MMORPG: Surviving a Death Game with a Glitched System

[System integration initializing]

Ash’s fist hit nothing but air before his body began to falter.

"Who’s there?!"

Shrouded in the black mist, Ash frantically tried to regain even a modicum of motor control; however, his body was being subjected to a foreign will, moving in inhuman motions he couldn’t resist.

His form was molding and evolving from his human shell.

Without direction, it contorted and shifted impossibly, bent without breaking. Scales grew from nothing, and flesh dissolved into the air. Horns spawned on his head while his fingernails bent into a hooked shape.

Thankfully, the existential experience of humanoid mutilation was ephemeral; the painless breaths of change ceding, leaving behind only a mental strain — the inexplicability of conforming to an unfamiliar body, compounded by the mystifying world of flux he found himself in as his eyes adjusted.

[Welcome to Rite of Ruin, Champion of the Dragonkin!]

Ash, gripping at the nothingness shrouded by everything, thought back to the last thing he heard before his senses got flipped upside down and his self remade.

"I don’t get a choice in the matter... huh? What a sick joke."

Playing an MMORPG certainly wasn’t on his to-do list, nor something he’d ever be subjected to willingly...

But that statement of ’no choice’ definitely rang true after being transported inside of one.

However, even if he didn’t want to be here...

"I guess I got my answer."

Rite of Ruin was the next game he’d become the best at.

A sentiment that wasn’t arrogance, but merely a simple fact. To Ash, at least.

’If this is even a game at all...’

One thing was for sure though: it didn’t seem like he’d be getting back to streaming anytime soon.

’I doubt I’m the only player, right?’

A moment later, while letting his eyes drift around the fractured space, Ash learned that answer.

[System integration failed]

’Huh...?’

***

The faint cheers of the crowd simmered into reality as four of the five members of the Ravagers shot out from their chairs and tossed off their headsets.

"YES!"

"Is this real?!"

"Woohoo!"

They’d finally done it. After a long year of restless, energy-drink-fueled nights, mind-numbing scrims, and internal strife, the discordant crew had pulled it off. They’d won the biggest tournament of the most popular MOBA to ever grace Earth.

Stev, the vanguard of the crew, shouted:

"This feels damn good!"

They were now the thirteenth victors of the MDGC, Mythic Dominion’s Global Championship.

The team’s invader, Jae, a short, pale man with dyed white hair, jumped into the support’s arms with a shout. The two hopped like little kids pretending to be rabbits.

Eric, the man arm in arm with Jae, shouted:

"Now nobody can say shit!"

Yet, Jae’s cheery cheers only lasted but a moment, ceasing instantly the moment he glimpsed his detestable teammate. The man who still sat with his headset on, staring listlessly at the ’Victory’ screen.

Eric tilted his head at Jae’s odd expression.

"Huh, Jae?"

Pushing a confused Eric away, Jae’s smile faded in its entirety.

"Seriously...?"

Jae knew damn well what that apathetic look on Ash’s face meant.

"It wasn’t enough...?"

Biting his lip, Jung Jae-ho lunged forward and ripped the headset from Ash’s head, then dragged him to his feet while kicking away his chair.

"Seriously, what will it take for you to acknowledge us?!"

With an uncaring look in his eyes, Ash sighed as he let himself be pulled back and forth by the hem of his jersey. The lifeless ragdoll only stopping when others on stage noticed their squabble and separated them.

The crowd’s cheers morphed into loud confusion as the scene began to escalate.

Eric, lanky with curly black hair and glasses, pulled Jae away while Stev stepped in front of Ash.

"Whoa, whoa! Jae! Calm down."

Tentatively fighting his restraint, Jae tore his arm free and pointed at Ash.

"Calm down, Eric? Calm down?! We just won Globals, and this fucker still sees us as nothing!"

Ash wryly scoffed, then locked his amber eyes onto Jae’s brown irises. In a harsh tone, barely audible over the roaring crowd, he whispered:

"We?"

Jae gritted his teeth, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"You... I can’t believe I ever looked up to an asshole like you! That I even learned English to watch your streams!"

Thrashing around, Jae broke free from Eric’s restraint, pushed Stev out of the way, then threw a weak punch toward Ash that was deftly weaved. Carried by momentum, Jae tumbled forward. Ash lifted his foot high and pushed it into Jae’s back sending him faceplanting on the ground.

"Jae! Ash! What the hell are you two doing?!"

Squirming on the ground, Ash’s foot still on his back, Jae screeched:

"Eric?! Stev?! Carlos?! Are you three really going to defend him after all he’s put us through?! All of that horrid verbal abuse?!"

Stev pulled Ash away while Eric helped Jae to his feet while locking down one of his arms. Jae continued to fight Eric’s restraint, trying to go after Ash.

"I get he’s an asshole—"

Gazing out upon the stupefied crowd, Ash shook his head, then cut off Eric.

"Verbal abuse? What a lukewarm way to dodge and cast off the truth."

Tightly restraining Jae, Eric howled:

"Ash! For once in your life, shut the fuck up!"

"Are you seriously trying to tell me what to do after I went and satisfied your vain flight of fancy? How deliberately inept and untempered. Don’t pretend to be unaware of that truth, now."

Jae opened his mouth to respond, but the usually taciturn Carlos spoke louder, drowning out whatever Jae had tried to say.

"Fuck you, your ’truths,’ and the way you talk, Ash. Seriously, fuck you. Jae, ignore him. I already talked with Ronan; he’ll be gone after tomorrow."

A small smile shone from Ash’s lips.

"Wait, really...? What a horrid way to prove my point. You pathetic scrubs used me to win Globals and have now decided to revel in this hollow victory while ignoring the only reason it was obtained."

The coaches and staff of the arena joined the group separating Jae and Ash. However, before the two exited earshot of one another, Ash added:

"Jae... The only way you could impress me is by losing with me on your team. And, congratulations, you nearly managed to."

"You b—"

***

Sitting behind a desk with a stern look on his face, Ronan, the GM of the Ravagers, stared at problem number one. His eyes narrowed, causing a few new wrinkles to form at the edges of his face.

"Ashley..."

"I told you not to call me that. It’s even in that contract you begged me to sign."

Ignoring Ash’s annoyance, Ronan continued:

"Over and over, you’ve been warned for your toxic nature. But now, you’ve gone and done it."

Ash scoffed and shook his head.

"Gone and done what? Won the title you craved so badly? Saved your org from bankruptcy?"

"No. You initiated a fight onstage and violated the terms of the contract."

"I... initiated? How dumb— oh... oh-hoh, I see where this is going."

Ronan folded his hands over one another and leaned forward, hiding his lips behind the arch of his fingers.

"For violating the contract, future installments and incentives will be forfeited, and you are barred from ever participating in pro play again. Furthermore, Tempered Games, for your violence onstage and toxicity in-game, has permanently banned you from Mythic Dominion, as well as all games created under the Tempered banner."

Ash, despite the harrowing words slipping from Ronan’s mouth, simply laughed.

"So... that’s it? This was your intent all along, wasn’t it? Use me, then discard me in a way where I can’t strike back? Or perhaps you want to blackmail and negotiate me into cooperating with those four nobodies."

"I didn’t call you in here to argue or beg compliance, but merely to inform you of this most regrettable development."

Ash stared into Ronan’s eyes.

’Regrettable development...’

"What the hell are you even going to say to the fans? Especially the ones who witnessed the fight."

Ronan wryly smiled.

"The truth."

Ash stared blankly for a few stretched seconds.

"Ah, I see."

’That fight didn’t matter at all... this was going to happen either way.’

Shooting to his feet, Ash kicked over the chair he’d been sitting in.

He knew what Ronan meant. And he knew nobody would ever take his side. They never did. His truthful words of wisdom were laced with venom.

’If only they could see medicine is made of poison.’

"So, you’re going to spill my truth?"

"Naturally... you’ve given us plenty of it as fuel, Ashley Grave."

Clicking his tongue, Ash put his back to Ronan.

"Very well. I wish you luck in the future. God knows that without me, you’ll need it."

Barging out through the door, Ash didn’t even care to listen to the placid platitudes from Ronan he knew would come. Without a word, he marched to his room in the facility, gathered his belongings, and prepared for his flight home in a week.

A week later, coinciding with the time his plane took off, the files were released.

Everything he’d said to his teammates during scrims and around the facility had been recorded. There were even videos from CCTV of a few physical fights that had happened behind the scenes. Of course, they were spliced to make Ash look like the aggressor.

By the time the wheels of the plane touched the ground, even his biggest fans had converted their worship of him into hatred. The only ones who still supported him were those who hadn’t learned yet or those who found charm in his narcissistic behavior — seeing Ash more as a joke, a caricature of pride.

As Ash marched off the plane, he stared at the vibrating phone in his hand being flooded by a backlog of notifications, and turned it off.

"How sad..."

He could deny the allegations. Fight back. Call everything released a fabrication.

Yet, he’d done nothing but accept his fate in the last week.

Ash wasn’t one to struggle, nor was he one to care what others thought of him. Begging for forgiveness, apologizing, admitting wrongs...

It simply wasn’t in Ash’s nature.

Nor was it his nature to sugarcoat and lie. He said things as he saw them. If one was upset at his views, they were merely fools blinding themselves to ’the truth’... At least according to Ash.

’What am I gonna do now?’

Collecting his luggage, Ash left the terminal and began a long, quiet drive to his one-story house in the suburbs of Austin.

"I could go back to streaming."

There were definitely people who’d still watch him. And there were plenty more who’d hate-watch him. At least for the next few weeks, if he were to stream, he could make bank with all of the attention he surmised would be on him.

"But I don’t even have anything to stream now..."

According to Ronan, Tempered Games was going to ban him from Mythic Dominion. No official statement had been made yet, but Ash doubted it was a lie. And while he could probably bypass that ban to play, there was no way he’d be able to stream it.

"I guess I have to look for a new game..."

Ash had been the undisputed best player of Mythic Dominion for a long time... too long. Long enough that he’d lost hope of anyone ever managing to rival him. His dominance was so undisputed that, despite his pro play stint being merely a single year, with most of his time spent streaming the game’s ranked mode, he was still lauded as the greatest of all time.

"But what to play..."

’What game should I become the best at next?’

Ash turned onto the one-way street leading to his home, only to come face-to-face with the front bumper of a truck.

"Whoa, shit!"

Barely managing to swerve in time, Ash breathed a sigh of relief as the truck barreled past him. His eyes calmly drifted up until he stared at the truck in his rearview mirror.

’Idiots... this world is full of idiots.’

Shaking off the nerves from that close call and pulling into his driveway, Ash decided to save that decision for tomorrow. For today...

"I’m home..."

Ash spoke those words to the ghosts only he remembered as he slid past the lacquered oak door, locking it behind him.

All of a sudden, it felt like a small shock slipped through his body as he looked at the accent table against the wall of the foyer. On it was a sealed envelope. Written on it were red-inked words reading: To Ashley Grave.

"Did someone break in?"

’It’s a bit too early for that to be a death threat...’

Alarmed, yet showing none of his surprise, Ash whispered to himself:

"But I should probably change the locks... maybe even move."

Tentatively, Ash scoured the surroundings of his dusty home as he approached the letter addressed to him. Thankfully, there were no signs of anyone waiting for him. Nor was there any clear sign of forced entry — at least from what he’d seen.

Stopping next to the table, Ash took a deep breath, then confidently ripped it open and took out the folded paper that was inside. Quickly, he realized...

’It’s... a letter?’

To Ashley Grave: You’ve been selected as Champion of the thirteenth race, Dragonkin, in Rite of Ruin.

’Huh? Rite of Ruin? Isn’t that the MMORPG coming out in a month?’

As the first Champion, you will receive early access, unique benefits, and the right to lead your race! Good luck!

"Good luck?"

’What an absurd letter...’

Breaking into his home and leaving behind a letter telling him he’d been invited to play the early access of a game...

’How nonsensical. And besides—’

"I have no desire to play an RPG."

A hoarse voice whispered in his ear:

"The truth of the matter is... you don’t have a choice."

Ash spun around and blindly swung his fist as he and his home were swallowed by a tide of misty black.

[System integration initializing]

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