Everyone knelt down in admiration.
These bug-sized martyrs—true masters of dramatic death—had just given Oscar-worthy performances.
"We all went through the same nine years of school," one player muttered. "So why are they so good at dying?"
"They must've studied method acting in secret!"
Meanwhile, one of the "fallen warriors" logged off, trembling and drenched in sweat. After recovering from his death spasms, he stumbled into the forum.
"This might sound insane," he wrote, "but I almost died. Literally. This game is too real. The pain was unreal. I never want to die like that again."
"Bro, are you some kind of masochist?" someone replied. "Didn't you turn down the pain setting? You can do that, right?"
"I did! I swear! I think it's a bug!"
That kicked off the first ever bug report in the forum's history.
As more players who had experienced death came online, their stories began to pile up.
"Wait. You too?"
"And me. I turned the pain off. Still died screaming."
Eventually, they came to a terrifying consensus:
Every time someone dies to the giant boss, their pain setting is forcefully overridden. It gets set to 50%.
The chat went dead silent.
Then—
"This dev is a psycho."
"This game is inhumanly hardcore."
Someone hesitantly typed: "Maybe… it's an intentional mechanic? Like, a death penalty?"
It made twisted sense. Other MMOs had durability loss, respawn timers, EXP drops. But this game? No hand-holding. No reloading. If you died, you got wrecked.
"You feel death."
"This game's realism is scary."
Word spread like wildfire.
"We need to warn everyone inside!"
"Too late. There's no in-game chat. No way to message them from outside."
"Then they'll have to experience it... just like we did."
A heavy silence fell.
The first day of the second beta wasn't going to be a festival of fun. It was shaping up to be a mass funeral. Every player, old and new, would likely get wiped—and left twitching from pain.
---
In the courtyard…
Ethan reclined in his wooden chair, lunchbox in hand. He usually didn't concern himself too much with the little sandbox weirdos—but today? Swatting bugs while eating lunch had never been so… entertaining.
Slap! Slap! SPLAT!
The screams of dying insects rang out like war drums.
"Watch me!" came a tiny shout from below. "This time, I'll be the real tough guy!"
SLAP!
"AAAAHHHHH!!!"
Ethan chuckled. To him, this was just another summer day on the farm. After all, what country life didn't include squashing bugs while enjoying a good meal?
At that exact moment, hidden within the steaming white sea of rice, the Pallbearer Chicken—Akinas Speedster's pride and joy—slithered into position.
"Hehehe… I've finally made it," Akina whispered with maniacal glee. "After the sacrifice of dozens of comrades… I've reached the Core!"
He and his flock of crimson-feathered avians burrowed deeper into the lunchbox.
The bugs hiding in the chair gaps gasped.
"He's in!"
"We did it!"
"After all the blood, sweat, and screams… we're finally at the cusp of victory!"
They nearly wept. For real this time.
They had sacrificed themselves so gloriously—their fake death howls so genuine—it moved everyone watching.
Some even held a moment of silence.
---
Up above, Ethan paused.
"So… you finally made it into my lunch, huh?"
He didn't react much. He simply smiled, lifted the lunchbox, and resumed eating.
Chomp.
The bug-sized spectators screamed internally.
"Yes! YES! He's eating! We're gonna kill the boss with POISON!"
Another bite.
"Almost there…"
A third bite.
Then—he stopped.
Ethan furrowed his brow. "Hmm. My arm's been bitten too much today. My food's gone cold."
He stood up and calmly walked toward the house.
"I'll heat this up first."
---
Every player froze.
"..."
"Wait… what?!"
"You're heating up your food?!?"
"WHO CARES if it's a little cold?! You're eating lunch, not prepping for a five-star dinner!"
"I KNEW IT! This boss is way too realistic. He's not just hard… he's petty!"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S GONNA COOK US!!"
Ethan shrugged. "I mean, it's just raw chicken-flavored bugs. Not the weirdest thing I've eaten."
The Hive Mind responded in its monotone voice: "Toxin remains stable post-cooking. The subject retains lethal potential."
"Perfect," Ethan smiled. "I've got stomach cancer. Can't be too careful."
---
Inside the oven…
Akinas Speedster huddled inside the rice, trembling. "Okay… okay, I've turned my pain sense to zero. It's fine. I'm a corpse. I'm a crisp. I'm—"
BANG!
The oven door slammed shut.
Whoosh!!!
Fire roared around him.
The Pallbearer Chicken began to roast.
"…I'm… fine…" he whispered. "I'm… not in pain… I—"
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
His shriek echoed through the lunchbox like the cry of a phoenix in flames.
"I WAS WRONG!!! IT HURTS! IT REALLY HURTS!"
His feathers curled. His eyes watered. His mind began to fray.
It was hell.
Steam and sweat poured off him as the rice around him began to bubble. He was being slow-roasted alive.
Outside, Ethan sat by the oven, flipping through a book on advanced magical theory, sipping tea.
He hummed. "This is nice. A quiet evening. Some food. A songbird in the oven."
The Hive Mind suddenly spoke again. Its mechanical voice trembled, ever so slightly.
"The first Tyranis Hero has been born."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"…What?"
A silence passed.
Then—from deep inside the oven—a resonant cry rang out.
Not a scream.
A phoenix song.
A sound that shook the air, like molten gold flowing through burning winds. Ethereal. Majestic. Terrifying.
"…He's still alive?" Ethan muttered, eyes widening.
"Could it be… evolution through torment?"
Mystic energy stirred around the oven as if the laws of the world were bending. A new kind of miracle was about to be born.
A player, broken and blistered, had gone beyond the edge of agony… and stepped into the realm of legends.
The Pallbearer Chicken was no longer just a suicidal prank.
He was a myth.