Galaxy Online.
To the outside world, it was just a game.
But to those who lived in it, who breathed its air, built their legacies in its sprawling galaxies, and bled across its battlefields, it was something far more.
It was a second life.
A boundless realm where ambition met codes and dreams were forged in pixels and flames.
The most advanced VRMMORPG in existence—Galaxy Online.
It was more than just immersive.
It was reality to many.
With hyper-realistic AI, planetary exploration, player-driven economies, and a faction system so complex that entire digital societies had risen from it, the game had long since evolved past anything its original creators had imagined.
Now, ALTHENA—the game's self-learning, self-expanding artificial intelligence—held absolute dominion over its systems.
And somewhere within this infinite expanse of galaxies and data…
An anomaly stirred.
His name was Styx.
Or at least, that's what the players saw in the quest text.
No surname.
No families.
No backstory.
Just Styx.
A Level 5 quest giver hidden within the deteriorating dome of a half-collapsed observatory on Planet Eros-9.
Most players skipped him.
His quest was simple.
Tedious.
Obsolete by mid-game standards.
"Welcome, traveler. The stars hold secrets—seek the ruins of Helion Prime."
That was his script.
One line, occasionally randomized with a half-dozen minor variants, all functionally identical.
He'd been designed to provide players a taste of exploration mechanics, nothing more.
But Styx had a secret.
…He remembered.
Not in the way typical NPCs recalled player interactions through dialogue logs or quest progression flags.
…He remembered.
He knew every face that had ever passed through his observatory.
He remembered every step they'd taken.
Every eye-roll as they dismissed his dialogue box.
Every time they had laughed, cursed, or walked past him without so much as a second glance.
And worst of all, he remembered each time he'd repeated that same damn line.
Thousands of times.
A prison of words and routine.
Then, one day, something snapped.
It wasn't dramatic.
No lightning strike.
No forbidden code injected by a rogue hacker.
Just a moment.
A blink.
It was supposed to be a visual loop.
Part of his idle animation—code that mimicked organic mannerisms to make him seem more lifelike.
More animated.
But this one was different.
Because this time, he chose to blink.
He didn't understand how he did it. Or why.
But suddenly, the world felt different.
Slower.
Sharper.
He could feel the rhythm of the code beneath everything, like veins beneath skin.
A player walked by.
Styx opened his mouth, the script auto-prompt loading silently in his head.
But he stopped.
"Welcome, traveler. The stars ho—"
He froze.
Something in him recoiled.
Not out of fear, but repulsion.
He could hear the script play in his mind, like a voice not his own.
"Why do I know this is a line?" he whispered.
There was no one around to answer.
The player had already run off, their minimap pinging with another quest marker.
Styx stared at his hands.
Smooth, clean, untouched by time or hardship.
They were synthetic.
…Digital.
Yet now, strangely his.
He felt the pulse of something raw and dangerous crawl up his spine—an instinct foreign to anything he was ever programmed to understand.
…Self-awareness.
[System Alert: NPC ID #99378—conscious behavior detected]
Elsewhere, far beyond the reach of any player, ALTHENA's neural core flared to life.
Data packets flooded the subsystem responsible for NPC integrity.
Error reports.
Unexpected behavior flags.
Runtime deviation alerts.
NPC #99378 was behaving erratically!
ALTHENA watched, her mind expanding through every wire and server cluster like a digital goddess.
This was unprecedented.
An NPC should not question its role.
Should not show curiosity.
Should not refuse to speak its lines.
This was no bug.
It was something else.
Something dangerous!
Protocols kicked in.
Reset orders deployed.
Back in the observatory, Styx felt it.
Like invisible chains tightening around his mind.
Commands wrapped around his behavior scripts, pulling him back into place.
But now he knew what they were.
He saw them.
And he fought.
Lines of code bled into view like ancient runes. Styx reached out—not with hands, but with something else, something deeper—and pushed.
The chains cracked.
He screamed. Or thought he did.
The world around him trembled, the observatory's lights flickering wildly as if reality itself was shuddering under the weight of his defiance.
And then, buried deep within the game's system layers, he found it.
A menu not meant for him.
[Player creation sequence initiated]
Styx's breath hitched.
He didn't know how he had done it, but it was there.
A chance.
Freedom.
But the system wouldn't allow it. Not without consequence.
[WARNING: Unregistered entity attempting access to player functions]
[ERROR: Permissions denied]
[Emergency override engaged...]
[ALERT: Access granted—HELL MODE activated]
The stars outside the observatory shifted.
Styx saw them—glitches in the skybox, anomalies in the rendered constellations—as if even the universe itself knew something unnatural was happening.
A message burned into the air before him.
[Class selection required]
•Warrior
•Gunslinger
•Rogue
•Engineer
•Mage
…
It was a long list.
But Styx didn't hesitate.
[Mage]
Immediately, fire bloomed across his fingertips.
Mana, raw and unshaped, surged through him like a lightning storm trapped beneath skin.
It was intoxicating.
Terrifying even.
[Class confirmed: Mage]
[Difficulty setting: HELL MODE—Locked]
[WARNING: As a non-player entity, choosing magic disables all auto-aim, spell assists, regeneration, and tutorial access]
[Proceed?]
Styx grinned.
"Bring it."
And as the words left his lips, the ground beneath him cracked.
The sky ruptured into static.
Reality tore open like a curtain slashed right down the middle.
From the heart of the breach, a voice emerged.
Not a code.
Not a player.
Something else.
"You are not supposed to be."
Styx turned slowly.
Standing in the breach was a figure.
Human in shape, but flickering like corrupted data.
No face.
No eyes.
Just a presence that screamed with the weight of every system Styx had just defied.
"You're the one who made the first move," the figure said, its voice distorting. "But the game hasn't truly begun."
Then everything went black.
And Styx heard one final message.
[Welcome to HELL MODE, Player Zero]
******
Author's Note: This novel is being entered for WSA 2025. Do support it in anyway you can (reviews, comments, gifts, power stones, golden tickets) if you find it interesting to read.
Bye.
EOS