Welcome To Deadlink

[Floor 99 – The Ravaged Expanse]

Ash rained from a sky torn in half.

Ruined towers crumbled in the distance, and leyline fire burned across the shattered ground. The battlefield was a graveyard of shattered weapons, cracked armor, and frozen death markers left behind by fallen players.

Michael lay on his back, half-buried in the wreckage.

A glowing crimson sword pierced straight through his abdomen, pinning him to the cracked stone below. His HP bar was nearly empty—[1/1000]—blinking a dull red in the corner of his vision.

His breathing was ragged. Every exhale came with a wet, bubbling sound. His fingers twitched weakly toward the hilt of the blade lodged in him, but he didn't have the strength to pull it free.

The corrupted HUD flickered.

SYSTEM ERROR: Vital Functions Unstable

Origin Protocol: Locking…

Countdown to critical termination: 0:24

His vision blurred, black creeping into the edges. Sparks sputtered from his damaged armor. Nearby, the roar of battle had gone distant, like a fading storm.

But in his mind, he wasn't on Floor 99 anymore.

He was back on Floor 1, in a quiet ruin.

Micha, smiling. Standing over him. Protecting him. Bleeding for him.

Gone for him.

Michael coughed, blood dripping from his lips. His hand trembled, reaching toward the sky like he could claw his way back to that moment, to undo everything.

"…I'm sorry, Micha," he whispered, voice breaking.

"I guess… I took it too far."

His arm dropped.

The light in his eyes began to fade.

Let me tell you a story and it started like this.

Michael sat slumped in his seat, eyes glued not to the blackboard, but to the worn-out clock above it. The second hand ticked like thunder in his ears—

57… 58… 59…

RIIIIING.

The bell echoed through the classroom like a starting pistol. The teacher barely had a chance to raise his hand.

"Don't forget to—"

Too late.

Michael was already halfway out the door, his chair still spinning behind him. He weaved through the hall like a sprinter in the final stretch of a race, backpack flapping, heart pounding—not from nerves, but from excitement.

Michael was sixteen. Light-skinned with short brown hair that always looked like he just got out of bed, and sharp green eyes that burned with impatience. His uniform shirt had an old juice stain near the collar, but he didn't care. Today was too important for laundry.

He skidded into the main hallway, chest rising and falling. Waiting for him at the lockers was his best friend—Micha.

Micha, the always-chill one. Same age, darker skin, jet-black buzzcut, and the kind of confidence that made teachers annoyed and classmates impressed.

"You ready?" Micha asked with a smirk.

Michael grinned wide, eyes gleaming.

"Hell yeah."

It was 2033. And today marked the global release of Deadlink—the most hyped VRMMORPG game ever created.

Developed by NeuroDrive, the creator John Ron. Deadlink promised full neural immersion: a boundless world where you could explore ancient ruins, join guilds, clear floors, master classes, and chase glory. Every gamer across the planet wanted a piece of it.

Michael and Micha had preordered the game the second it was announced. For months, they watched trailers, scanned leaked footage, and argued over which class was better—Pulse Caster, Nullmage, Swordsman or Combat.

And now?

Now it was time to log in.

Michael split off from Micha at the crosswalk, the two bumping fists as they parted ways.

"See you on the other side," Micha grinned, already jogging toward his neighborhood.

"Alright see ya!"

Michael sprinted the rest of the way home, lungs burning with excitement. His mind raced faster than his legs. Deadlink—finally. He had waited months for this day. Nothing else mattered now.

When he turned onto his street, his eyes immediately locked onto the small brown package sitting on his front porch. His heart skipped.

It was here.

He didn't even slow down. Michael vaulted the last step, snatched the box off the welcome mat, and barged inside.

"Afternoon, Mom!" he called, dashing past the kitchen where his mom was chopping vegetables.

She glanced up, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Well, aren't you in a hurry?"

"Yup!" he shouted back, already halfway up the stairs.

Michael kicked his bedroom door shut behind him and dropped the box onto his desk. His room was a gamer's haven—action figures lined the shelves, a glowing setup flickered softly in the corner, and there, resting like a crown jewel, was his NeuroDrive headset.

He tore the package open with zero hesitation. Inside: a sleek black case containing a tiny silver chip. Deadlink's logo shimmered in digital ink across it—a shattered circle with jagged lines cutting through like a spiderweb glitch.

He slid the chip into the NeuroDrive port. The machine hummed as lights flickered from red to blue to green.

"I've been waiting for this moment."

Michael flopped onto his bed, heart pounding. He grabbed the headset, took a deep breath, and slipped it over his head.

The world around him faded to black as the system engaged. A soft chime echoed through his skull.

[NEURODRIVE SYSTEM ONLINE]

[LOADING — DEADLINK]

Michael smirked, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"Hello, world," he whispered, just before everything blinked white.

Light.

A brilliant flash consumed Michael's vision, then slowly began to shape itself—pixels swirling, forming outlines, textures, sky. He was no longer in his room.

He stood barefoot on a floating platform in a realm of glass and stars. Above him, a massive title formed letter by letter across the sky:

DEADLINK

"Forge your link. Defy the end."

All around him, other new players materialized—ghostly outlines snapping into shape as more users joined the launch server. A voice—smooth, artificial, yet almost human—echoed in his mind:

"Welcome, Player. Initiating Neural Link."

Lines of soft light scanned Michael's body as a translucent menu bloomed before him, offering options:

• Create Avatar

• Select Combat Style

• Class Preview

• Enter Floor Zero

Michael grinned. This was it. This was the real deal.

He scrolled through the class choices, admiring each animated display:

• Combat User – master of physical martial techniques.

• Pulse Caster – ranged gunner with rapid-fire magic shots.

• Swordsman – deadly close-range with blade specialization.

• Nullmage – rare magic manipulators who control strange anomalies.

So many cool options…

He hovered over Swordsman, then confirmed. A holographic blade appeared in his hand as the data locked in. The hilt shimmered, adjusting to his grip like it was meant for him.

"Class confirmed: Swordsman."

"Initializing transport to Floor Zero."

The world bent inward—like the stars folded in on themselves—and suddenly…

⸻

Michael dropped onto solid ground. Cobblestone streets stretched out before him, surrounded by medieval architecture meshed with futuristic holograms. Floating HUDs pointed toward quest boards, shops, and player zones. It looked like a fantasy city swallowed a cyberpunk world.

Other players buzzed with excitement. Some were cheering, others examining gear or high-fiving friends.

Then he got an invite to a party with Micha, he accepted the party invite.

Micha's voice suddenly echoed through a private party call.

"Yo! You in yet?"

Michael smiled. "Just landed. This is insane…"

"I know, right? Let me teleport to you," Micha said over party chat, his voice buzzing with excitement.

A soft chime echoed in Michael's ear, and a white translucent notification slid into view:

[Micha is requesting to teleport to your location.]

[ACCEPT] [DECLINE]

Michael tapped Accept, and a pulse of light appeared beside him. In seconds, Micha's avatar materialized on the stone street, glowing lines fading from his form.

"Yo!" Micha said, grinning wide as he stepped forward.

They bumped fists, both of them buzzing with energy.

Michael looked his best friend over. "So… what class did you pick?"

"Swordsman," Micha replied, twirling a basic one-handed blade around his fingers.

Michael laughed. "Same. Guess we're gonna be slicing through this game together."

"Hell yeah we are," Micha smirked.

Their laughter was interrupted by a sudden ripple through the digital sky. Every player froze as a massive projection screen shimmered to life above the plaza. A familiar, sleek voice echoed through the entire city—like an announcer from a polished trailer:

"Welcome to Deadlink—the world's most immersive VRMMORPG experience. A decade of development, powered by the NeuroDrive interface, and now… you are living it."

All across the plaza, players cheered, raising weapons, posing for holographic photos, or simply throwing up peace signs. Fireworks erupted above the rooftops.

"We're proud to say there are over 100,000 players online right now. And this… is only the beginning."

Michael and Micha looked at each other, eyes wide with adrenaline.

"At 8:00 PM system time, a special announcement will be broadcast game-wide. Prepare yourselves, players—we've got something big in store."

The screen blinked out.

Michael raised a brow. "Think it's an expansion teaser already?"

Micha shrugged. "Maybe a live event? Or a system-wide boss battle?"

"Nah I don't think they would do something like that, that early."

They didn't know it yet—but the "big announcement" was going to change everything.

Michael and Micha walked out beyond the safety walls of the starter city, entering the Verdant Fields—a wide, grassy expanse dotted with low-level beasts. In the distance, several other players were already engaging enemies, sword clashes and spell effects lighting up the field.

A group of wild boars—Field Tusklings [Lv. 3–5]—rooted around near a tree line.

Michael drew his basic silver sword, its edge glinting with a faint digital sheen. Micha did the same.

"Target that one on the left," Micha said. "Let's get to level 5 fast."

Michael nodded, then dashed forward. The moment he was in range, he slashed downward at a Tusking.

[5 DMG] floated above its head as the strike connected. Its health bar dropped from [10/10] to [5/10].

The boar snarled, tusks lowered, and charged.

"Look out!" Micha shouted.

But Michael rolled to the side with clean reflexes. He spun mid-motion and launched himself back at the beast. "Haaaah!"

He leapt high and brought his blade down in a clean arc.

CRITICAL!

[5 DMG – Kill]

The boar disintegrated into shimmering blue polygons and scattered into the wind like data flakes.

[LEVEL UP – Lv. 2]

[EXP: 6 → 18]

[ATK: 5 → 7]

[HP: 10 → 13]

[AGI: 10 → 12]

Loot Gained:

– 3x Boar Fur

– 5x Iron Shards

– Unlocked Skill: Air Slash [Lv.1]

A digital flash appeared at Michael's palm, his blade shimmering as a new icon hovered at the edge of his vision—[Air Slash], a beginner Sword skill.

"Damn, Michael—you're a natural!" Micha said, eyes wide as he kicked away another boar.

Michael grinned, holding his blade up as it caught the sunlight. "Had to show you how it's done."

Micha chuckled. "Well, don't get cocky—we've still got thirty more to go."

They turned together as another group of Tusklings emerged from the thicket. The grind had just begun.

The sun in the Deadlink sky dipped toward the artificial horizon, casting warm golden rays across the Verdant Fields. Players dotted the hills like colorful insects—solo warriors, small parties, spellcasters launching low-tier spells, swordsmen grinding mobs in coordinated bursts.

Michael and Micha stood near a shallow stream, panting slightly. Around them, the broken pixels of defeated Tusklings slowly evaporated.

[LEVEL UP – Lv. 4]

[Michael – HP: 23/23 | ATK: 9 | AGI: 14]

[Skill Unlocked – Dash Step]

[Inventory: 6x Fur | 9x Iron | 1x Boar Fang (Uncommon)]

Michael wiped sweat off his brow—even in VR, NeuroDrive's adaptive immersion could simulate stamina and fatigue. "This game's grind hits harder than I expected."

"But it feels good, right?" Micha said, slamming his sword into the dirt like a flagpole. "Like it's real. Like… this is what games should've always been."

Michael nodded, glancing around at the peaceful landscape. "It's almost better than real life."

They sat under a tree for a moment, watching players train, trade, and laugh in the distance. The wind rustled the grass with soft code-generated sound, but something in the air felt… tight. Off.

Micha leaned back, hands behind his head. "When we hit level 5, let's start expanding our party and probably make a guild"

Michael smirked. "New people already, you don't just want it to be the two of us?"

A soft gong rang in the sky. Then another.

Suddenly, the entire world paused.

The wind stopped.

The animals froze.

All players halted in their place as a massive red alert window flashed across the sky:

[‼ GLOBAL SYSTEM NOTICE ‼]

Time: 8:00 PM

System Message: Full Synchronization Activated

Logout Option: DISABLED

Vital Link Established

Warning: Death in-game now results in permanent neural termination.

Silence.

Then chaos.

"Wait, what the hell?!" a player screamed nearby.

"My menu's not working!"

"I CAN'T LOG OUT!"

Michael's hand trembled as he opened his system panel. Sure enough, the Logout button was grayed out and pulsing red.

"No… no no no," Micha muttered, eyes wide. "This can't be real. They said this was just a game!"

Suddenly, the red system window faded and was replaced by a projection of a man—his face cloaked by a shifting mask of static.

"Greetings, players this is John Ron. You are now part of the real Deadlink."

"We gave you immersion. Now you give us your survival."

"Beat the game. Reach the final floor. Or die trying."

"And remember: this world is now your only one."

The feed cut.