The demon emperor awoke against an oak tree. He was atop a hill of tall grass, above a forest of pines, and gray fog marked by black streaks of heavy rain. He was cold and wet, but with his first breaths his reptilian eyes narrowed in focus. He was alive.

[Welcome to Ark World, player Zenos.] a holographic prompt read. It appeared ten inches in front of his face and followed his field of view. When he reached to touch it, he felt resistance like he’d touched rubber, but his persistent finger pushed through. The prompt vanished.

[Would you like to start the tutorial?] a second prompt read.

Zenos? the emperor wondered. Tutorial? Player?! He jumped to his feet, clung the oak behind him like he was staring down a cliff. He had heard that term from Ghost. In the emperor’s own godless age there were no chosen ones, but the idea of champions with demi-god might was still a core part of NPC society.

“Players have access to special magic that NPCs do not,” Ghost once explained. “The System—the game’s internal function—is available to them. They can interact with screens that appear invisible to NPCs, view their vital statistics, their skills, and manage their equipment without touching it. They can open gates to dimensions exclusively for baggage, possess infinite vitality, and most importantly they cannot be killed. Remember that: A player cannot die.”

The demon emperor flexed his hands, checked over his arms and clothes. He was wearing white gloves, a long gray coat that felt like sheep’s wool, and tough black boots. The boots were leather and close enough to things he’d seen in his world, but the coat appeared alien to him. The stitching was very fine and the tailoring precise. There were holes and pools of pinkish red that appeared to be blood, but when he poked his finger through, he felt smooth skin. His stature and build appeared smaller, slighter than his last. He felt at least as healthy as before he died, but less vigorous. He wasn’t as muscular anymore.

The emperor paused and clenched his hands. I died. Everything went dark and I… what’s this fogginess I’m remembering? A flag? It was familiar word used in a strange way, but when he thought on the strange vagueness in his head, the word flag instantly came to mind. He knew that there was a memory there, but that it was locked. The presence of an unreachable memory was called a flag.

The tutorial message waited for input. There were two boxes below the question, marked Yes and No. The demon emperor recognized those words contained elements of the ancient runes of magic, but symbols once steeped in mysticism now appeared as a legible language. He pressed Yes.

Several screens appeared with adjoining dialogue windows to guide him along. He learned about his inventory: A screen of his possessions he could view and contribute to by passing items through the holographic display. He learned about his stat window, short for statistics, which presented all his related attributes. To NPCs, attributes were an abstract idea estimated by magical skills such as Analysis or Review. In the stat window, attributes like Strength, Intelligence, and Agility were presented as hard numbers. Other stats of interest were Constitution, Spirit, and Charisma. The tutorial window elaborated on their values, used terms like scaling, diminishing returns, and main stat versus ancillary. All of this went over the emperor’s head.

He turned to the equipment window where the tutorial detailed his own ‘paper doll’ avatar. In the window he saw a three-dimensional avatar of his own body, blonde hair, orange eyes, and all. He was clearly a man, and his eyes were the cursed Eyes of the Emperor, but the rest of his body appeared foreign. The tutorial guided the emperor on how to use tabs on the equipment screen to switch equipment sets, access ‘decorative’ gear, and more importantly a tab for his ‘biography.’ In the biography tab he could read the key details of his character’s life. Tears pricked in his eyes.

Anton Eddleston, the emperor thought, for you to have died in such a way… I’m sorry. Your life must have been hard for you. I don’t know why I’ve come to inhabit your body, or why it’s named Zenos, but I promise I’ll treat it well.

He scrolled further and found the end of Anton’s biography. [Amarytha, Goddess of the Underworld, appealed to Gaia, the Mother of Gods. Together, they used Anton’s corpse to resurrect the long-dead Demon Emperor of Darigon.]

Amarytha! The demon emperor first recognized her as Amy, the heroine who fought for his world in its final hour, but she wasn’t alone. He recognized the name Gaia and thought back to his conversations with Ghost.

“Your script was made by the arkitects, but it is enforced by something called the Director. She is a program like yourself, tasked with monitoring the game world. To NPCs she’s called Gaia, the mother to all gods,” Ghost had explained before. “The Pantheon supposedly banished her to Amarytha’s realm in your game’s background, but they never had that power. She never left. Be very careful of her, because she is always watching you.”

The emperor frowned, closed the dialogue windows and exited all his available screens. As the tutorial had instructed, he could recall the menu screens by thinking about them individually or open a root menu by thinking about them together. There was more that the emperor wanted to learn, but he had a new concern. Three individuals were approaching ahead.

They were young men—clearly soldiers—that wore square blue caps and thin-looking blue coats. In their hands were long pieces of wood bound by metal. The emperor recognized them as the muskets Ghost had invented, but they looked more refined. Although he couldn’t hear their footsteps in the rain, the emperor could tell they were walking cautiously. When they saw the emperor, the three soldiers raised their rifles.

He raised his hand.

“Hello?” the emperor asked.

Ffpt! Ffpt! Fffpt! Pocks of dust burst around the emperor. His chest shuddered, his hand felt hot, and blood poured across the ground. He turned and ran, first behind the oak and then further down the hill. He slipped on mud and pushed his boot through a heap of grass as he slid toward a forest of pine trees. The emperor knew he had been hit twice, once in the chest and once through the palm of his hand.

[Your HP was reduced from 80 to 53. Your chest was hit for 20 lethal damage. Your hand was hit for 7 lethal damage. You have two stacks of bleeding.] The strange, calm thoughts that popped into his head were read in his voice but weren’t his ideas. The emperor stumbled up from the grass and through a thicket of bushes. He stopped behind the tree line and hid himself against the back of a thick pine. It hurt to breath, but he clutched his chest, grit his teeth, and bore with it.

What was that? he thought, eyes shut, heart racing. Part of the player system? When he wondered about his injuries, a prompt appeared in the dark of his mind.

[Would you like to enable the HUD?] it read.

Yes, he thought.

The emperor opened his eyes and colorful icons appeared in his vision. Toward the top of his sight was a red and gray bar. The red indicated how much health was left versus how much was missing. White numbers in the middle of the bar indicated how much total health he had, how much health remained, and what that percentage was. In the top right of his vision he saw flashing icons. Fixating on them opened a new information prompt.

[Bleeding (stack x2). You are losing 4 HP per 5 seconds until you die or exit combat.]

The emperor’s health bar ticked down 4 points, reduced from 53 to 49. Although he had bled down the hill, only when the health bar depleted did he feel a loss in vitality. His ragged breaths turned for the worse, his hand felt numb, and cold chills passed up his stomach.

Damn. The demon emperor sunk down against the trunk. The rain masked the soldiers’ movements, but he was sure they had chased him over the hill. I’m already half dead. I don’t know any healing magic and four health lost per five seconds works out to… seventy seconds or thereabout. Can I not protect a single body?

Thunder rolled overhead; the rain poured harder. The demon emperor watched his health deplete to 45, then to 41. He closed his eyes, but as he resigned himself to an early death a new prompt appeared.

[You have exited combat. Health will now regenerate.]

41 turned to 46, then five seconds later, 51. His health was returning by five every five seconds. With higher HP came higher vitality; the pain relented, his bleeding stopped, and his wounds closed before his very eyes. It’s like Ghost said… players possess infinite vitality. The emperor’s eyes widened. With this body, I can’t die. If I can’t die, then I’m not bound by my script!

“I get a choice now,” the emperor said. It was strange to hear those words, because it wasn’t the voice he recognized. He made a smile and looked out into the forest behind him. “I can run from fate like an NPC, or… I can fight it. Not as the emperor, but with this name I was given.”

Zenos!

Bushes rustled beside his tree. Zenos stood, turned out from behind the trunk, and faced a very surprised young man. He was small, poorly fit in his big coat, and didn’t have a shred of hair on his chin. Zenos grabbed the boy’s rifle by its barrel, clenched a fist, and swung for his face. Through the Eyes of the Emperor, the boy’s urgent, confused thought flit through Zenos’ mind.

He can see?! The young assailant thought. Zenos’ struck his throat.

[40 non-lethal damage dealt,] the system informed Zenos through the mature voice of his former identity, the demon emperor. [Non-lethal damage has exceeded total HP, target is unconscious. Combat has ended.] The assailant was sprawled out on the bushes and Zenos saw gray numbers displayed on the boy’s HP bar. They were higher than the white numbers, but they were counting down.

[Unarmed Proficiency raised from 20 to 21.] a visible prompt informed Zenos.

He cleared the prompt with his hand and got down to looting the NPC. He took the boy’s rifle and his rondel knife, a short-looking spike that excelled at piercing chainmail and prying open armor. When he touched the rifle, a new prompt appeared.

[Firearm: Rifle Proficiency discovered. Firearm: Rifle Proficiency raised from 0 to 1. You now have basic knowledge of firearms.]

Ghost had described black powder and musket technology to Zenos before, but now that he held the rifle, he realized it was something much more advanced. It was bolt action, magazine fed, and didn’t require as much diligence or care. By just touching it he knew how to load and unload the rifle, and how to aim by matching the rear and forward sights. It felt natural to him, as if he’d known all along. Zenos fit the rondel in the loop of his belt, pressed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder, and took aim. His eyes met those of the second soldier.

Bang!

[You have dealt 20 lethal damage to the chest.]

[Target is dead. Combat has ended.]

[Rifle Proficiency has raised from 1 to 3.]

[You have gained Experience. You have leveled up.]

[One level up is waiting for you.]

Zenos needed to reload. He pulled on the bolt handle, opened the receiver, and ejected the spent cartridge. The brass casing fell to the moss by his boot. He pushed the handle forward, loaded the next bullet, and rotated the bolt handle to its locked position. Pffbt! Bark pocked off a nearby tree. With his new firearm knowledge, he recognized the sound as a near miss. He peeled further from cover; rifle aimed.

Bang! Zenos missed, spun behind his tree trunk chambered another round.

[Rifle Proficiency has increased from 3 to 4.]

An image on his HUD informed him there were two bullets left in his magazine of five. He spun out of cover and searched for his target, found the soldier by the color of his health bar bright behind distant grass.

Bang!

[You have dealt 20 critical lethal damage to the chest.]

[Target is dead. Combat has ended.]

[Rifle Proficiency has raised from 4 to 5.]

[You have gained Experience. You have leveled up.]

[Two level ups are waiting for you.]

“Level ups? Do those only happen if I make a kill?” Zenos asked himself. He racked his rifle, pointed down at the head of the unconscious boy.

The rain continued to pour.

Zenos swung the rifle over his shoulder, tightened the strap. He shook his head and made his way up the hill, toward the dead soldiers. They had no use for ammunition, so Zenos didn’t mind searching their pockets. Looting earned him an extra magazine and another rondel, which he took as a spare. There was also a pistol holstered in one soldier’s belt and an identification booklet, and touching both activated prompts.

[Firearm: Pistol Proficiency discovered.] one read.

[Reading material discovered. Information loaded to your journal.]

[You have gained insight into the Atilonian alphabet.]

[You have gained insight into the Atilonan language.]

[Atilonian alphabet proficiency increased from 0 to 20.]

[Atilonan language proficiency increased from 0 to 20.]

Zenos closed the messages. He left the pistol where it was and placed the book in his coat pocket. From the top of the hill he saw a wandering path that led through the meadow and into the woods. There was another corpse near the bottom of the hill, but it wasn’t an atilonian. It was a woman. Zenos approached cautiously.

She wore a gray coat, torn by bullets and dyed in blood. A pistol was clutched in one hand and a white mask with two small horns covered her face. Zenos knelt down and removed the mask. Cloudy brown eyes stared up at him as those of a doll. With his hand he closed them and placed the mask in the mud beside her head.

Zenos turned to examine the forest path. It was paved by a crude stair of chipped boulders and flanked on both sides by tall pines. The road where Anton was ambushed is at the bottom of this trail, he thought. I believe those three were sent to confirm his death. If I return, the rest might try to finish the job, and I’ll have one recourse.

Zenos scowled as a thought crossed his mind.

Can I justify murder? he wondered.

Zenos closed his eyes and listened to the rain. He searched his memory for battles, conversations with Ghost, and days spent at court and abroad. He recalled the demon lords, and looked at their faces for counsel. After a moment of silence, interrupted only by the rattle of rain and rolling thunder, he stood again.

“Maybe I can’t justify it,” he said and opened his reptilian eyes.

A holographic system prompt appeared in front of him. [Hidden Quest Discovered.] it read. [Anton and his bodyguards were murdered by Atilonian soldiers. Defeat the rest of the Atilonian ambush.] There were buttons labeled yes and no below the message.

“But I’ll do what feels right,” he told the system.

Zenos pressed the yes button.

[Quest Accepted.]

He fit his thumb under his rifle strap and headed down the trail. A few minutes later a muddy road came into view. Zenos heard voices and removed his rifle from his shoulder. He saw holographic name tags highlighted in yellow, bright enough to see through the trees. They read [Atilonian Soldier]. Zenos matched the sights of his rifle and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

[Target is dead.]

Pffbt! Zenos ducked and tugged off the spent magazine. It slipped from his rain-slick fingers and bounced down the trail. He reached into his pocket for the spare, plugged it, pounded it with his palm, and chambered a new round. His HUD responded by filling the bullet counter in the corner of his vision. Bullets pocked the dirt around Zenos and he hurried down the steps. From the cover of a tree trunk on the hill he started his counterattack.

[Target is dead.]

[Target is dead.]

[Target is dead.]

[Target is dead.]

[Rifle Proficiency raised from 7 to 8.]

[Four level ups are waiting for you.]

The Atilonians shouted among themselves, but Zenos couldn’t understand the words. He panted, racked his rifle, and held it flush against his chest. His cheeks were red, he was damp with sweat, but there was a smile on his face. Am I enjoying this? he wondered.

Bullets pelted the trunk. Zenos peeled out from cover, made one shot with his rifle. It missed and his magazine was empty. He slipped and slid down the rest of the hill, bounced up onto the road and ran toward the carriages. The horses were long dead, but a carriage made for good cover. He dropped his rifle and drew both rondel daggers from his belt.

I saw there were five left, he thought, smiling. I bet I can take them out in one attack.

Zenos turned out from behind his carriage and charged the remaining soldiers. In the distant past, the demon emperor dominated the battlefield with the Eyes of the Emperor. Whatever world, or body he inhabited, it made no difference; so long as he had his eyes, Zenos had control. His orange eyes shaped into predatory diamonds and flashed brightly.

[At-Will Ability: True Eyes of the Emperor Activated.]

“Stop!” he ordered.

[Compulsion failed x5.] the system reported. Zenos could dissect what happened later, but a moment of confusion was all he needed. One moment of hesitation on the battlefield and a man could die.

[Target is dead.]

Zenos had jammed his rondel through a soldier’s neck. Blood squirted across his face and past his shoulder. Each soldier had just 15 HP and one strike of a rondel to the neck caused 40 critical lethal damage. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Pffbt! Pfbt! Mud splattered from the road; water splashed up from the puddles around Zenos. The wild-eyed warrior dashed between the soldiers, stabbing up beneath their ribs and through their necks. Zenos felt his chest throb with pain, his leg flinched, and his left arm fell limp. He dropped one rondel.

[Your HP was reduced from 80 to 41. Your chest was hit for 20 lethal damage. Your left arm was hit for 12 lethal damage. Your left leg was hit for 7 lethal damage. You have three stacks of bleeding.]

[Target is dead.]

[Target is dead.]

[Target is dead.]

Three stacks mean I’m losing 6 health per 5 seconds, but if I end this fast, I’ll live! Zenos gripped his dagger tightly in his right hand and clashed with a soldier. The others had demonstrated next to no skill in melee, but this one braced his rifle and halted Zenos’ downward thrust at the wrist. The pair grappled while the last free-standing soldier lined up a shot.

Bang! The Atilonian that struggled with Zenos crumpled to the ground, his compatriot had missed. Zenos felt that Atilonian’s burst of fear as his trembling hands tried to rack another shot. A reptilian-eyed, blood-crazed maniac had appeared from the hills and dispatched his whole platoon. His heart plummeted and he lost hold of his rifle, his own small eyes were locked by the diamonds of the predator.

[Target is dead. Combat has ended.]

[Knife Proficiency Raised from 20 to 24.]

[You have gained Experience. You have leveled up.]

[Seven level ups are waiting for you.]

[Quest Completed.] a new prompt read. [You have one reward waiting.]

Zenos cleared the prompt with his hand while he panted for air. Adrenaline surged through his veins, kept him upright, but he had taken real damage and his healing hadn’t kicked in. He fell on his knees in pain and exhaustion. His last rondel fell to his side and he clutched his chest for relief.

It was a small blessing that the storm finally relented. The thick clouds that wrapped the mountain parted and a city appeared in a distant inlet, dominated by a tall tower. Then, Zenos heard a roar, and turned his head up to the sky. So focused on his fight, he’d assumed that the flash and bangs he heard overhead were the cacophony of the storm, but the rain became a drizzle and the sounds grew louder.

A ship that sailed the sky passed down through the clouds. It followed the slope, just above the trees, and navigated toward the city. Parts of its hull were scorched or burning and balloon bags that kept it afloat seemed to sag, but its enormous propellers roared on. Zenos saw a flash of light, heard the roar of a cannon, and a glowing bead like a droplet of hot lead drooped over the inlet city.

That distant tower was gone in a burst of fire and smoke. Metal wings, like paper-men that children would fold, flew down alongside the flying ship. Orange-colored bullets flew between them and one caught fire.

Zenos’ chest shuddered. Blood splattered the ground ahead of him. [Your HP was reduced from 80 to 60. Your chest was hit for 20 lethal damage. You have one stack of bleeding.] The once-emperor turned his head and searched the hill. There was a blue-coated boy beside a tree, he chambered another round. A slim smile appeared on Zenos’ face.

[Your HP was reduced from 60 to 0. Your head was hit for 60 critical lethal damage.]

Good aim.

[You Died]