Chapter 02: Loading Into Oblivion

Under a luminous, otherworldly glow, the black moon spun slowly on its axis—its radiant, alabaster light slicing through the obsidian sky like a celestial eclipse.

The scene before him felt as if it were set on a flimsy cardboard stage, complete with a towering, paper-thin mansion sprawled on the ground.

At the mansion's center, a broad dome jutted out a few meters on each side. An uncanny stillness reigned; not a whisper of wind stirred the air, as though this delicate edifice existed within an impenetrable vacuum.

Yet, the surreal tableau was eclipsed by an even more startling sight: a vast throng of people assembled on a jet-black floor, all arranged in a meticulous, unbroken line stretching before the mansion. Their faces were etched with worry and dread, a tapestry of grim expressions under the spectral light.

In the midst of this silent mass, Riven stood with his head bowed, his eyes distant and perplexed. 

'Why is it here?' he wondered.

Just moments before, he'd been outside his dilapidated building, cradling his cherished PC, when the earth convulsed beneath him.

An earthquake of unprecedented ferocity sent structures tumbling, while anguished screams mingled with the roar of collapsing buildings. Underground gas pipelines and bursting sewage lines unleashed torrents of flame and filth, fueling chaos as panic spread like wildfire.

In the ensuing mayhem, countless lives were shattered—some lost forever, others scarred by tragedy—yet one sinister force loomed above it all:

Gargantuan, obsidian towers that had burst from the earth, thrusting skyward like dark monuments. Swirling clouds gathered around them, and cryptic inscriptions danced along their surfaces, refracting sunlight into eerie mirages.

Fearing the unknown, masses fled to secret government bunkers buried beneath the city's ruins. But Riven remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on a colossal tower that rose beyond the devastation.

As the trembling subsided and an unsettling silence settled over the land, one thought echoed in his mind: 

'Why does it look familiar?'

In the blink of an eye, reality shifted.

One moment, Riven was frozen—clutching his PC as the city disintegrated around him; the next, he found himself inexplicably standing within an endless queue, hemmed in by strangers whose faces bore equal parts terror and resignation.

At first, panic reigned.

People tried to speak to one another, but their voices were stifled, swallowed by an unseen force. Attempts to move closer to their neighbors were thwarted by an invisible barrier that limited them to mere inches.

Desperation mounted; some pounded the unseen wall like frantic maniacs, while others tried in vain to force a way through.

Riven, however, maintained a disconcerting calm. The familiar motifs—the black moon, the fragile paper mansion, the interminable line, and most ominously, the dark tower looming outside—aligned in his mind like pieces of a puzzle. 

'I'm standing in the queue for *The Tower of Supreme Reign*', he realized.

He had witnessed this very scene countless times as a loading screen while waiting to dive into the game. But now, he wasn't outside the game—he was within it.

As his eyes swept across the crowd, he noticed that nearly half of the assembled souls remained unnervingly composed, some even seated on the ground with detached calm.

A few, however, wore eager grins and carried an unsettling air of anticipation. Even more alarming, a scattering of individuals clutched crude weapons—baseball bats, hammers, anything they could brandish for protection.

It was clear, unmistakably so, that they, like him, had come to a stark realization:

They were inside the game

Riven's attention drifted to a peculiar figure on his right—a teenager with a plastic-looking katana strapped at his waist. The sword was a clear imitation. The weapon's dull edges and shoddy craftsmanship elicited a mirthful chuckle from Riven, though the sight filled him with a pang of regret. 

'I should have been armed when I first saw that tower,' he chided himself silently. 

Now, his only hope was that this twisted reality would not be as punishing as the game he once knew.

Determined, he began to formulate a plan for survival.

Minutes passed in a tense, heart-pounding stillness until suddenly, startled gasps and shrieks erupted from within the invisible confines.

One by one, the figures at the front of the line evaporated—vanishing into the unknown, their terror etched in wide, unseeing eyes.

In response, Riven smacked his cheek lightly, clenched his fists, and braced himself for what might come next.

Then, without warning, a subtle force swept over him, and he too was plucked from his spot, swallowed by the void.

***

Murmurs and anxious whispers gradually stirred him from his daze.

Riven blinked, only to find himself in a cramped passageway flanked by ten other people.

The narrow corridor was shrouded in darkness, its sturdy, brown walls closing in on three sides, while a gentle but insistent current of air nudged them forward, as if urging them along, yet none dared to move, paralyzed by the fear of the unknown.

Uneasy whispers swirled through the air, fear festering amid the silence.

Then—clap, clap.

Abruptly, a pair of hands clapped, snapping everyone to attention. A cheerful voice rang out. 

"May I have your kind attention, please?" 

Riven turned to see the same teenager—now transformed—standing confidently before the group.

Dressed in a red and black tracksuit with pristine running shoes, his black hair was impeccably styled, and his blue eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of mischief and command. Despite the charismatic grin he wore, Riven's gut churned with unease.

Instinctively, Riven shifted to the back of the group, his eyes narrowing as he mentally reviewed the survival plan he'd meticulously crafted while queued for the tutorial.

"May I have your kind attention, please?"

The teen repeated, waving his arms with theatrical flair before adding with a sly chuckle,

"Saying that over and over makes me appreciate the struggles of flight attendants!"

His remark carried an effortless charm, coaxing drew a few nervous chuckles, momentarily lightening the oppressive mood.

Flashing a wide, congenial smile, he introduced himself,

"I'm Roy. Let's get acquainted—we're going to need all the help we can get!"

'That bastard,'

Riven seethed inwardly.

Roy's effortless charisma had unraveled Riven's carefully laid plan. He had intended to exploit the chaos for a solitary path through the tutorial.

Now Riven realized that Roy intended to unify them into a single, cooperative unit—an outcome Riven dreaded, given that he was never good at getting along with others.

Before Riven could ponder further, a portly, middle-aged man in a rumpled brown suit stepped forward.

His bald head gleamed with sweat under the dim light, and his expensive watch caught every stray beam as he bellowed, 

"Hey, you little brat! Do you know what's happening to us? Answer me now!" 

It was clear the man was affluent, yet he remained utterly clueless that they were trapped inside a game—or whatever bizarre realm they now inhabited.

As Riven scanned the faces around him, he noted that most bore expressions of bewilderment, as if they were experiencing this nightmare for the first time.

Except for Roy—he carried himself with the seasoned confidence of a veteran.

The irate man's voice rose again, tinged with frustration,

"Then tell me!" He brandished a wad of cash as if it were a bribe, exclaiming, "Let me out of here! Take all this—and more—if you can!" 

Roy merely sighed with exaggerated nonchalance.

"As far as I can tell, no one can leave until we reach the end of this passage," he explained calmly.

'Lies,'

Riven thought, narrowing his eyes. There was no evidence that exit was possible—perhaps only through death.

Riven saw right through Roy's lies.

'He's lying to force us into cooperation,' Riven mused.

The irate man fumed, grabbing a kerchief to dab at his sweat and snapping,

"Don't mess with me! Tell me where we are!" 

With a serene smile that belied the tension, Roy answered plainly,

"We're inside a novel."

Riven staggered back, his mind reeling. 

"What?!" he gasped silently. 

'We're not in a game… we're in a novel?!'