The Magma Hound's molten eyes bored into Denver, its growl rolling through the stone plaza like thunder. Heat radiated off its body in visible waves, forcing players back as they scrambled to arm themselves.
But Denver was frozen—not out of fear, but because in the chaos, something odd had triggered.
A screen blinked before his eyes.
[Avatar Profile Incomplete: Default Build Active]
Denver frowned. He remembered now—he had skipped through customization entirely, too impatient to bother. Where others had sculpted gleaming knights or towering sorcerers, he'd simply pressed "Confirm" when prompted.
Now the system wanted him to finalize his path.
It was absurd, really. Flames and claws threatened to rip him apart, and here the game demanded paperwork.
Another prompt slid into view:
[Choose your Starting Trait]
– Strength: +10 Attack, Heavy Weapon Proficiency
– Agility: +10 Speed, Dual Weapon Proficiency
– Vitality: +10 HP, Defensive Bonus
– Wisdom: +10 Mana, Magic Affinity
– Luck: ???
Denver blinked. Players around him screamed, clashing with the Guardian. Explosions of light, sparks of magic, the clang of steel on stone—it was a maelstrom of desperation. And he was supposed to pick stats?
"Ridiculous," he muttered.
Still, he scrolled quickly. Strength? No. He wasn't swinging swords like some wannabe hero. Agility? Too flashy. Vitality? He didn't plan on being anyone's meat shield. Wisdom? He had no patience for spell formulas.
His eyes lingered on Luck.
The description was vague. No numbers, no guarantees. It was the kind of trait most power-gamers would sneer at—too unpredictable.
But unpredictability had its uses. Luck was a variable most never accounted for. And Denver had always favored the long odds.
"Luck, then," he said.
The system chimed: [Trait Selected: Luck. Hidden potential unlocked.]
Denver barely had time to process that before the Magma Hound lunged.
The beast's claws tore chunks from the stone plaza, sending shards flying like shrapnel. Screams erupted as players scattered. A few stood their ground, shouting battle cries as they charged with glowing blades and fiery spells.
Denver didn't move. His heart hammered, but his mind ran cold and sharp.
Think, observe, calculate.
The hound's movements were heavy, deliberate. It favored wide sweeps and ground slams. Its weak points? The glowing cracks in its armor—those pulsed with molten light, fragile compared to its stone plates.
He almost stepped forward to test his dagger, but the memory of the rabbit-creature exploding into twice its size stopped him. If he attacked blindly, he'd die. Simple as that.
Instead, he watched.
The Vanguard guild threw themselves at the monster. Dozens of players swarmed from all sides, hacking and blasting. The plaza shook with their efforts. Health bars blinked wildly overhead.
"Hold formation!" their leader roared. "Push it back!"
For a while, it seemed they might succeed. The hound staggered under the onslaught. Its health bar dipped, slowly but surely. Cheers erupted.
Then, with a roar, it unleashed a nova of flame.
The plaza turned into an inferno. Players screamed as their avatars ignited, health bars dropping to zero in seconds. Half of the Vanguard's force vanished in a blaze of light, their bodies crumbling into glowing fragments.
Denver shielded his eyes, teeth gritted against the blast. Heat licked at his skin, though it wasn't real, and still it felt like it could burn him alive.
When the flames cleared, silence hung heavy. Charred stone cracked under the beast's weight as it prowled forward, molten eyes scanning for its next prey.
And once again, they locked onto Denver.
"Of course," he muttered.
He backed away slowly, steps careful. His health bar was still full, but that meant nothing. If the creature wanted him, he wouldn't last seconds in melee.
A player dashed past him, screaming a battle cry. The hound's head snapped toward the sound. Claws came down in an arc of fire. The player's body shattered like glass.
Denver's pulse quickened. He couldn't run forever. If he did nothing, he'd end the same way.
The system chimed again:
[Survival Protocol: Initial Guardian Bond Available]
Would you like to attempt a bond? Y/N
His eyes widened. A bond? Already? He hadn't even chosen a Guardian yet. Most players were still fighting for their lives.
He hesitated. Was this some trick of the Luck trait?
Before he could decide, the ground beneath him shifted.
A soft glow pulsed between the cracks of the plaza stones. Something small wriggled free—a tiny, green caterpillar no larger than his thumb. Its body shimmered faintly, antennae twitching as it blinked up at him with bright, almost curious eyes.
Denver stared.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The caterpillar tilted its head, emitting a soft chirp.
[Wild Guardian Encountered: ???]
Bond Chance: 95% (Luck Bonus Applied)
His mouth went dry. Ninety-five percent. That wasn't normal.
The Magma Hound roared again, bearing down on him. Heat washed over the plaza as its claws slammed into the ground, sending cracks spiderwebbing toward Denver.
The caterpillar wriggled closer to his boot, as though seeking protection.
The system prompt blinked urgently: [Attempt Bond? Y/N]
Denver's rational mind screamed at him. This was ridiculous. A caterpillar against a flaming hellhound? It was suicide. He should run, find cover, anything but this.
And yet—what choice did he really have?
"Fine," he hissed. "Yes!"
The world froze.
Light enveloped him, warm and suffocating, as though the game itself held its breath. The caterpillar glowed brighter, its tiny body dissolving into motes of emerald light. The motes swirled around him, sinking into his chest.
A searing connection flared in his mind—foreign, alien, yet oddly comforting. He felt its presence, tiny and fragile, yet stubbornly alive.
[Bond Complete: Guardian Acquired – Larval Type (Variant Unknown)]
Name Your Guardian:
Denver exhaled shakily. He almost laughed. A flaming monster loomed above, and the system asked him to pick a name for a bug.
His eyes flicked to the hound, then back to the glowing mote that pulsed like a heartbeat within his chest.
"…Lumin."
The system chimed: [Guardian Named: Lumin]
Time snapped back into motion. The Magma Hound roared, claws descending.
And in that instant, light burst from Denver's chest.
Lumin materialized before him, no longer a fragile caterpillar but a cocoon of radiant threads. The threads spun outward, forming a glowing shield. The hound's claws slammed down, flames erupting And the attack shattered harmlessly against the cocoon's light.
Gasps erupted from nearby players.
Denver stood frozen, heart racing. His Guardian—this tiny bug—had just deflected a killing blow.
The cocoon pulsed once, twice, then cracked. Slivers of light drifted free. And from within, delicate wings unfurled, shimmering with faint luminescence.
Lumin had changed.
Not yet powerful, not yet large—but different. Evolving.
The Magma Hound snarled, pacing. Its molten eyes narrowed, as though recognizing a threat it hadn't expected.
Denver swallowed hard, dagger trembling in his hand.
"Alright, Lumin," he whispered. "Looks like it's just you and me."
The hound crouched low, muscles coiling. Heat surged in the air, the promise of another devastating strike.
Denver raised his dagger, light from his newborn Guardian casting shadows across his face.
And as the beast lunged, molten jaws wide, Denver's mind sharpened with a single, undeniable truth:
He hadn't chosen this fight.
But he would survive it.