"Body data scan complete. Consciousness uploading…"
An emotionless, synthetic female voice echoed directly into his mind through the FullDive headset. The hyper-realistic audio rendered every syllable with chilling precision—the hallmark of YGGDRASIL's immersive virtual reality.
As the progress bar hit 100%, a familiar chime sounded.
"Player Siegfried Herasvarg, welcome back to the world of YGGDRASIL! Have a pleasant gaming session."
The AI's presence faded, replaced by a ten-second countdown hovering at the edge of his vision. Around him, the wind howled across a desolate landscape beneath a sky choked by eternal black clouds.
This was Helheim—the frozen, starless realm where the Great Tomb of Nazarick stood in silent dominion. Once the stronghold of the legendary guild Ainz Ooal Gown, it now lay abandoned… or so it seemed.
In truth, Nazarick had never been truly empty. Even after the guild's decline, thrill-seeking raiders occasionally dared to storm its depths, mistaking legend for vulnerability. The largest such incursion had drawn over a thousand players. It ended, as all others did, in total annihilation—another testament to Nazarick's invincibility.
Sieg's thoughts drifted back three years, to brighter days…
(Flashback begins)
The Round Table Chamber buzzed with energy. Guild members filled their ornate seats, their avatars a kaleidoscope of races and classes. At the center of the commotion, two figures stood locked in debate.
"Ulbert! We agreed—Flame Lord Surut comes first!" Touchmy, clad in gleaming silver plate armor, slammed a gauntleted fist on the table. "This was settled days ago!"
Ulbert Alain Odle lounged in his seat, arms crossed behind his head, his demonic grin ever-present. "Ah, but without slaying the Frost Wyrm, half the guild can't unlock their advanced class paths. Efficiency isn't caprice, Touchmy—it's strategy."
"Strategy? You just want to fight dragons again!"
A collective Siegh rippled through the room. Here we go again.
Such arguments were routine. In any other game, their faces might've twisted in frustration—but YGGDRASIL, despite its technological marvels, couldn't render dynamic facial expressions tied to emotion. Even the most advanced DMMO-RPG had its limits.
And yet, YGGDRASIL remained unmatched. Upon launch, its vast open world, hundred-plus playable races, and unprecedented freedom drew millions. Races fell into three broad categories:
Humans: No racial class, but maximum flexibility and growth potential.
Heteromorphs (Demi-humans): Balanced stats and versatile talents.
Aliens (True Non-Humans): Massive stat bonuses and unique racial abilities—but crippling weaknesses, like Undead vulnerability to holy damage.
Worse, certain elite classes required players to hunt Alien-type characters as part of their progression. This led to widespread harassment, driving many Alien players from the game. Most survivors retreated to the three Alien-favored worlds—Helheim, Cocytus, and Niflheim.
Ainz Ooal Gown had been founded precisely because of this injustice. Their guild charter explicitly welcomed only Heteromorph and Alien players—a sanctuary for the marginalized. But that… was another story.
"Alright, alright," came a calm, resonant voice. "Let's keep it civil, everyone~"
Momonga—soon to rename himself Ainz Ooal Gown—sat at the head of the table, both exasperated and quietly delighted. He cherished these moments of camaraderie, even if they bordered on chaos.
Ding!
A soft violet glow materialized near the entrance. From within stepped a figure cloaked in shifting shadows, race and form indiscernible. Only those bearing a Guild Ring could teleport freely within Nazarick—and these rings were non-droppable, non-tradeable. This was no intruder.
"Yo, Sieg! Long time no see!" chirped Peroroncino, his golden avian form shimmering with radiant light.
"Long time no see, Peroroncino," Sieg replied. Above the Round Table, the name Siegfried Herasvarg flared to life on the guild roster.
"You've been offline forever, Siegsang," Ainz said, genuine concern in his voice. "Touchmy mentioned you've been swamped?"
"Yeah. New job. Barely have time to log in."
(In truth, he'd been scraping by, too broke to afford even basic in-game purchases—though he'd never admit that.)
Ainz, himself an office worker, nodded in understanding. "Take care of yourself. Rest when you can."
Sieg typed a smiley emoticon. Over voice chat, he chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, Guild Master. I'll be here until the very end. Living long enough to see YGGDRASIL shut down? That'd be a perfect life."
No one took him seriously. Not even Ainz—who loved this world more than anyone—believed the servers would actually close.
"I hope that day never comes," Ainz murmured.
"You're too kind," Sieg replied, his tone teasing but eyes distant.
Ulbert finally noticed him. "Sieg! You're online! Perfect timing!" His laughter crackled like burning parchment. "We're stuck debating: Frost Wyrm or Flame Lord Surut?"
"And you're pushing for the dragon again," Sieg Sieghed.
"Of course! With your Dragon Knight build, we'd shred it in minutes!"
Sieg couldn't stay mad. Despite his long absences, Ulbert had always been there—messaging daily, saving loot for him, even helping pick his current name. They'd only known each other in-game, yet their bond felt older than blood.
Still, Touchmy was his real-life friend. Choosing sides was impossible.
Thankfully, both knew when to yield.
Touchmy crossed his arms but offered a small nod. "Fine. Since Sieg's here… let's hear it. Dragon first?"
Hero, ever the mediator, added weakly, "Siegurd's got that anti-dragon aura buff. It'd be wasted on Surut."
Murmurs of agreement followed. No one opposed—not even Touchmy.
After all, if Touchmy was their strongest frontline fighter, and Ulbert their apex spellcaster, then Siegurd—Sieg's true in-game identity—was their dragon-slaying specialist. His Dragon Knight class granted massive damage bonuses against draconic foes, along with unique skills like Dragonhide Armor and Wyrmrend Strike. Rare, powerful, and utterly thematic.
Though he played casually, Siegurd ranked solidly among Ainz Ooal Gown's upper tier. His hybrid build could tank, deal burst damage, and even unleash limited AoE magic—enough to challenge Touchmy in sparring matches.
In the end? They slew the Frost Wyrm, claimed their class upgrades, then turned and crushed Flame Lord Surut for good measure. Laughter echoed through Nazarick that night—warm, unguarded, full of joy.
Sieg smiled faintly at the memory.
But that was three years ago.
One by one, his friends logged off for the last time. The developers tried everything—events, discounts, new zones—but player numbers kept falling. YGGDRASIL, once the pinnacle of virtual worlds, was dying.
And now…
The countdown reached zero.
Silence.
Sieg exhaled, watching the black clouds swirl above Nazarick's towers.
"So… it really is over."