Eleanor Whitmore's Perspective
Honestly, Eleanor was starting to realize that the Black Tower was unlike any game she had ever touched in her life.Some players spoke with excitement, as if it were liberating to be able to move their own bodies inside.Many probably even saw it as a dream come true—to fight, to leap, to wield weapons with complete freedom in a virtual world.
Of course, she loved the idea too and had been thrilled about the game's release.
But the moment she noticed that the player's body was a perfect copy of their real body, Eleanor understood things weren't going to be as simple as everyone thought.
Because as a medical student, Eleanor knew the truth: humanity's health and physical performance were nowhere near enough to sustain a real adventure. We were no longer like our ancestors, ready to survive in the wilderness.Most players had never trained a single day to endure prolonged combat. Fatigue, lack of reflexes, the body's natural fragility… all of it would come due, sooner or later.
And from what she had seen, the game was already collecting that debt—and charging dearly.
After all, it was brutally complex and demanding, both physically and mentally.
Yet within that cruelty, there was also a surprise.She had once again chosen her favorite class, as she always did: Healer.
But this time, it wasn't as simple as casting a ready-made spell.Each healing spell required more than concentration—it demanded reasoning.It required understanding the body's mechanisms, the flow of energy, the interaction of tissues, and the impact of magic upon them.Biology, physiology, biophysics—everything was tested with each cast.
Healing felt less like a mystical act and more like a med school exam.
And as exhausting as that was, there was something fascinating about it.
Cassandra, her friend, confirmed that vision with her own peculiar excitement."It's like an experiment," she had said after her first fire spell, her eyes alight. "Every cast is a different equation. Physics has never been this fun."
Cassandra McConnell was a physics student. Always restless, always challenging.And now she seemed even more restless and thrilled inside this new world of the Black Tower.
Hana Takayama, the third member of their little gamer-girl trio, was the complete opposite in energy.Japanese, serious, silent, but with an impressive steadiness. Since school, she had practiced archery, and it showed in the way she handled her bow in-game: flawless posture, controlled breathing, absolute focus.It was as if her body had been molded for that role.
Together, the three of them made for a surprisingly solid party.And up until now, they hadn't faced much trouble at the start of their journey.They had completed missions in sequence, with almost no breaks, and even fatigue had felt bearable thanks to the thrill of novelty.
And there was something else.Something more personal.
After years of gaming together, after countless forum chats, exchanged messages, and even shared photos… this was the first time they were truly side by side.For real.Face to face, skin to skin, body to body.
Eleanor hadn't expected it to feel so different from what she'd imagined.They were even more beautiful in person than in the pictures.There was a new kind of vividness in being here, seeing the real light in her friends' eyes.It was… special.
But everything she thought she understood about the game was put to the test the instant they stepped through the dungeon portal.
Eleanor couldn't help her curiosity.The man who had dragged them into this dungeon was already level 4.
How?
She wondered if there was some trick.A secret strategy to speed up progression.Maybe a loophole, a glitch hidden in the code.But so far, everything about the Black Tower seemed flawless in its design—polished, airtight, impossible to exploit.
Which only made it all the more suspicious.
Her doubts, however, vanished the moment the first horde appeared.
They were goblins.Creatures Eleanor had already faced at the start of her journey.Small, agile, violent.They didn't hesitate to attack—it was as if cowardice itself had been stripped from their essence.
She knew full well how difficult they were for a melee fighter.Their small size made their charges unpredictable.Their strikes were far too fast for ordinary defense.One mistake, and they would carve deep cuts into arms, legs—any exposed spot.
The moment she saw them, Eleanor raised her hands and began preparing a healing spell.If the man in front—Aslan—fell, they would be next.
But what happened after was nothing like what she expected.
The ten goblins lunged at him in unison.The narrow dungeon corridor filled with guttural cries and crude blades.They surrounded him, striking from every possible angle.
And yet—not a single blow met flesh.
Every charge was absorbed by his colossal shield.Every blade was deflected by the swing of his axe.Every apparent opening was nothing but air.
Even the goblins seemed surprised to fail.But they had no time to recover.
The axe came back.And now it gleamed crimson.
With a single spin, bodies were cleaved in half.Each strike fell heavy, dropping two, three goblins at once.The survivors tried to keep fighting, but it was useless.The shield moved with unreal speed, blocking daggers that ricocheted harmlessly.
The massacre lasted only seconds.And when the last body fell, the stone floor of the tunnel was already splattered with green blood.
Eleanor froze.Her lips parted, but no words came.
In that moment, there was no doubt left.
The man before her hadn't found shortcuts.It wasn't a trick, nor a system exploit.
He was the real thing.
And Eleanor couldn't tell if she was looking at a monster… or at a human being.
She couldn't help glancing at her friends, searching for their reactions.
All of them stared wide-eyed, motionless, as if their minds themselves were questioning the reality before them.Hana, usually so steady, seemed to hold her breath, fingers still taut against her bowstring.Cassandra, normally quick with quips or complaints, was silent—her lips parted, as if the words had died in her throat.
It was as if all three of them were asking the same question in unison:"Was what we just saw… even real?"
And then there was the Tank's friend.The calm-faced mage with the almost comical name: Engineer Matteo.
At first, she had thought he was a rookie.
But now she wasn't so sure.
Because while they wrestled with shock and disbelief, he simply watched.He witnessed the slaughter his companion carried out as if it were the most natural scene in the world.No surprise.No hesitation.Just calm eyes, as though this were routine.
Eleanor couldn't help the thought:
If even this doesn't faze him… could it be that he's as strong as that Tank?