Hans Flemmens grunted as his hands lay flat on the desk, exhausted. The computer screen showed a "Defeat" dialog. Again.
"Ayo, bro, why do you keep inting like that?" Hans complained, rubbing his eyes as he pulled the mic closer to his mouth. "We've lost three games now."
"Sorry, bro, I'll carry you next time…" the voice on the other side replied, tinged with a hint of awkwardness and haste.
Then, their party disbanded, and his teammate went offline.
Hans shook his head and sighed, closing the game session and turning off the app. He pulled the green headset off and hung it on the side.
He stood up from his black gaming chair, which creaked softly beneath him.
On the right was a large window, draped with smooth curtains that had been pulled to the sides. The warm sunlight flowed freely into his apartment, bringing a sense of ambiance to his otherwise dull world.
"Ah… what time is it already?" His dark eyes glanced at the clock, but the numbers looked blurrier than usual. He straightened his eyeglasses and focused, finally able to read the clock's digits.
"3:35 PM, huh? Work in four hours, I guess."
Hans groaned while his body tensed as he stretched his limbs out. He looked through the window and noticed the slightly darker sky above.
He squinted as a thought popped into his mind.
Climate change, now?
He wasn't of this Earth, or rather, Planet Aurelia.
It was a habitable planet, much larger than Earth itself, easily accommodating trillions of humans across several countries. The resources were abundant, and so was the diversity of animals and plants.
Hans even saw some species he had never seen in either of his lives, particularly lizards with wings.
Though Aurelia's culture referred to them as flying lizards, Hans scoffed at such a lame name and decided to call them "dragons."
In this life, Hans became a slightly better-than-average student, excelling in his studies and graduating with scholastic honors.
With his outstanding academic performance, he secured a job in Grefort City, Ashington Country, as a web programmer, earning six figures in Crescent dollars, which readily sustained him and even provided additional income for his parents and siblings.
Hans thought that this life was going to be different, and although it was, it fell short of what he called a transmigrator's storytelling. A cultivation world, or a world born with might and magic—whatever novels he had read before. Unfortunately, he was bound to be disappointed.
Despite this, he thought.
At least I can live without much danger.
As his thoughts wandered, he moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The light flickered once, illuminating the products inside.
A bunch of eggs, some vegetables, milk containers, and drinks. All of them lay inside his fridge in a not-so-neat way.
Hans scoffed to himself, having no time to arrange his fridge properly, and grabbed a red energy drink from the side shelf. He popped the cap open and started gulping unceremoniously.
As the cool, acidic liquid ran down his throat and into his stomach, he felt his body slowly revitalized. Then, he started thinking of going for another round.
Nah, today's too unlucky. I'll play something else instead.
He sat back down on his gaming chair and propped up his headset. His cursor moved toward a familiar game, Red Alert.
Although it felt vastly different from the classic RTS game he had played before, the gameplay itself was enjoyable. It had very high replay value, with Hans engaging in skirmishes against A.I. and sometimes even against human opponents.
He won some and lost some. Ultimately, Hans gained extensive experience in base building, consistently achieving higher rankings on Red Alert's leaderboards. Although he couldn't be called an expert among them, ranking in the Top 1000 said it all.
Hans's hands moved, clicking on the Multiplayer tab and looking for an available lobby. Hundreds of lobbies lined up on his screen, and Hans selected one at random.
It was a Team Deathmatch game, a 3v3 on a 6-player map. Hans recalled it, having played on this map a few times before.
Once the player slots were full, the game started, and Hans selected the Crescent Federation. Armed with conventional units and buildings, one could say that the Crescent Federation was the most balanced yet overpowered faction in the Red Alert game.
Hans quickly deployed his Mobile Construction Vehicle (MCV), then moved his mouse cursor to the buildings tab, creating a Power Plant and a Barracks.
However, right as he was constructing his Ore Refinery, a sudden shell blast reverberated through his headphones.
"Hmm? Someone's attacking already? So early?"
He was dumbfounded. Even though there was an option for everyone to spawn with a few infantry and tank units, they would usually use them for reconnaissance, poking, or setting up defensive positions.
However, I recall that the unit spawn was set to 0. What was it? A cheater?
The tremors didn't stop, and this time, they reached his computer desk, shaking it incessantly. The sound was deeper and heavier, vibrating through his entire apartment.
Hans's eyes widened as he immediately turned toward the window. Outside, through the curtains, a streak of white fire split the clouds. Then dozens more followed.
A meteor shower? But shouldn't its trajectory have missed Aurelia? Did the forecast fail?
Amidst his surprise, a chemical smell wafted through the vents of his apartment. It was metallic and sweet, yet burned at the back of his throat.
His stomach churned, and he felt the room spin sideways. His hands remained clamped around the keyboard and mouse, dragging both down with him as he fell.
The headphones were still connected to the case unit. Their cable tangled around him and pulled it over as well. The entire computer system crashed, emitting sparks everywhere.
Hans lost consciousness as darkness pressed from all sides. At that moment, a blue spark flashed from his monitor into the computer unit, then streaked through the cables and into his hands.
Within him, a cold, womanly voice called out.
[ Scanning user cognition... Compatible. ]
[ Welcome, Commander. Establishing battlefield control. Stand by. ]
It kept ringing inside his mind, while the entire city fell silent, embroiled in a catastrophe that had already struck.