Player Chapter 1. Kidnapped
"What is going on?" he muttered, looking around in confusion.
The stadium was frozen.
Not metaphorically frozen. Not emotionally frozen. Not "the crowd is stunned into silence" frozen.
No.
Actually frozen.
The confetti that had exploded seconds ago was hanging in the air like colorful snow caught mid-fall. The massive screens behind him still displayed his victory screen. His nickname, AZRIEL, glowed across the arena in bright gold letters.
And the crowd?
Every single person was stuck in place.
Thousands of them.
Cheering faces frozen. Hands mid-clap. A guy in the front row with nachos had one chip halfway to his mouth like the universe paused him during a snack.
Riven slowly turned his head left.
"…Okay."
He turned right.
"…This is weird."
A beat.
Then he lifted his hand and waved it in front of his face.
Still moving.
Still breathing.
Still very much not frozen.
"Right," he said calmly. "So everyone else is paused and I'm the only one who can move."
He looked down at himself.
His e-sport jacket rustled softly as he shifted.
Across the back was his nickname in large embroidered letters.
AZRIEL
Six-time solo tournament champion.
He had literally just won the finals five seconds ago.
The announcer had been shouting something dramatic about "a new era of esports dominance."
And then…
Time broke.
Riven slowly turned his head toward the VIP section.
There they were.
His parents.
His father leaned forward in his seat with that smug half-smile he always had when his son dominated a match.
His mother mid-cheer with a hand raised and eyes sparkling.
Both of them frozen like statues.
Riven squinted.
"Dad," he said, pointing at him thoughtfully, "if this is some weird new immersive VR test you didn't warn me about, I'm going to be extremely annoyed."
No response.
Naturally.
They were frozen.
He shifted his gaze to another familiar face.
Across the stage.
Adrian Cross.
Riven's long-time rival.
The man stood stiff near the player exit tunnel, jaw tight, eyes burning with the fury of someone who had just lost his fifth final match in a row.
Even frozen, Adrian still looked pissed.
He tilted his head. "Five losses in a row would upset me too."
Then his eyes drifted toward the backstage corridor.
And paused.
"…Oh."
Peeking from behind a curtain.
Half-hidden.
Watching the stage.
Grace Carter.
Riven's stalker.
Technically not officially a stalker.
But definitely a stalker.
Her body was frozen mid-lean, one hand gripping the curtain while she peered toward him like a curious cat.
Riven sighed. "Of course you're here." He rubbed his temple. "Final match. International broadcast. And the golden heiress is backstage spying on me again."
He folded his arms. "Grace, you really need a hobby."
No answer.
Because she too was frozen.
Riven looked back at the stadium.
The floating confetti.
The frozen crowd.
The suspended lights.
And then…
"Riven."
The voice echoed through the stadium.
Clear.
Female.
Riven blinked.
He slowly turned around.
The moment he did…
The world vanished.
No explosion.
No dramatic light.
The entire stadium simply disappeared like someone closed a game window.
One moment he was standing on a championship stage.
The next…
He was standing inside a massive chamber.
Riven looked up.
"…Oh."
The ceiling wasn't a ceiling.
It was a galaxy.
Stars drifted across the sky like glowing dust. Nebula clouds swirled slowly overhead in deep blues and purples.
The floor beneath his feet was smooth crystal.
The chamber was enormous.
Endless.
Silent.
Riven lifted his hand.
He flexed his fingers.
The movement felt…
Familiar.
The strange responsiveness.
Like controlling a character.
"...Huh."
He moved his hand again.
"Okay."
He tested a step forward.
Rather than a real body, this was the feeling when he controlled his VR avatar.
His eyebrow twitched.
"That's interesting."
He slowly scanned the chamber.
And then he saw her.
At the far end of the chamber stood a throne made of white light.
And sitting upon it…
A woman.
No.
Not just a woman.
She looked like something straight out of myth.
Long silver hair.
Eyes glowing softly like distant stars.
A calm, regal presence that made the entire chamber feel like it belonged to her.
Riven stared for a few seconds.
"Alright." He took a step forward. "This looks like the beginning of one of those reincarnation novels my mom keeps reading."
The woman smiled faintly. "Riven Goldborne." Her voice echoed through the chamber. "Welcome to my domain."
Riven stopped about ten meters from the throne.
He studied her carefully.
Then nodded.
"Yeah. That confirms it." He folded his arms. "You're a goddess."
The woman tilted her head slightly. "Correct." She leaned slightly forward. "My name is Astraea. The goddess who oversees regrets… and grants second chances."
Riven stared at her.
Then slowly rubbed his chin.
"Alright." He pointed at her. "Before anything else. I have a question."
Astraea smiled politely. "Of course."
Riven tilted his head. "Did I die?"
She blinked. "…What?"
"You know." He gestured casually. "A healthy twenty-three year old suddenly gets teleported to a cosmic goddess chamber." He shrugged. "That usually means a truck ran me over. But I was on the stage. There was no truck."
Astraea quickly shook her head. "No. You are not dead."
Riven blinked. "Oh."
She continued. "I simply borrowed you from your world temporarily."
Riven stared at her. "Borrowed?"
"Yes."
"…So." He pointed at her. "You kidnapped me."
The goddess froze. "…That is not—"
"You kidnapped me."
She sighed softly. "…Technically."
Riven nodded thoughtfully. "Okay." He looked around the galaxy chamber again. "Then let's skip to the important question." He looked back at her. "What do you want?"
Astraea sat upright. "I have a task for you."
Riven raised an eyebrow. "A task?"
"Yes."
"You will transmigrate into various game worlds. Many of those worlds are broken. Their storylines collapsed. Their characters trapped in endless conflicts. You will repair them."
Riven listened silently.
Then he slowly crossed his arms.
"So… you called me here. To give me… a job?"
Astraea smiled proudly. "Yes."