2 minutes.
That was all he had left before the world he knew would slip away, before the unknown swallowed him whole. His fingers trembled, balled tight at his sides. The stale air seemed to press in, thicker with every second that vanished.
He didn't know if he would ever return. He didn't know if he could survive wherever he was being sent. The only certainty was that, in the next two minutes, everything would change.
It all began just two weeks before, when the ordinary fabric of reality began to fray.
The game—"Myth of Dungeons"—had finally been conquered, after years of relentless trials. When the screen displayed that long-sought message of completion, relief had barely begun to seep in when the world itself shifted.
The sky tore open, unveiling a colossal blue eye that dwarfed clouds and sun alike. It blazed against the sky with an otherworldly stare, and humanity's minds were suddenly invaded by an omnipotent voice.
[The tutorial has been completed. You will be transported to Euloria in 6 months.]
But Aelion was different.
Two messages echoed within the depths of his thoughts.
[As the Champion of your world, you need to stand before the others.]
[You will be transported in 2 weeks.]
It was written, clear as day—he was "the Champion." The player who completed the tutorial was none other than Aelion Velthane.
And now, with only moments left, the title felt both a curse and a calling.
1 minute.
The numbers on the timer ticked down, relentless.
His determination hardened as his fate approached.
His resolve wasn't for himself alone—it was for his sister too.
He stepped quietly to her room, his breath shaky but purposeful.
She lay curled under the faded quilt, hope and worry flickering in her tired eyes.
He sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand in his. The contact grounded him, slowing the storm within his chest.
He watched as 30 seconds flickered on the timer.
He stood, intending to leave the room with quiet grace, but her hand gripped tighter.
She looked up, tears shimmering. "Are you... going to leave me too?"
The silence nearly consumed him before he answered, every word laced with trembling determination. "I promise that I will come back."
The timer hurtled toward zero—10...9...8...
Tears streamed down Celastine's face, each a mirror of the ache in his chest.
He stood with quiet strength, making a silent vow that no force could break. He had to come back.
There were still those who'd hurt him, who roamed free.
There were grudges still raw—wrongs that he was not yet done putting right. There were debts, there was vengeance, and there was something more.
There was her.
A face flickered in his vision, haunting and gentle. Someone he longed to see again.
A golden light spilled over him, warmth and power wrapping around his form as his body began to dissolve into motes of shimmering energy.
All he left behind was his vow, ringing clear and strong.
"I promise to come back."