After that, I began browsing the store, searching for an outfit that truly suited me.
Browsing the store for a while, I finally found an outfit that felt perfect. I customized it carefully—deep violet silk that flowed like liquid twilight, layered with sheer butterfly wings in lavender and plum that trailed behind me like whispers. Tiny crystals along the edges caught the light, sparkling softly with every breath.
Next, I turned to the lobby itself. Every item in the store was free—no points deducted, no limits. I shaped it into something entirely mine: smooth obsidian walls veined with glowing amethyst, a starry purple sky swirling overhead, hundreds of luminous butterflies drifting lazily around me in shades of violet, lilac, and deep plum. Crystal chandeliers shaped like open butterfly wings cast dancing purple light across velvet couches and chaise lounges embroidered with silver wings. The floor became polished amethyst marble, cool under my feet, with faint purple mist trailing wherever I walked.
I stood in the center, taking it all in. The air felt cool and shimmering with a faint purple glow. My long black hair spilled past my waist, catching the violet hues until it almost glowed at the tips. I lifted my hand, and a single butterfly settled on my fingertip—its wings slowly opening and closing, cool and weightless, like a secret only I could hold. (These butterflies real cost was 300 points, but for me? it was free)
In the arched mirrors along the walls, I saw myself clearly: tall, calm, powerful. Not loud or aggressive—just certain.
This place was mine.
This moment was mine.
And I knew exactly who I was.
Sanya, The Amethyst Roxa.
I named my ID that, proud of the choice. Not like my brother—he was hopeless at naming things. I noticed the option to change the name again was still free. Normally it cost 1,000 points the first time, 2,000 the second. But for me? Nothing.
I didn't understand why everything was free. It felt like a glitch, and surely the developers would notice and fix it eventually. I decided not to dwell on it. For now, I would simply enjoy playing.
I opened my player window, selected Battle Royale Ranked mode, chose solo, and tapped start.
Matchmaking finished almost instantly.
The white space around me faded slowly. My surroundings shifted, and I found myself standing on a platform high above beautiful white clouds that drifted all around me. Soft mist curled beneath my feet, and the air felt fresh, alive, carrying the faint scent of distant rain.
Then I heard a voice behind me.
"Hey there. Are you playing for the first time?"
It belonged to a girl. I turned and saw her standing a few steps away—quite beautiful, her outfit stylish and well-designed, though not quite as striking as mine. Around us were other players—two hundred in total—each with their own unique characters and outfits. Most wore beautiful, elegant clothing, but a few had chosen darker, more demonic styles. Seeing them, even I felt a flicker of discomfort.
This person's character was likely made from her imagination, like most players here. But mine wasn't imagination at all.
It was my real body—my real appearance, matured by cultivation. I looked exactly like my true self, around twenty years old. I didn't want a different face. This was me.
I nodded to the girl who had spoken. She smiled warmly, her eyes bright and friendly.
We began talking. I wasn't worried she might be an old man hiding in a young girl's body. The game had strict rules about that. It forbade any player from misleading others about their gender. Violations meant permanent bans. So I felt safe, and she seemed to feel the same.
We chatted easily. She asked how I found out about the game.
I told her I had just come out of the shower, picked up my phone, and saw the internet exploding with posts about Eternal Ascendancy. She laughed softly and said her friend had told her about it a few days ago. She had been playing since then, but her friend wasn't online today, so she was solo for now.
She asked if I wanted to team up with her.
I blinked, confused. "Team up… in a solo match?"
She nodded, explaining patiently.
The game had a hidden function: players could form temporary teams mid-match. Anyone could invite others, and if the team survived until the end, they would win together. The rewards—game points—would be split evenly among the team members.
Winning a solo match gave only 10 points. Teaming up meant sharing those 10 points, so each person got less. But it also meant higher chances of survival, especially for beginners.
I understood now.
It was a clever system—encouraging cooperation without forcing it.
Eliminated players earned nothing from the match itself. Yet they kept playing. Why? Because quests rewarded them for simply staying in the game longer—daily logins, survival time, number of kills, even losing matches gave small points. Play more, earn more. Winning was just a bonus.