SpacesSnips

It was originally a game, made to be as realistic as possible with features to match. But as time passed and the game progressed there was no doubt about it. The game encroached upon reality. Not in the traditional sense, that the same monsters and people we had come to know so intimately started to appear in reality. But blank spaces that swallowed the country... the continent. And any that attempted to even reach a finger within those blank spaces of reality were consumed alongside it. 
I had thought myself average, that I could make some money with this game. Sanctuary. But there was a problem - a boon - whenever I gained a skill, it became max level. There was no exception. So, when the world started to fall apart, and my prowess revealed… They hailed me a hero. Despite the wrongdoings and plundering I had done in the name of wealth and power, they looked to me. To solve their problems and save the world. But could I do it? Demons and beings of absolute power. Such that even my cheat made it only marginally easier. 
I had no choice. It was either I fought and won, or I cowered and let the world be consumed by the cold devouring void. 
And so, I fight; from a beginning filled with greed, to a future filled with the hopes and wishes of mankind. Can I do it?
"Heh~"
Of course I can.

My Skills Are All Max-Level

Some sensation… a breath whose breadth I was unable to grasp… a breath whose very parting brought a sudden lurched awareness. My head lulled against the taut hide of the wooden cabin.

Eyes bulged open with blatant madness… mixed with a tinge of ambition.

The cabin was made by the innumerable efforts of men and women. Their bodies obeyed the means and methods of mine orders. Innumerable tyranny was enacted upon their minds, so that not even one would rise up.

Bloodied fingers scratched at the surface. A seemingly endless wake of waves whose tide rose and fell between blatant madness. A mind taken over by forces unknown to even the…

Their labor was swift and expedient. A force whose arms tired with less frequency, whose thoughts complained only in the privacy of their own minds.

Interlude - 3.00