Darkness.
Absolute. Consuming darkness.
It wasn't the peaceful black of sleep but the cold, suffocating embrace of the Void. Sebastian felt his mana veins shattering. Snapping like brittle glass under the pressure of a Tier-10 Deity's aura. He felt his lungs filling with the icy sludge of the abyss. His Tier-9 Melee-Mage armor crumpling like tin foil.
"Die," a voice boomed. Not from the outside but vibrating through his very atoms.
"NO!"
Sebastian gasped. His body jerking violently upright.
His hands flew to his throat. Clawing at skin that should have been dissolved by necrotic acid. But there was no acid. There was sweat. Cold. Clammy sweat soaking through a cheap synthetic t-shirt.
He wasn't on the burning battlefields of the End Times. He was in a bed. A cheap, creaky mattress that smelled of mildew and ozone.
Sebastian's eyes darted around the room. The cramped apartment was illuminated only by the neon glow of the holographic billboards outside the window. Casting erratic flashes of pink and blue across the peeling wallpaper. Rain lashed against the glass. Mixing with the grime of the dystopian cityscape of 2077.
His chest heaved as he forced air into his lungs.
'I'm... alive?'
He looked at his hands. They were unscarred. The calluses from wielding the Star-Shattering Greatsword were gone. These were the hands of a twenty-year-old civilian. Not the battle-hardened warlord who had led the last resistance against the Void gods.
He turned his head toward the bedside table. A translucent digital clock projected the time and date in the air.
[08:03 AM]
[May 1st, 2077]
Sebastian stared at the date. His pupils dilating.
"May 1st..." he whispered. His voice raspy from disuse. "Exactly one year."
The memories flooded back. Sharp and agonizing. In his past life today was the launch day of The Ethereal Plane. The government marketed it as the ultimate VRMMORPG. A second world to escape the dying Earth. But Sebastian knew the truth. It wasn't a game. It was a lifeboat. Or rather a training simulation for the integration of dimensions.
One year from today the "Great Merge" would occur. The game would consume reality. The monsters. The magic. The stats—it would all overwrite the laws of physics on Earth.
And humanity would be slaughtered.
"I'm back," Sebastian muttered. A cold, terrifying clarity settling over him. "I died fighting the Void Monarch. And I've been sent back to the start."
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
His wrist-phone vibrated on the table. Dancing across the surface. The Caller ID flashed red: [Debt Collector: Unit 7].
Sebastian looked at it with the indifference of a god looking at an ant. In his past life these debts had crippled him. Forcing him to sell his starter gear just to eat. Setting him back months in his progression.
He didn't answer. He didn't panic. He simply reached out and crushed the device in his hand. The cheap plastic shattering.
"Money is useless," he said to the empty room. "In twelve months credits will be ash. Only power matters."
He stood up. His movements precise and efficient. He ignored the hunger pangs in his stomach. He walked to the corner of the room where a sleek, black helmet rested on a dusty desk.
The Neuro-Link V4.
It was the gateway.
Sebastian picked it up. The texture of the helmet was cool against his skin. He didn't hesitate. He sat in the ergonomic chair. Pulled the visor down. And initiated the sequence.
"Link Start."
The world of the apartment dissolved into a tunnel of kaleidoscopic light.
[Ding! System Initializing...]
[Scanning Retinal Pattern...]
[Biometric ID Confirmed: Sebastian Vane.]
[Welcome to The Ethereal Plane.]
A soothing, mechanical voice echoed in the white void of the loading screen. Usually this was where a player would be asked to create a character. But Sebastian waited. He knew something the others didn't.
His soul was not the same.
The sheer density of his soul, tempered by the laws of a Tier-9 mage, was too heavy for a Level 1 vessel. He waited for the turbulence.
[Loading User Data...]
[Error! Error!]
Sudden red warning boxes exploded across his vision. Multiplying like a virus. The soothing white void turned a violent, flashing crimson.
[Anomaly Detected in Neural Stream.]
[Soul Frequency exceeds Server Maximum.]
[Attempting to synchronize with previous save file...]
"Come on," Sebastian grit his teeth. Feeling a headache split his skull. The system was trying to load his Tier-9 stats into a fresh account. It was impossible. The game engine couldn't handle it.
[Critical Failure. Save File Corrupted.]
[Data Wipe Imminent.]
[System Alert: To prevent neural collapse, the System is initiating Emergency Compensation Protocol.]
[Calculating Karma...]
[Calculating Achievement Log...]
[Detected: Slayer of Void Monarch (Incomplete Timeline).]
Sebastian's eyes widened. "It remembers the kill?"
In his final moments he had struck the killing blow against the Void Monarch but died simultaneously. The system had registered the kill but had nowhere to award the EXP.
[Reward Calculation Complete.]
[Converting 'Void Monarch Slayer' EXP into Account Bound Currency...]
[Ding!]
The red lights vanished. The void returned to a serene, holy white. A single, golden notification box floated before him. Pulsing with an aura that felt ancient and majestic.
══════════════════════════════════════
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Conversion Error.
Unable to grant Level 999 due to physical body limitations.
Converting excess Experience into Skill Points.
[Reward Granted]: Infinite Skill Points.
[Status]: Locked to Soul. Cannot be traded. Cannot be reset.
══════════════════════════════════════
Sebastian stared at the words.
Infinite.
Not a million. Not a billion. Infinite.
In The Ethereal Plane Skill Points (SP) were the most precious currency. You gained 5 SP per level. A master-level skill might cost 100 points to upgrade. A god-tier skill might cost 10,000.
"Infinite..." A dark, predatory smile carved itself onto Sebastian's face.
In his past life he had spent years grinding for a single point. Agonizing over whether to upgrade his sword mastery or his mana regeneration. He had been a slave to the system's scarcity.
But now?
"The balance of the game just broke," Sebastian whispered. His laughter echoing in the digital void. "I'm not playing the game anymore. I'm going to own it."
[Character Creation Initiated.]
[Please Select Your Class.]
The golden box faded. Replaced by the towering statues of the Twelve Classes. The Warrior. The Mage. The Rogue. The Paladin... they stood like titans. Radiating power.
But Sebastian ignored them all. He walked past the shining armor of the Paladin and the arcane robes of the Archmage. He walked to the very edge of the selection circle. Where a small, unassuming gray statue stood.
It held no weapon. It wore tattered rags.
[Class: The Drifter]
It was the only choice that mattered.