Perspective: Freya Van Daalen
The worst of Freya's fears… hadn't come true.
She hadn't abandoned her kids — her two little troublemakers — for four whole months.That was the first thing she checked the moment the world began to stabilize again.Her hands were still trembling when she opened the menu, the familiar system chime echoing like relief amid silence.Her eyes darted straight to the internal clock — and for an instant, she almost couldn't believe what she saw.
Forty minutes.
That was all.Only forty minutes since she had stepped through that damned portal.
Four months of sun, rain, hunger, sleep, and fear — all compressed into a little over half an hour.She stared at the display for several seconds, trying to understand how a game — no matter how advanced — could twist time like that.But in the end, she gave up trying to make sense of it.It didn't matter anymore.
What mattered was that she was back.That her children — her real children, out there in the world — hadn't even noticed her absence.And no matter how absurd what she had just lived through seemed, a massive weight lifted from her shoulders.She let out a long sigh, the air escaping as if she were releasing a piece of herself still trapped in that other world.
"Forty minutes," she murmured, a nervous laugh slipping out. "Four months… inside the mind of a lioness."
She still didn't know which was crazier — the fact that she had survived all of it, or that she was still trying to rationalize the experience.Her body still held the echoes of that animal instinct — the scent, the sound, the heat.Everything in her screamed that it had been real.And, in a way, it was.
She looked down and saw the two small cubs sleeping in her lap.Their tiny paws were entwined, golden fur rising and falling with each slow breath.She smiled — tired, confused, but genuinely moved.
There was no denying their physical reality.They existed.They breathed.They dreamed.
And they were… children.Born of an encounter she could barely describe.
Because honestly, what had happened defied every rational explanation.She — Freya Van Daalen, Pilates instructor, mother of two, casual gamer — had spent a night with a man she barely knew, inside a game, in a body that wasn't even human.And somehow, in a way that defied both logic and physics… it had created life.
She ran a hand slowly over the fur of one of the cubs, the warm, soft texture reaffirming what her mind refused to accept."I've officially lost my mind," she murmured with a laugh. "Completely insane."
The whole situation felt like a cosmic joke — a blend of instinct, magic, and code that had resulted in the strangest, most human experience of her life.
When Alessio had decided to face the Lich of the Green Moon alone, she hadn't stopped him.She hadn't even tried.For a brief moment, she'd thought of following him — but her legs wouldn't move.The truth was, she needed that time — to breathe, to think.
She had sat near one of the broken pillars, watching the faint glow of the runes fading along the walls.The metallic scent in the air and the low tremor of the ground still told her the fight was raging deeper inside, but she stayed where she was.From a distance, she could hear the echoes of battle — the crashes of shockwaves, the roars of the undead, the deep rumble of activated skills.But all of it blended with the steady sound of the cubs' breathing.
For a few minutes, the contrast was almost poetic:in there, war;out here, life.
And then, suddenly, the sounds ceased.The runes went out for good.The necromantic energy that had once filled the air was swallowed by emptiness.And Freya knew.
The fight was over.The Lich still existed — she could feel his presence, faint and distant like a fading scent — but he was gone.Far away.
She rose slowly, the cubs still in her arms, and began walking toward the main chamber.There she found Alessio standing, axe in hand, staring at the empty throne with that familiar expression she knew so well — calculating.
He was never the kind of man who stopped to rest.Always one step ahead.Always thinking in terms of plans, strategies, consequences.
But what she didn't expect…was that the first thing out of his mouth would be:
"You're going to have to move."
The words hit her like a cold blade.For a second, her body froze and her heart raced.Move?Leave the shelter?What was he even talking about?
It took every bit of self-control she had not to react — or to keep herself from doing what the impulsive part of her wanted: to yell.
And it was only when Alessio kept talking, explaining, that the ice in her veins began to melt.
"I mean… the first place the Lich of the Green Moon will attack is Durnholde," he said — his tone calm, but firm."So, soon enough, there won't be a city left."
Freya blinked, trying to process.Her heart still pounded, her mind already searching for alternatives — routes, solutions, anywhere to run.
It made sense.The Lich hadn't just survived — he had triggered a regional event.And Durnholde… would be the first sacrifice.
The realization sank over her like a slow, suffocating weight.She looked down at the cubs sleeping in her arms — those small, warm bundles rising and falling with each breath — and for a moment, the entire world seemed to spin around them.
This madness was far from over.
And even knowing that, she couldn't shake the feeling that something inside her was breaking again.That was the natural rhythm of the Black Tower — every time things began to stabilize, everything collapsed once more.
She couldn't say she was attached to Durnholde.That would've been a lie.After all, she had only been there for three days.But inside the Tower, three days were enough to grow roots.
In three days, she had learned the paths between taverns, recognized the smell of the virtual bakeries' sweet bread in the morning, even memorized the names of the guards who always complained about patrol duty.In three days, she had found a kind of rhythm — fragile, but comforting.And somehow, Durnholde had begun to feel like the closest thing that world could offer to home.
Now, that home was doomed.
She glanced around, feeling the chill that still lingered in the air.Move, he said…It sounded simple when Alessio said it — but in practice, it was a nightmare.
Move where?With whom?
She had no guild.No allies.And now… she had two lion cubs sleeping in her arms.
Freya let out a short, humorless laugh.The irony was almost cruel.In just forty minutes of game time, she had become a mother, a survivor, and a refugee — all at once.
She adjusted the cubs carefully, not wanting to wake them, and looked at Alessio from across the hall.He stood before the empty throne, expression calm, eyes already calculating the next step — as if Durnholde's fate was just another variable in his long chain of strategies.
Freya didn't blame him.He was right.The Lich would attack.The city would fall.And staying meant dying.
But still, the uncertainty gnawed at her.Because even if she understood the logic behind his words, she had no idea how to act on them.
Move…
She had no answers.Only the steady sound of the small breaths in her arms — reminding her that, whether she liked it or not, she'd have to find them.
And as the cold wind slipped through the broken columns and the scent of ancient magic began to fade, Freya finally understood what Alessio had meant all along.This wasn't the end of anything.
It was only the prologue of something much greater.