adheres to specific guidelines. Would you like to begin?
**Yes / No**
Maverick shrugged and selected Yes.
"This is going to be fun," he muttered to himself, a grin spreading across his face as the endless array of options unfolded before him.
He dove into the customization interface, his eyes scanning the myriad of possibilities. The sheer variety was overwhelming—symbols, patterns, ghost-like armor pieces, ethereal effects—each more elaborate than the last. He knew he wanted something extraordinary, a mark that would not only represent his newfound connection to the Azure Flame but not something over the top. Maverick was never one to be in the spot light if avoidable.
Maverick began experimenting with various designs. He toyed with intricate tattoos of cerulean fire spiraling up his arms, luminous runes etched into his skin, and ethereal wings shimmering with blue flames. Yet none captured the essence of his vision.Then inspiration struck. He remembered an extremely powerful super villain whose most defining feature was their eyes.
He envisioned a haunting glow within his eyes: flaming halos encircling his pupils. In the darkness, his gaze would pierce through shadows, the fiery rings instilling fear and awe in those who dared to meet his stare. The halos wouldn't just reflect light—they would radiate a subtle, otherworldly luminescence, flickering like living flames.
Adjusting the settings, he crafted the fiery halos with meticulous care. The flames danced and swirled around his pupils, their intensity ebbing and flowing with his emotions. When angered, the halos would flare brightly, casting an eerie glow on his face; when calm, they would smolder softly, almost imperceptible.
But Maverick wanted more. Just because he didn't like the limelight didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a little showmanship.
As a secondary mark, Maverick chose a set of flaming wings—not angelic in the holy sense, but radiant and terrible, like an omen of ruin descending from the heavens. The wings unfolded from his back in a crescent arc of azure fire, their feathers jagged and ever-shifting, each plume flickering like a blade caught in a storm.
They weren’t solid or ornamental. These wings were a statement—a symbol of power born from fire, and the will to wield it without apology. When folded, they shimmered faintly behind him like a heat mirage; when spread, they roared to life, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his silhouette.
He turned, catching a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface. The flaming halos in his eyes burned steady, while the wings pulsed with a deeper rhythm—matching his heartbeat, his focus, his fury. They moved not with the wind, but with intent, like extensions of his will.
Together, they gave him the look of something forged for war—not a savior, but a reckoning. An angel of destruction walking the mortal plane. A slow grin crept onto Maverick’s face. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” With a spark of satisfaction, he confirmed his choices. The system processed the selections, and a final message appeared.
**System Notice**
Be warned, chosen. Now that your mark is manifest others of your brood will take notice. Your mark will manifest in their presence. Tread carefully as not all chosen will seek friendship, but rather destruction as a means for their powers to grow. One final task remains before you are returned to your world. Please select your starting class and attributes.
Taking over his vision once again, a blue hued window showed him four options, with the last being silver in color.
**Class Selection**
You must choose a starting class to build your power from. These classes have been chosen based on your personality and affinities. Class evolutions will come as you grow in power, manifesting from your experiences and trials faced. Additionally you have been granted an uncommom class associated with the Azure Flame as one of their chosen. (Note: once a class is chosen you may not alter your path until assention has begun.There are other means of change, but they are few and hard to find.)
Maverick looked at his options, excited to see what followed, surely, it had to be different from the basic three given to TVO new players.
Elementalist (common)
- Description: A mage specializing in controlling elemental forces. Elementalists can harness fire, water, earth, and air to devastate foes or protect allies.
- Key Attributes: Intelligence, Wisdom
- Primary Skills: Elemental Mastery, Elemental Shield, Summon Elemental
Warlock (uncommon)
- Description: A spellcaster who gains magical power through a pact with a powerful entity such as a demon, fey, or eldritch being. Warlocks wield dark and arcane magic, specializing in curses, summoning, and eldritch spells.
- Key Attributes: Intelligence, Charisma
- Primary Skills: Shadow Bolt Pact Boon Eldritch Invocation.
Ranger (common)
- Description: An expert marksman or fighter who thrives anywhere in any environment. Rangers use bows, short swords or daggers and have a deep connection with the world around them.
- Key Attributes: Dexterity, Perception
- Primary Skills: Archery, Tracking, Animal Companion
Flame Novice (uncommon)
- Description: An uncommon magic user who has embarked on a path towards the mystical Azure Flame. This class specializes in wielding azure flames that are hotter and more potent than ordinary fire. Primarily focused on Melee, the Flames Novice channels flames into combat, making them versatile on the battlefield.
- Key Attributes: Mind, Dexterity, Spirit
- Primary Skills: Flame Infusion, Azure Shield, Blaze Step.
Maverick stood before the shimmering array of options floating before him, each class icon pulsing with its own unique energy. He was pleasantly surprised by the choices laid out. The Warlock class had served him well in the past; he knew intimately the depths of its power once leveled. The memory of wielding dark spells, the rush of arcane energy coursing through his veins—it was a familiar comfort.
But then his gaze lingered on an unfamiliar icon: Flame Novice. The name itself intrigued him. It was an uncommon class, highlighted with a subtle glow that hinted at untapped potential. A melee class that used fire magic to augment fighting skills—not just any fire, but Azure Flame. This wasn't the typical spellsword that the majority of players in The Veil Online favored. No, this was something different, something... extraordinary.
He felt a pull toward it, an almost magnetic attraction. "Could this be why I was chosen?" he thought. The Warlock was a safe choice, a path he could walk with his eyes closed. But safety had its price. So many times, Maverick had wished his Warlock class offered more diversity with weapons, but it remained primarily rooted in magic. Backline fighting never truly suited him; being a glass cannon was advantageous only until the enemy closed the gap.
He recalled battles where he stood on the fringes, casting spells while others engaged up close. There was always a yearning inside him—a desire to be in the thick of it, to feel the clash of blades and the heat of combat firsthand. The Flame Novice seemingly promised that and more.
"Is it worth staking my newfound future on an untested class?" he mused. Doubt flickered briefly. The unknown was a double-edged sword—full of potential but also fraught with risks. Yet, the idea of melding his affinity for the Azure Flame with close-quarter combat was too enticing to ignore.
His mind whirred with possibilities. He imagined himself wielding weapons wreathed in blue fire, cutting through darkness with both skill and elemental fury. The thought sent a thrill through him, igniting a spark of excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Warlock may be the easy road, but when have I ever taken the easy road?" he whispered to himself. The Flame Novice wasn't just a class; it was an opportunity for reinvention, a chance to break free from old constraints and redefine his path.
His decision crystallized. The allure of the Azure Flame, the promise of a new fighting style—it all resonated deeply within him. Maverick took a deep breath, his mental finger hovering over the selection.
"Let's see where this new path leads," he said with a determined smile.
He didn't hesitate any longer and selected the class. As his choice was confirmed, a foreign power surged through him. His veins grew hot—not with pain, but with a fierce, invigorating warmth. He felt the energy of the Azure Flame intertwining with his very essence. His mark manifested dramatically: the flaming halos ignited around his pupils, casting a soft azure glow, and the wings spread wide ready to take flgiht.
The air around him crackled with newfound energy. Maverick flexed his hands, feeling the balance between physical strength and magical prowess. There was a harmony here, a synergy he'd longed for but never found.
"Now this is power," he thought, clenching his fist as wisps of blue flame danced around it.
The system processed his selections, and a final message appeared before him, but his mind was already racing ahead, eager to embrace the challenges and adventures that awaited with his new class.
Usually fire was never his go to element in any game, but for now it would do, considering it was usually the most potentially destructive at lower levels.
Having made his selection and feeling the power winding down within him, Maverick returned to the real world. The apocalyptic scene remained unchanged, as if time had paused, waiting for him to rejoin the moment. Strangely, he sensed that no time had passed at all during his immersion in the creation menu—a gut feeling that felt undeniably accurate.
Maverick turned and walked back into the building searching for Emily. Maverick surveyed the interior of the old observatory, their makeshift sanctuary from the unnatural tsunami that had swallowed their town. The thick cement walls had held strong against the mana-infused waves, and from the high hill, they could see the devastation laid out below. Streets had become rivers, and familiar buildings were either pulled to sea or reduced to ruins.
Looking around at his fellow survivors, Maverick noticed remarkable changes. Almost everyone appeared different in some way. A woman who once had a large mole on her face now stood with clear skin and long, lustrous blonde hair. The old man from earlier seemed decades younger, his wrinkles smoothed out and a full dark beard replacing his thinning gray.
But others remained exactly the same, unchanged as if they had been excluded from whatever phenomenon had altered the rest. Only six of the gathered forty or so people seemed to have not experienced the opportunity to transform.
The biggest surprise was Emily. Maverick's childhood best friend had always been beautiful in his eyes, but now she seemed radiant, almost ethereal. Her strawberry-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders with a new sheen, and her emerald eyes sparkled even in the dim light of the observatory. She stood taller—now about five-eleven—with toned muscles that hinted at both strength and agility.
Maverick found himself momentarily speechless as he glanced at her. He trailed off mid-thought, unable to articulate the mix of surprise and admiration he felt.
Emily caught his gaze and offered a wry smile. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she teased.
He blinked, snapping out of his reverie. "Sorry, Em. It's just... you look different."
She raised an eyebrow playfully. "Different good or different bad?"
"Definitely good," he replied quickly. "Not that there was anything wrong before. You were always—" He stopped himself, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.
She chuckled softly. "Relax, I'm just messing with you." Her eyes scanned him up and down. "Looks like I'm not the only one who decided to make some changes."
Maverick shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Guess it happened to me too. Though I'm not entirely surprised anymore."
Emily stepped closer, her gaze settling on his eyes. "Are your eyes... golden now?"
He nodded. "Yeah but only partially, part of the new package."
She tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes. "I liked your old ones, but these are... intriguing. They suit you."
"Thanks, I think," he said with a chuckle. "I could say the same about you. You look ready to take on the world."
She sighed, glancing around at the others. "After everything that's happened, I figured a change couldn't hurt. Besides, if the world's gone crazy, might as well be prepared."
He looked around, noting how some people appeared lost, while others examined their new forms with awe or confusion. "Did you notice that only a few of us didn’t change?"
She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. It's like we were given an opportunity that others weren't."
"Any idea why?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No clue. Maybe it has something to do with the mana infusion. Or maybe we were just in the right—or wrong—place at the right time."
A heavy silence settled between them as they contemplated the uncertainty of their situation.
"So, what now?" Maverick finally asked.
Emily glanced toward the observatory's heavy doors, beyond which the world lay in disarray. "The water's pretty much receded, and most people seem to be going their own way. Maybe we should do the same and see what's left of our town."
He nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. But we should stick together."
She smiled warmly. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
As they made their way toward the exit, Maverick noticed the air felt different—charged, almost humming with energy. "Do you feel that?" he asked.
Emily paused, closing her eyes for a moment. "Yeah, it's like the air is... alive."
"Must be the mana," he mused. "I wonder how much the world has changed."
She gave him a determined look. "Only one way to find out."