In the year 2030, the world was shaken by the sudden appearance of several colossal towers that fell from the sky without the slightest warning. One of them crashed into downtown New York, obliterating skyscrapers and plunging the city into chaos.
But the fall of the towers was only the beginning.
Dark portals opened across the globe, releasing alien creatures so vicious that the combined militaries of the world failed to halt their advance. Rockets, drones, even tactical nuclear weapons—none of them made a difference. Cities crumbled, millions perished, and human civilization teetered on the brink of annihilation.
Amid the global desperation, a mysterious voice echoed from within every tower, broadcasting through radio waves, telephones, and every communication system on Earth:
"To defeat the portal creatures, humans must enter the Tower.
Inside, you will gain power—power strong enough to face those monsters."
Only those brave enough to step into the towers… would have even the slightest chance to save the world.
A year passed since the first humans entered the towers, and slowly, the situation began to stabilize. Not far from the ruined city of New York, New Jersey became one of the regions still standing.
Although several districts were damaged from the tower quakes and portal assaults, the city remained—cracked, but alive.
Along the main roads, tanks, military trucks, and rows of rocket launchers moved at a steady crawl.
Soldiers guarded every intersection, watching the skies as if expecting something else to fall at any moment.
Surveillance drones hovered overhead, scanning for signs of a new portal forming.
Occasionally, a warning siren wailed from a nearby base, but the residents had grown used to it.
That was life after the towers fell.
And in the midst of it all… stood an old apartment by the river. Its paint was peeling, the balcony cracked, and the elevator had been out of service for years.
Sixth floor.
Door number 6B.
A space hidden from the world—though not by technology or military protection, but simply because its occupant never left.
Inside that room…
The monitor glowed a soft blue, casting gentle light across the darkness.
Cables snaked across the floor.
Empty food containers piled up in the corners.
And in the center of it all sat a thin man with messy hair, a VR headset covering half his face.
Edward.
He was approaching his thirties, yet the only thing that had changed was his body.
His life had stopped on the day the first tower fell.
When the internet finally returned months after the tragedy, he slipped back into his old routine as if the outside world had never collapsed.
He didn't care about the portal creatures.
He didn't care about the military.
He didn't care about the dead, nor about those who had become strong.
To him, all of it was nothing but background noise.
The only thing that mattered was Valdora, and the items that had become the obsession of his life.
Edward's room remained his little fortress—dark, cramped, and filled with the stale smell of fast food he never bothered to throw away. Outside the window, the clanging of metal and the constant thrum of helicopters had never ceased since New York fell, yet he never looked up.
The world might have been breaking apart, but the only world he cared about was the one on the screen in front of him.
"Server's back online," he whispered hoarsely, his voice rough from rarely speaking to anyone. The red internet bar that had been dead for hours flickered green, and Edward's heartbeat quickened—not from fear, but excitement.
He pulled the VR headset—manufactured by the Chinese studio DragonGate Interactive—onto his head. The outside world was filled with rubble and tragedy, but Edward sunk back into Valdora, the only place where he still felt alive.
He pressed the Start button on the VR panel, and the real world vanished like smoke.
In an instant, Valdora greeted him once more—a world that had been his second home for more than a decade.
Before him, his avatar appeared: a worn grey robe, an old wooden staff strapped to his back, and calm green eyes filled with experience. The name floated clearly above the character:
E.D.W.A.R.D — The Oracle Wanderer
Back then, he wasn't like this.
He used to be a swordsman, a social player who joked around, built parties, explored dungeons, and trusted people.
But Valdora was not a world for good men.
For years, he had comrades—
a small party he considered closer than family.
They hunted monsters together, shared loot, laughed past midnight, and planned their futures in the game.
Until they sold him out.
Until the day he found the Fangblade of the Abyss, the first epic item that was truly difficult to obtain. The moment he lifted the blade, the party—calling themselves the Survivors Guild—surrounded him, stabbed him in the back, took the loot, and left him to die.
"Not our fault, Ed. Anyone would do the same for a valuable item."
Those were the last words he heard before the screen went dark.
From that day onward, he stopped trusting anyone.
He changed his class—from Warrior to Oracle.
The strangest class, the most underestimated, the least popular.
No great swords, no shiny armor.
But the Oracle had something no other class could match:
the ability to read future possibilities, predict traps, and track ancient relics that no other class could detect.
A solitary job.
A job meant for someone who preferred to walk alone.
And Edward did.
From that day, he stopped joining parties.
Stopped chatting.
Stopped entering guilds.
He wandered by himself—
from the misty forests of Val'durin,
to the ruins of Mount Zhar,
down into the depths of the Eternal Sea—
collecting legendary items one after another… and keeping all of them.
He never sold a single one.
Even when players offered him tens of thousands of dollars in the real world.
People called him insane, obsessed, strange…
but he kept going.
To Edward, Valdora was not a game.
It was his life.
The only place he could still become something.
**
That night, while the outside world was still struggling to recover from its ruin, Edward sat cross-legged in the middle of his small room, a VR headset covering half his face. The blue glow of the monitor casts long shadows across the walls.
Out there, New York was nothing but rubble.
But in Valdora…
Edward had just located his ninety-ninth relic — the Storm Crown, a legendary circlet said to belong to the god of tempests.
He allowed himself a small smile.
"One more," he whispered. "Just one more…"
What he didn't know was that the game's creators — far away in Beijing — were preparing for a final mission that would change his life forever.
After storing the Storm Crown in his inventory, Edward took a steadying breath and walked toward the dilapidated stone structure in the heart of Ancient Valdora — the place he called the Vault of Echoes.
It wasn't an official in-game location.
It was a hidden chamber only an Oracle could see — a kind of "reflection plane" mentioned in a thousand-year-old fragment of lore he had once unearthed.
Edward pushed against the massive stone door, and a wave of golden light washed over his face.
This was where he kept everything.
Every treasure was real.
Every relic had been obtained through his own sweat, suffering, and solitude.
Every item in this room was something others would gladly kill to possess.
The chamber was vast, circular, built around a single column of swirling light at its center.
Relics lined the carved walls — artifacts from countless eras, myths, and lost civilizations.
---
1. The Staff of Wukong — Ruyi Jingu Bang
Mounted on a golden stand, it looked like nothing more than a waist-high iron rod.
But as Edward approached, red dragon engravings shimmered to life.
The feral aura of the Monkey King pulsed around it, as though his spirit roared within the metal.
---
2. The Golden Diadem of Wukong — Diadem of Heaven's Rebel
Not a tool of torment, as legends claimed — but a relic of rebellion.
Simple. Dull gold.
Yet when Edward's fingers brushed the air near it, faint chimes rang through the dimension itself.
---
3. Zeus's Lightning Spear — Astrapí Lance
The most dangerous relic in Edward's entire collection.
It wasn't placed on a rack.
It floated — suspended mid-air — surrounded by flickering shards of blue electricity.
Each pulse of the silver spear beat like a living heart, shaking the surrounding air.
Even Edward feared holding it for more than five seconds.
---
4. The Talons of Anubis — Claws of the Underjudge
Black obsidian gauntlets tipped with long golden claws.
Anyone who wore them could weigh the sins of another being — and convert its soul into raw energy.
Edward had never tried them on.
He wasn't ready to see what reflection would appear in his own eyes.
---
5. The Mask of Perseus — Gorgon Ward
A white, polished mask carved in the shape of a human face, cracked along the edges.
It could reflect anything — light, attacks… even misfortune.
Edward kept it because it was one of the hardest relics he had ever found.
It took him six months.
---
6. Matsukage — Silent Moonblade
Hung crookedly, as if placed by a blind samurai.
A thin sabre shaped like the crescent moon.
It emitted no glow — instead, it swallowed the light around it.
One swing could mute the world for three whole seconds.
---
7. Leviathan's Fang — Heartscale Fang
A sea-blue fang carved from the scale of a mythical ocean titan.
As Edward neared it, the whole chamber filled with the scent of saltwater and crashing waves.
---
8. The Orb of Time — Chrono Sphere
A silver orb the size of a tennis ball.
It floated and rotated slowly, though no wind stirred the air.
It had never stopped spinning since the day he found it — not even for a moment.
Edward ran his fingers along Wukong's staff. Its aura flickered softly, reflected in the eyes of his avatar.
"If all of this… could really exist," he whispered.
There was no hatred in his voice.
No grudge.
No enemy he wanted to strike down.
Edward had never cared about the outside world.
Ever since the first tower fell ten years ago and the major cities were destroyed, he had stayed inside that cramped apartment. As the internet slowly came back, as game servers revived, he simply returned to Valdora—as if nothing had happened.
To Edward, all that tragedy wasn't his problem.
The real world was too loud, too painful, too unpredictable.
But Valdora?
Here, every relic he collected was proof that his life still meant something.
He looked around, taking in the mythical items he had hunted for a decade without anyone's help. A small smile tugged at his lips—the smile of a man who wanted only one thing:
"…if I could hold all of this for real… maybe everything I've done wouldn't be for nothing."
But before he could savor the moment, the entire Vault of Echoes began to tremble—not like an earthquake, but as if someone was tapping on the walls of reality itself.
A red icon flashed in front of his vision.
A system notification.
No… not a normal one.
Edward frowned.
In fifteen years of playing Valdora, he had never seen this symbol before.
The icon spun, forming the shape of an opening dragon's eye.
> [GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT DETECTED]
Golden letters ignited in the air—
the first sign that something massive was happening.
Edward rose slowly, scanning the Vault as every relic in the room began to hum and vibrate, reacting to something unseen.
"What now…?"
He opened the notification.
And then a voice—an old man's voice, deep and heavy, like it came from the sky itself—echoed across the entire world of Valdora.
> "To all Valdora players… this world will be shut down."
Edward's breath caught.
No.
Impossible.
Valdora had been the most popular game in the world before the towers fell.
It was the only game that survived once the internet slowly returned.
It was the reason many people still remained sane.
The voice continued.
> "DragonGate Interactive will begin a new project. Therefore, Valdora will end in 365 days."
A year.
Only one year left.
Edward felt his stomach drop.
Then the voice slowed—almost like reciting an ancient ritual.
> "And to choose this world's successor… we present the Final Mission."
The sky above the Vault cracked like shattered glass.
All of Valdora changed at once—red lightning, black winds, and the silhouette of a colossal dragon stretching across the horizon.
Edward stood frozen.
The relics on the walls glowed brighter than ever.
> [GLOBAL QUEST: LEGACY'S END]
The final mission for all players.
Only one will be chosen.
The reward…
Your heart's desire will be granted.
Edward swallowed hard.
He didn't believe in destiny.
He didn't believe in people.
He didn't believe in the world outside.
But Valdora?
This was his life.
And for the first time in years… he felt something.
Hope.
In the center of the Vault of Echoes, the pillar of light began to tremble violently.
A red notification flashed in front of Edward.
> [GLOBAL QUEST: THE LAST ASCENSION]
Last chance to enter the Tower of Valdora.
Only players who join this mission may fight for the Ultimate Relic.
Active registered players: 10,438,991
Join?
The YES and NO buttons pulsed softly.
Edward raised an eyebrow.
Ten million players were still active?
People were still hanging on after ten years?
He let out a small, cynical laugh—
Not mocking.
Excited.
"The outside world may be ruined," he whispered, "but Valdora… is still alive."
He brought his finger to the YES button.
The relics around him trembled, as if every legendary artifact was awaiting its master's decision.
And for the first time in a long time, something tightened in Edward's chest—
Not fear, not hesitation.
Confidence.
Not because he was stronger than ten million others.
But because only he had prepared for this moment.
He pressed YES.
Instantly, golden light engulfed the chamber.
The Vault of Echoes shook as legendary items floated into the air, pulled into another dimension.
A neutral system voice echoed:
> "Player Oracle Wanderer accepted.
Initiating Relic Synchronization.
The Final Mission will begin in 24 real-world hours."
Edward slowly closed the menu.
He stood.
Breathed in.
And something incredibly rare—almost unheard of—appeared on his face.
A confident smile.
"It's been a while since I stepped outside," he murmured, removing his VR headset.
Valdora vanished.
He returned to his cramped, dusty, cluttered room.
But for the first time in ten years… he rose from his chair.
His legs trembled, but his steps were steady.
He walked to the door of apartment 6B, gripping the rusted knob that hadn't been touched in years.
Helicopters still thundered outside.
Soldiers still patrolled the ruined streets.
New York was still broken.
But Edward?
For the first time since the towers fell…
he opened the door and stepped out.
With absolute confidence.
Because in Valdora, the Final Mission had been called.
And in the real world… something was about to change.