"I'll make it as weird as I want," she purred. "Love you, was it? Bold. Should I give you a 'Love Potion' recipe next? Though with the pink kitten behind you, she already seems bewitched. You're a brute, Liam. She looks at you like you're the sun."
She's a warrior, Liam thought firmly, the tension in his jaw betraying his determination to keep feelings out of it. He cut the goddess off, clinging to that line between leadership and intimacy. She needs a leader, not a boyfriend. We're in a death game, not a dating sim.
"Whatever helps you sleep in that big, single bed of yours," Hestia laughed, her presence fading into a warm hum.
"Liam? You okay? You've been standing there staring at a mushroom for two minutes," Ellie asked, walking up behind him. Concern flickered in her voice, quickly masked by playful teasing as she reached out to poke his shoulder, her fingers lingering just a second too long on the cool platinum plate.
"I'm fine," Liam said, turning. "Just... checking the soil, for root vegetables."
"You're so full of it," Ellie laughed, though her eyes softened with a warmth she tried to hide. She hated how much she liked his bluntness—a thrill she felt in her chest. Most guys before the game tried to be 'alpha' or were too soft. Liam was just Liam, a force who knew how to sear a scallop. "So, where to next, 'Master of the Soil'?"
"We move deeper," Liam said, sheathing his sword. "The rabbits in the southern sector have a rare drop called 'Lucky Foot Luck.' If I can process that into a broth, our drop rates for the rest of the week will skyrocket. If we're lucky, we can find a Hidden Boss before..."
Liam froze.
His [Sonic Step] wasn't active, but his passive senses, sharpened by his high level and his time with the Hearth—picked up a disturbance. It wasn't the clumsy scuttle of a squirrel or the slither of a snake.
It was the sound of steel hitting steel. And the scent of high-tier mana.
"Someone's fighting," Ellie whispered, her ears swivelling toward the west. "Big spells. Those aren't starter players."
"Finally," Liam said, his eyes turning cold. "Something that isn't a squirrel."
They moved through the brush, Liam's heavy armour making surprisingly little noise thanks to the [Weightless Forge] perk. They pushed through a thicket of thorns—which Liam ignored, the thorns snapping against his platinum shins and came out onto a ridge overlooking a hidden grove.
Below them, the peaceful scenery was being torn to shreds.
The Shadow-Stalker Alpha unleashed a guttural howl, its violet eyes fixed on the short kid in the leather vest. Rogue was quick, but stumbled over a twisted root, revealing a lack of agility. Mirra shouted something unintelligible, frustration clear in her voice, reminiscent of a mother exasperated by a chaotic kitchen.
"Move your ass, Rogue! I'm out of mana potions, and my back is killing me!"
"I'm trying, MILF! This thing cheats!" Rogue yelled, slinging a dagger that bounced off the wolf's fur.
Liam didn't jump down immediately. He stood on the ridge, his black platinum armour drinking in the sunlight. Beside him, Elizabeth—the pink cat warrior—gripped her rapier, her ears swivelling.
"Wait," Ellie whispered, squinting through the brush. "The short one... the way he trips and then blames the game engine. And the woman who looks like she's about to ask to speak to the forest's manager... Liam, is that Rogue and Mirra?"
Liam sighed. Seventy-two hours ago—before the "Death Game" toggle was flipped and everyone was reverted to their physical bodies—they had quested together for exactly one day. It was supposed to be a quick trial run for a new party. Back then, Rogue had been a six-foot-tall brooding edgelord with a cape made of raven feathers. Mirra had been a nineteen-year-old elven princess with a voice like silk.
Liam himself? For that one day of questing, he had been a two-foot-tall, fluff-ball wolf girl named "Little Liam" He'd told them it was a "tactical hitbox choice" for a high-mobility chef, but mostly he just liked the irony.
"It's them," Liam grunted. "The 'immersion' is a real bitch."
He stepped off the ledge. He didn't use a ladder. He just let the weight of his [Vanguard Platinum] plates accelerate him. He hit the ground like a meteor, the impact cratering the grass and sending a shockwave that staggered the Shadow-Stalker.
He didn't draw his sword. He just walked up to the monster, his [Vulcan Gauntlet] beginning to hum with white-hot intensity. He caught the massive wolf by the throat. With a surge of strength that made the ground beneath his boots crack, he slammed the Level 22 Elite into the dirt and triggered [Absorption]. The wolf didn't just die; after he of course bit into it, it was pulled into the furnace of his chest.
Silence fell over the grove.
Rogue, the twenty-year-old Korean kid who barely hit 5'6" in real life, stared up at the mountain of black steel and silver hair, a mixture of awe and fear frozen on his face. Mirra, a woman in her early 40s who looked like she'd just come from a PTA meeting, clutched her staff tightly and backed away, anxiety etched into her features.y.
"Whoa!" Rogue shouted, daggers up. "Look, Big Guy, no trouble. Take the loot—just don't eat us!"
Mirra squinted at Liam, then at Ellie, who had just skidded down the ridge, her eyes wide with disbelief and curiosity. "Ellie? Is that you? You... you actually look like your avatar. Except for the armour. How did you get that?"
Ellie nodded, pointing a thumb at the titan next to her. "Yeah, it's me. And this is—"
"Wait," Rogue interrupted, walking in a circle around Liam, his head tilted back to look up at Liam's face. "The silver hair... the red eyes... and that specific 'I'm-surrounded-by-idiots' expression..."
Rogue's jaw dropped.
"No way," Rogue whispered. "The Little Kid? The two-foot-tall dog girl from Monday? This... this is you? Are you a dude? And you're... huge?"
[Tool Tip: The "NPC" Reality]
Status: While players refer to them as "NPCs" for convenience, the inhabitants of Aeros are sentient, living beings. They have memories, families, and complex emotional lives.
Beast-kin Biology: The residents are largely Beast-kin (like the blacksmith Bronn or the pink cat warrior Ellie). Their animalistic traits (ears, tails) are highly sensitive and tied to their nervous systems. Touching a Beast-kin's ears is considered either an act of extreme intimacy or a declaration of war.