The soft glow of my computer monitor cast the room in a pale blue haze, shadows stretching long across the cluttered mess. Empty soda cans stood stacked beside my desk like haphazard monuments, while the floor was littered with notebooks covered in hand-drawn maps, logistics diagrams, and strategy plans.
This space was my sanctuary. As midnight approached, I logged into Kaiserfront: Age of Dominion. When the loading screen disappeared, everything shifted.
Here, I wasn't the awkward kid hiding in the back of the classroom, nor the quiet one others talked over or mocked. Here, I was a ruler—an architect of empires. I charted trade routes, balanced resources, managed manpower, and led armies with steady precision.
In Kaiserfront, brains counted. Strategy counted.
Reality had never been so generous.
Back in school, I was either invisible or a target, depending on the day. My classmates would laugh whenever I talked too much about things they had no interest in understanding.
My carefully kept strategy notebooks were dismissed as nothing more than "nerd junk." Over time, I learned that silence was a safer option than risking the sting of ridicule. As I played, fragments of those memories began to resurface.
—Winning an online tournament at two in the morning, fists in the air, dancing alone in my room.—Dropping my strategy notebook in the hallway, catching the sound of someone laughing and calling it my "nerd bible."—Answering a tough question in class, only for my voice to crack halfway through.—Trying to join in during a group activity, watching a classmate turn away mid-sentence.
Out there, victories were few and far between.
In here, logic reigned—and I flourished.
With a quiet sigh, I powered down the monitor, watching as the soft blue glow gradually diminished, leaving the room enveloped in darkness once again. The inevitability of tomorrow loomed ahead, bringing with it the routine of school and the familiar act of concealing any trace of concern or emotion behind a practiced facade.
The Next Day
The classroom hummed with its usual morning commotion—voices overlapping in chatter, chairs scraping against the floor, and the soft shuffle of papers being passed around. I sat tucked away at the back, feigning interest in the open textbook before me while my mind wandered to the supply chain I'd fine-tuned during last night's Kaiserfront session.
Ports, manpower distribution, inland routes.
"John? "
A gentle voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked, snapping back to the present, and lifted my gaze.
Fiona Hale stood beside my desk, her vice-president badge pinned neatly to her uniform. She had known me since childhood—long before school hierarchies, before people decided who mattered and who didn't.
"You're zoning out again," she whispered, brows knit with concern. "You haven't said a word all morning."
"I'm fine," I muttered, gripping my pencil. "Just thinking."
She smiled faintly. "About the game? "
"Maybe."
She sighed—but gently. "I don't mind, John. I just… you've been acting strange lately. If something's bothering you, you can tell me."
Before I could answer—
A palm slammed onto my desk.
"Well, well. Emperor John himself."
Angelo towered above me, his posture exuding confidence, his smug grin clearly designed to draw in the gaze of anyone nearby. Just behind him, Charles and James stood close together, their laughter already spilling into the air. At the rear, Kim kept his distance, his slight frame and restless eyes betraying a nervous energy. He trailed the others not out of malice, but from a desire for the protection their presence seemed to offer.
"No kingdom in real life," Charles snorted, flicking a pen at me. "So he conquers pixels instead."
James leaned in closer. "Maybe if you used that brain on real stuff, you wouldn't be such a loser."
I hunched over my desk, heat crawling up my neck, wishing I could disappear.
"Enough."
Fiona stepped forward, voice sharp.
She crossed her arms, eyes blazing. "That's his. Back off."
Angelo scoffed. "Relax. Someone's got to babysit him."
"Someone should," Fiona shot back. "Since you clearly can't grow up."
For a moment, the room held its breath—
Then—
DING.
A single bell rang through the classroom.
Not the school bell.
This sound was deeper. Metallic. Resonant. It vibrated in my chest, in my bones.
Every conversation stopped.
A translucent blue screen flickered into existence before me.
Not just me.
Before everyone.
Gasps rippled across the room as identical holographic windows hovered in the air.
Text appeared, stark and impersonal:
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED. PREPARE FOR TRANSFER.
"What… what is this? "Fiona," she whispered, stepping back.
My blood ran cold. "Fiona… this isn't a game UI. I've never seen anything like this."
The floor trembled.
Desks rattled.
A vast magic circle flared to life beneath our feet, spreading swiftly across the classroom floor. Intricate runes, ancient and indecipherable, seared themselves into the tiles, each glowing rhythmically as if driven by the beat of a living heart.
Panic exploded.
"Is this real?!" "Get a teacher!" "What's happening?!"
Fiona grabbed my wrist. "John—stay with me!"
The glow intensified.
Golden text appeared above the circle:
ONLY 700 MILLION WERE SELECTED FROM YOUR WORLD. TRANSFER INITIATED.
The walls shook. Lights flickered violently.
A chill ran through me.
This wasn't entertainment.
This wasn't human.
Bands of glowing energy wrapped around wrists across the room. I felt one lock around mine—cold, heavy, and final.
Students screamed. Others froze. Some collapsed.
Out of our entire class—
Only twelve of us glowed.
"Why us…? " I whispered, my voice breaking.
The circle erupted.
Light surged upward like a supernova. The floor fractured beneath us, reality tearing open.
"John!" "Fiona!" "I cried.
I reached for her—
Angelo stumbled forward in panic, crashing into her. Charles collided with me. Kim grabbed Fiona instinctively to steady himself—and tore her away from my grasp.
"FIONA!" I screamed.
"JOHN! HOLD ON!"
Light swallowed her whole.
The room dissolved. Gravity vanished. My body felt like it was being torn apart, scattered into fragments of light.
The last thing I saw—
Fiona's face. Tearful. Determined. Calling my name.
Then—
Nothing.