Zeke clicked Log Out.
The sensation of his consciousness detaching was peculiar, like rapidly surfacing from the deep sea. The eternal roar of the refinery still echoed faintly in his ears, and the stench of sulfur, metal, and body odor seemed to linger in his nasal cavity.
Then, he opened his eyes.
The familiar gaming chair. The familiar desk. On the monitor was the login screen for Epoch 40k: Mecha, which had already gone completely black.
The afternoon sun outside was glaring, its rays spilling through the gap in the curtains and casting a pillar of light across the floor where dust motes danced lazily.
Zeke sat paralyzed for three seconds, then suddenly raised his hand and pinched his cheek hard.
"Hiss... that hurts."
It wasn't a dream.
He was really back.
From the Warhammer world—where breathing was taxed, whip lashes hurt for real, and the nutrient paste tasted like Papa Nurgle's stew—he had returned to his rental apartment.
"Wait..."
He grabbed his phone off the desk and unlocked the screen.
17:03
5:03 PM.
Zeke's mind buzzed.
He clearly remembered logging into the game around 11:00 PM last night. Inside the game, he had been captured, imprisoned, interrogated, exiled, forced to mine, stolen ore, and planned a rebellion... At least two days and one night had passed.
Even if the in-game time was accelerated, this was absurd.
"Eighteen hours in reality... nearly 60 hours in the game?"
He murmured, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "A time dilation ratio of 1:3.33?! Holy shit, that's a massive win! It's like extending my lifespan!"
Of course, the prerequisite was not dying in the game. Even though resurrection was possible, the pain was absolutely real.
Immediately following that, another thought smashed into his brain: Today is Monday. I was supposed to clock in for work at 9:00 AM.
"Crap, I skipped work!"
Zeke frantically grabbed his phone, found the contact saved as 'Scumbag Boss,' and dialed.
It rang several times before it was picked up, an impatient voice sounding on the other end:
"Hello? Zeke? Where the hell are you today?"
"I'm so so sorry!"
Zeke instantly slipped into character, making his voice sound weak and hoarse. "I got food poisoning last night. I was throwing up and had diarrhea all night. I just got back from the hospital this morning, I didn't even have the energy to look at my phone... I can send you a picture of my medical record..."
"Alright, alright, enough!"
The boss cut him off, his tone still unpleasant. "Your perfect attendance bonus for this month is gone. Next time, ask for leave in advance! If you don't show up tomorrow, don't bother coming back ever!"
"Yes, yes, definitely, thank you!"
Hanging up the phone, Zeke let out a long sigh of relief and wiped away non-existent cold sweat.
Fortunately, he had kept his job for now.
Although internally he was desperately craving to log right back into that world and continue being a miner—Damn, that thought is fucking terrifying—he still needed this job to pay for rent, utilities, and food in reality.
He steadied his nerves, picked up his phone to order some takeout, and then immediately opened the forums, navigating to the Warhammer 40k board.
His fingers tapped rapidly across the screen, creating a post.
Title: [Aru's Lament]
Content: …
Author: Eternally Loyal to the Emperor
That was enough.
Those who knew, would know.
After posting, he exited the forum and opened QQ. Their original 'Terra Underground Cyber Tavern (Non-Heretical)' group chat with twenty-something people had exploded. The unread message count was at 99+.
Zeke clicked in and scrolled quickly.
[Schrödinger's Loyalist]: "I'm back! Brothers, I'm alive! Though my arm still feels like it's hurting..."
[Pay the Tithe Even if the World Ends]: "Fuck fuck fuck! It's only 5 PM in reality! I felt like I spent two days in that game!"
[Fugitive Cogboy of the Mechanicus]: "Time dilation confirmed. Preliminary estimates place the ratio between 1:2.5 and 1:4. This technology... is unbelievable."
[Soul of Cadia]: "Looking at my apartment floor right now brings me so much comfort! At least it won't let an overseer whip me!"
[Did You Ask Yourself If You Were Loyal Today?]: "Did anyone else get whipped? I took a hit! That feeling... my back still feels numb right now!"
[Golden Big Guy]: "I didn't get hit! But I almost got caught by the one-eyed overseer while stealing ore, so I shoved it into my mouth in a panic. I still feel like there's sand stuck in my teeth..."
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]: "So we're confirming this right now: it really is a Warhammer world, right? Not a knock-off?"
[I'm Not the Lord Regent, I'm Just a Passing Guilliman]: "Synthesizing existing evidence: Imperial Coins, Promethium, Psykers, Aru Group, Ximans Trade Consortium, Hive City structure, and the phrase 'In the name of the Emperor'... It's basically confirmed. However, the specific timeline still needs to be verified."
[Slaanesh Champion Candidate]: "I tried discussing the possibility of a grand harmonious union of life with a female NPC. She looked at me like I was trash... The NPC AI in this game is way too realistic!"
[Papa Nurgle Loves Everyone]: "Accept it. In the Warhammer world, bottom-tier consumables like us don't deserve love. We only deserve whips and nutrient paste."
[Don't Ask, I Finks It Works]: "I finks we can't just mine forever! We gotta do something big!"
[The Emperor's Sword]: "@Eternally Loyal to the Emperor Zeke! Is the group chat set up? Invite me in!"
Zeke typed rapidly: "Give me a second. I'm setting up a main group chat and I'll invite everyone in."
He backed out of the small group chat and created a new one in QQ. Without hesitation, he named it: [Aru First-Gen Workers Union].
Once created, he pulled all twenty-something acquaintances from the small chat into the new one. Then, he posted the group number and invite link in the forum thread, adding a comment: "Everyone, send me a DM here on the forum and I'll invite you into the main group. Let's talk in the main group."
For the next two hours, Zeke's life consisted of: eating takeout, staring at his phone, opening forum DMs, copying QQ numbers, searching, sending group invites, and moving on to the next DM.
His inbox exploded.
[Warhammer 40k is the Best in the World] sent contact info.
[Blast Chaos For the Emperor] sent contact info.
[Fugitive Magos of the Martian Mechanicus] sent contact info.
[Khorne Granted Me an Eight-Pack] sent contact info.
[Tzeentch Handed Me This Exam Paper] sent contact info.
[Slaanesh Said She's Waiting for Me Tonight] sent contact info.
[Nurgle Complimented My Physique] sent contact info.
[T'au-Kun, You're Right] sent contact info.
...
Zeke's eye twitched as he read them. These guys' IDs get more arrogant by the minute. If they're really in the Warhammer world, they'll die faster than you can blink.
Group applications poured in endlessly.
Soon, the 200-person capacity was full.
Zeke had to bite the bullet and spend 1,000 credits—equivalent to half his monthly rent—to upgrade the group capacity to 10,000 members.
His heart bled the moment he paid the money. But when he thought about the dozens of players who were dragged off and died miserable deaths in those experiments...
When he thought about the power-whip that could strike at any moment, and that atrociously disgusting nutrient paste... This money had to be spent!
Five hours later, at 10:00 PM.
[Aru First-Gen Workers Union] Member Count: 4,961.
Almost every player who logged in at Workshop 7 had joined.
There were also a few who claimed they had resurrected elsewhere. The locations they described varied widely, but they were all on Aurelian IV. After verifying their claims, Zeke pulled them in too. These scattered players could serve as outside reinforcements in the future.
Zeke updated the Group Announcement:
[Group Announcement]
1. This is the player organization for Epoch 40k: Mecha.
2. In-game time dilation is approximately 1:3.33 compared to reality. Please adjust your sleep schedules accordingly.
3. Current Main Quest: Work as miners at Aru Refinery No. 3, steal ore, save money, and prepare to start a riot.
4. In-Game Watch System: Real-world time 7:00 PM - 8:00 PM and 2:00 AM - 3:00 AM correspond to in-game rest periods. Two players must remain online to keep watch on a rotating basis.
5. Group files are currently being compiled with in-game intel. Submissions welcome.
6. For the Emperor (Tentative)!
The moment the announcement went live, the group chat exploded.
[Fugitive Cogboy of the Mechanicus]: "The word 'Tentative' captures the absolute essence of this. Until we confirm His Majesty's current status, we must maintain cautious loyalty."
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]: "If this is 30k and the Emperor is still out leading the Great Crusade with the Primarchs, then yelling 'For the Emperor' is fine. But if it's 40k... the Emperor is sitting on the Golden Throne. He wouldn't even hear us if we yelled, right?"
[Soul of Cadia]: "You still have to yell it in 40k! It's about faith! Do you understand faith?! Even if faith can't put food on the table, it at least lets us die with some ceremonial flair!"
[Dog of the Third Primarch]: "Right now, I just want to know where the hell this Aurelian IV is located in the galaxy. I scoured the Warhammer star maps, lore books, and even fanfic wikis, and I can't find this planet anywhere."
[I'm Not the Lord Regent, I'm Just a Passing Guilliman]: "A few possibilities: First, it's a lore planet Games Workshop hasn't written about yet. Second, it's a frontier world in the Eastern Fringe with sparse records. Third, we actually transmigrated into a fanfic universe."
[Don't Ask, I Finks It Works]: "A fanfic universe? Then who's the author? Does he update frequently? Is he gonna drop the story halfway through?"
--
Next Goal = 250 Powerstones.