The fluorescent lights of Ashmont Secondary School buzzed overhead like angry wasps as Sonny walked down the crowded hallway. His backpack hung loosely over one shoulder, stuffed with textbooks he barely understood and assignments he'd probably fail. At eighteen years old, Sonny should have been preparing for graduation, but instead, he was just trying to survive another day.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the loser himself."
Sonny's stomach dropped. He knew that voice. He'd heard it in his nightmares.
Marcus Steele stepped out from behind a group of laughing students, his broad shoulders blocking the hallway like a wall of muscle and malice. Marcus was everything Sonny wasn't tall, athletic, popular, and cruel. His perfectly styled dark hair and expensive sneakers made him look like he owned the school. In many ways, he did.
"I was just thinking about you, Sonny boy," Marcus said, cracking his knuckles. His gang of followers three guys who laughed at everything Marcus said formed a semicircle behind him. "Did you finish my homework?"
"I… I don't have it," Sonny mumbled, looking at the floor. His shaggy brown hair fell over his eyes, and he was grateful for it. At least Marcus couldn't see the shame burning in his face.
"You don't have it?" Marcus's voice rose in mock surprise. "Boys, did you hear that? Our little errand boy doesn't have my homework."
The hallway seemed to grow quieter. Other students stopped to watch, their phones already out, ready to record whatever happened next. No one would help. They never did.
"I'm sorry," Sonny whispered. "I tried, but I didn't understand the math problems, and"
"And nothing!" Marcus grabbed Sonny's backpack and yanked it hard, sending Sonny stumbling backward. His books spilled across the floor in a cascade of paper and failure. "You're useless, you know that? Can't even do simple homework. Can't even stand up straight."
Marcus shoved Sonny's chest, and Sonny crashed into the lockers with a metallic bang that echoed through the hall. Pain shot through his shoulder blade. Some of the watching students laughed. Others just stared with blank expressions, grateful it wasn't them.
"Please," Sonny said, his voice cracking. "Just leave me alone."
"Leave you alone?" Marcus leaned in close, his breath hot against Sonny's face. "Where's the fun in that? You're like my personal punching bag. Besides, nobody cares about you anyway. Not your teachers, not these students, and definitely not those foster freaks you live with."
Something twisted in Sonny's chest at that last comment. Marcus always knew exactly where to strike to make it hurt the most.
"Hey!" A teacher's voice cut through the tension. "What's going on here?"
Marcus immediately stepped back, his expression shifting to one of innocent concern. "Nothing, Mr. Peters. Sonny just dropped his books. We were helping him pick them up. Right, Sonny?"
All eyes turned to Sonny. He could tell the truth. He could finally expose Marcus for the bully he was. But what would happen then? Marcus would deny it. His friends would back him up. And tomorrow, or the next day, Marcus would make his life even worse.
"Right," Sonny said quietly, bending down to gather his scattered belongings. "Just… dropped my books."
Mr. Peters looked between them suspiciously but eventually nodded and walked away. The moment he was gone, Marcus kicked one of Sonny's textbooks down the hall.
"See you tomorrow, loser," Marcus said with a grin, then walked away with his crew, their laughter trailing behind them like poison.
Sonny knelt on the cold floor, picking up his books one by one, watching everyone else's shoes walk past him. Not a single person stopped to help.
This was his life. And he hated every second of it.
The walk home took forty-five minutes. Sonny could have taken the bus, but his foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Graves, refused to give him bus money. "Build character," Mr. Graves always said with a sneer. "Besides, it's not like you're doing anything important anyway."
The Graves house stood at the end of Maple Street a two story building with peeling paint and a front yard that looked like it had given up on life. Sonny stood on the porch for a moment, staring at the chipped red door, gathering his courage. He could hear the television blaring inside. Mrs. Graves was watching her soap operas.
He opened the door as quietly as possible.
"Is that you, Sonny?" Mrs. Graves's shrill voice pierced through the house before he'd even closed the door.
"Yes, ma'am," Sonny replied, slipping off his worn out sneakers.
"About time!" She appeared in the doorway of the living room, her arms crossed over her floral dress. Mrs. Graves was a thin woman with a permanent scowl that made her look like she'd been sucking on lemons for years. "The dishes from breakfast are still in the sink. The trash needs to be taken out. The bathroom needs scrubbing. And don't even think about eating dinner until everything is spotless. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I don't know why we keep you around," she muttered, turning back to her show. "You're nothing but a burden. Can't even keep your grades up. Can't do anything right. My real children were never this useless."
Sonny's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He'd learned long ago that talking back only made things worse.
For the next three hours, Sonny scrubbed, cleaned, swept, and organized. His hands were raw from the harsh cleaning chemicals, and his back ached from bending over the bathtub. By the time he finished, it was already eight o'clock at night. Mr. Graves had come home an hour ago and hadn't even acknowledged Sonny's existence, just grunted and grabbed a beer from the fridge.
Sonny ate his dinner alone in the kitchen leftover rice and some canned beans. The Graves family had eaten fried chicken. He could smell it from the trash.
Finally, mercifully, he escaped to his tiny room in the attic. It wasn't much just a small space with a mattress on the floor, a rickety desk, and his most prized possession: his TV console.
The console was five years old, scratched and dented from use, but it was Sonny's only escape from reality. When he played games, he wasn't the bullied kid. He wasn't the unwanted foster child. He was someone powerful. Someone important. Someone who mattered.
Tonight, like every night, Sonny turned on the console and loaded up his favorite game: "Eternal Conquest."
The title screen appeared with its epic orchestral music and dramatic imagery of warriors battling demons. Sonny had been playing this game for five years ever since he'd saved up enough money from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood to buy it used from a pawn shop.
But despite five years of playing, despite hundreds of hours invested, Sonny had never gotten past Level Three.
It should have been impossible. Kids half his age had beaten the entire game. There were walkthroughs online, strategy guides, video tutorials. But no matter what Sonny did, his character a warrior named Blade always seemed to move wrong, attack at the wrong time, dodge in the wrong direction.
It was like the character had a mind of its own and refused to listen to Sonny's commands.
"Okay," Sonny said to himself, gripping the controller tightly. "Tonight's the night. I'm going to beat Level Three. I'm going to prove I'm not useless."
The level loaded. Dark Forest, Stage Three. His character, Blade, stood in a clearing surrounded by twisted trees and glowing red eyes in the darkness. The objective was simple: defeat the Shadow Beast and collect its core.
Sonny pressed forward on the controller. Blade moved… backward.
"What? No, no, no!" Sonny frantically jabbed the controls. "Forward! I said forward!"
Blade spun in a circle, then walked directly into a tree.
The Shadow Beast emerged from the darkness a massive creature with six legs, glowing yellow eyes, and fangs like daggers. It roared, and the sound shook through the TV speakers.
"Attack!" Sonny pressed the attack button repeatedly.
Blade sheathed his sword.
"Are you kidding me?!" Sonny shouted at the screen.
The Shadow Beast lunged. Its claws raked across Blade's body. Health bar dropping. Sonny tried to dodge, but Blade just stood there, taking hit after hit, as if he wanted to die.
"MOVE!" Sonny screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.
But it was too late. Blade's health hit zero. The character crumpled to the ground. The screen flashed red: "YOU DIED."
"GAME OVER" appeared in bold letters, mocking him.
Something inside Sonny snapped.
Five years. Five years of this same level. Five years of failure. He'd failed at school. He'd failed at standing up to Marcus. He'd failed at making his foster parents even slightly proud of him. And now he couldn't even beat a simple video game that children half his age had conquered.
"I HATE THIS!" Sonny roared, and before he could think, before he could stop himself, he raised the controller high above his head and smashed it down onto the console.
CRACK!
Plastic shattered. Pieces flew across the room. The screen went black. Sparks flickered from the broken machine, and then… nothing. Silence.
Sonny stared at the destruction, his chest heaving with rage and grief. His one escape. His only source of joy. He'd destroyed it.
"What have I done?" he whispered, sinking onto his mattress. "What the hell have I done?"
The room suddenly felt smaller, darker, more suffocating. The walls seemed to close in around him. Sonny lay back on his thin pillow, covering his face with his hands.
"I can't even play a stupid game," he said to the empty room, his voice breaking. "I'm such a failure. Marcus is right. Mrs. Graves is right. Everyone is right. I'm useless."
Hot tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, but he wiped them away angrily. No. He wouldn't cry. Crying changed nothing.
"Screw it," Sonny muttered. "Just… screw everything."
He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep, to forget this miserable day. But his mind kept racing. The bullying. The chores. The broken console. The character that never listened. Why? Why was everything in his life so wrong?
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Sonny couldn't tell anymore.
Then, thirst clawed at his throat. His mouth felt like sandpaper.
"I need water," he mumbled, sitting up slowly.
But the moment Sonny stood, the room tilted violently to the left. His vision blurred. Black spots danced across his eyes like fireflies. His legs felt like jelly, barely able to support his weight.
"What's… happening…?" Sonny reached out for the wall to steady himself, but his hand passed through empty air.
Then his knees buckled, and Sonny collapsed face-first onto the floor.
The last thing he heard was the dull thud of his own body hitting the ground.
Then… darkness.
*Am I dead?* was the question he asked himself
That was Sonny's first thought when consciousness slowly returned. But death probably wouldn't feel this weird. He seemed to be floating in an endless black void, neither falling nor standing, just… existing.
Then, a sound. A soft *ding*, like a notification on a phone.
Sonny opened his eyes or tried to. He couldn't tell if they were actually open because everything was still pitch black.
Another ding
And then, right in front of his face, a glowing blue screen materialized out of nowhere. It hung in the air, pulsing with light, covered in text that looked like something straight out of a video game.
```
╔═════════════
║ SYSTEM INITIALIZATION ║
║ ║
║ Welcome, Player Candidate ║
║ Name: Sonny [LAST NAME UNKNOWN] ║
║ Age: 18 ║
║ Status: DECEASED [TEMPORARY] ║
╚══════════════════
"What the…" Sonny tried to speak, but his voice sounded distant and echoing, like he was underwater.
The screen flickered, and new text appeared.
╔════════════════════════════════════╗
║ CONGRATULATIONS! ║
║ ║
║ You have been selected as a ║
║ potential Player for the ║
║ GAME OF GODS ║
║ ║
║ For 5 years, you have attempted ║
║ to control a character within ║
║ our system. You have failed ║
║ repeatedly because that character ║
║ was never meant to be controlled ║
║ by external forces. ║
║ ║
║ But YOU can be different. ║
║ ║
║ YOU can become the player. ║
║ YOU can enter the game directly. ║
║ YOU can control your own destiny. ║
║ ║
║ Do you accept? ║
║ ║
║ [YES] [NO] ║
╚══════════════════
Sonny stared at the glowing screen, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. This had to be a dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought when he collapsed.
But it felt real. Too real.
"The game I just destroyed?" Sonny's voice echoed in the void. "Eternal Conquest? That was… you?"
The screen pulsed, as if acknowledging his question.
`
═════════════════╗
║ CORRECT. ║
║ ║
║ Eternal Conquest was a gateway, ║
║ a test to find worthy candidates. ║
║ Most players control the game ║
║ easily. But YOU struggled because ║
║ the character BLADE was resisting ║
║ your commands. He was alive, ║
║ conscious, and refused to be ║
║ controlled. ║
║ ║
║ This means you have WILLPOWER. ║
║ You have DETERMINATION. ║
║ You kept trying despite 5 years ║
║ of failure. ║
║ ║
║ You are worthy. ║
║ ║
║ Now choose: ║
║ Become the player, or remain ║
║ in your world of suffering. ║
║ ║
║ [YES] [NO] ║
╚══════════════════
Sonny's mind raced. Go back? Back to Marcus's bullying? Back to the Graves family treating him like garbage? Back to being useless, powerless, worthless?
Or… enter a game where HE was in control. Where HE made the choices. Where HE held the power.
It wasn't even a real choice.
"If I go back," Sonny said slowly, "nothing changes. I'm still nobody. I'm still weak."
The screen waited silently.
"But if I accept…" A strange feeling bloomed in Sonny's chest. Not quite hope he'd forgotten what that felt like. But something close to it. Something warm and fierce and desperate. "If I accept, maybe I can finally be someone who matters."
He reached out his hand toward the glowing [YES] button. His fingers trembled as they hovered over the light.
"I accept," Sonny whispered.
Then louder: "I ACCEPT!"
His finger pressed down on [YES].
The void exploded with light.
Brilliant, blinding white light that consumed everything. Sonny felt his body dissolving, breaking apart into a million particles, then reforming. He was being pulled, stretched, compressed, remade. It didn't hurt, but it felt wrong in a way that made his stomach flip.
Then, suddenly, he was falling.
Sonny's scream tore from his throat as he plummeted through swirling colors and shapes that made no sense. Down, down, down through layers of reality that bent and twisted like melting wax.
And then THUD.
Sonny hit solid ground. Real, actual ground. He gasped, his hands digging into dirt and grass. His lungs burned as he sucked in air that smelled of pine trees and rain and something else… something metallic and sharp.
Slowly, carefully, Sonny pushed himself up to his knees and looked around.
He was in a forest. But not like any forest he'd ever seen. The trees were massive, their trunks wider than cars, stretching up so high their tops disappeared into a purple-tinted sky. Strange flowers glowed with soft bioluminescence, casting eerie shadows. In the distance, he could hear the roar of some creature he couldn't identify.
"Holy crap," Sonny breathed. "It's real. It's fucking actually real."
*DING!*
The sound made him jump. The blue screen materialized in front of him again, but this time it looked different more detailed, more refined.
════════════════╗
║ WELCOME TO THE GAME OF GODS ║
║ ║
║ Player: SONNY ║
║ Level: 1 ║
║ Status: ACTIVE ║
║ ║
║ You are now a Player in the ║
║ Game of Gods, a realm where ║
║ legends are born and destinies ║
║ are forged. ║
║ ║
║ To survive and thrive, you ║
║ must first select your ║
║ DIVINE ATTRIBUTE. ║
║ ║
║ Choose wisely. This choice ║
║ cannot be undone. ║
╚══════════════════
The screen flickered, and eight new options appeared, each one glowing with a different colored aura:
═══════════════════
║ SELECT YOUR DIVINE ATTRIBUTE: ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF FLAME] ║
║ - Mastery over fire and heat ║
║ - Destruction and purification ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF STARS] ║
║ - Control celestial energy ║
║ - Light and cosmic power ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF MOON] ║
║ - Lunar manipulation ║
║ - Illusion and tides ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF SEA] ║
║ - Command water and storms ║
║ - Healing and drowning ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF LIGHTNING] ║
║ - Electric devastation ║
║ - Speed and precision ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF FROST] ║
║ - Ice and cold mastery ║
║ - Freezing and slowing ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF BLOOD] ║
║ - Life force manipulation ║
║ - Sacrifice and empowerment ║
║ ║
║ [GOD OF SHADOW] ║
║ - Darkness and stealth ║
║ - Assassination and fear ║
╚═════════════════
Sonny's eyes scanned each option, his heart pounding with excitement. Each one sounded powerful. Each one could make him strong.
Flame would let him burn everything that had ever hurt him. Stars seemed majestic and overwhelming. Lightning was fast and deadly.
But his gaze kept returning to one option: GOD OF SHADOW.
Shadows. Darkness. The ability to hide, to strike unseen, to become something that monsters feared.
His whole life, Sonny had been invisible. People looked through him, ignored him, dismissed him. What if he could use that? What if he could turn his greatest weakness into his greatest strength?
Besides, something about the darkness called to him. It felt… right. Like it understood him in a way nothing else ever had.
"Shadow," Sonny said, his voice steady for the first time in years. "I choose the God of Shadow."
His finger pressed the [GOD OF SHADOW] option.
The world went black.
Not the soft darkness of night, but absolute, complete darkness. Sonny felt something cold wrap around his body like liquid silk. It didn't hurt it felt like being embraced by the night itself. The darkness seeped into his skin, into his bones, into his very soul.
When the light returned, Sonny looked down at himself and gasped.
His clothes had changed. He now wore a black cloak that seemed to absorb light, dark leather armor that fit perfectly to his body, and boots that made no sound when he shifted his feet. Most importantly, he felt different. Stronger. More alive than he'd ever felt in his entire life.
DING
═════════════════╗
║ SELECTION CONFIRMED ║
║ ║
║ Player: SONNY ║
║ Divine Attribute: GOD OF SHADOW ║
║ Level: 1 ║
║ HP: 100/100 ║
║ MP: 50/50 ║
║ ║
║ ABILITIES UNLOCKED: ║
║ - Shadow Step (Level 1) ║
║ - Dark Vision (Passive) ║
║ - Minor Shadow Manipulation ║
╚══════════════════
Another notification appeared immediately after:
`
═════════════════╗
║ QUEST RECEIVED: FIRST TRIAL ║
║ ║
║ The God of Shadow was once a ║
║ legendary being who ruled the ║
║ night. But his power was sealed ║
║ away, scattered across the ║
║ realm. ║
║ ║
║ Your first task is to reclaim ║
║ what was lost. ║
║ ║
║ OBJECTIVE: ║
║ Find and acquire the ║
║ SHADOW GOD'S LOST BLADE ║
║ ║
║ Location: The Whispering Ruins ║
║ (2.3 km Northwest) ║
║ ║
║ Reward: +500 EXP, Shadow Blade, ║
║ Skill Upgrade ║
║ ║
║ WARNING: Difficulty - MODERATE ║
║ Recommended Level: 3-5 ║
║ ║
║ [ACCEPT QUEST] ║
╚═════════════════
Sonny read the warning and couldn't help but laugh a genuine laugh that felt strange coming from his throat.
"Recommended level three to five, and I'm level one?" He shook his head, a wild grin spreading across his face. "Figures. Even here, nothing's going to be easy."
But for the first time in his life, Sonny didn't feel defeated by the challenge. He felt… excited. Ready. Alive.
He pressed [ACCEPT QUEST], and a glowing arrow appeared in his vision, pointing northwest through the forest.
"Alright," Sonny said, clenching his fists. The shadows around him seemed to ripple in response to his determination. "Let's do this. I've got a blade to find and a life to start over."
He took his first step into the glowing forest, leaving behind the broken, bullied boy he used to be.
Sonny the Player had been born.
And the Game of Gods would never be the same.