MMORPG: Surviving a Death Game with a Glitched System

Ash stared into the eyes of his one and only brother, Clear.

Well, they weren’t brothers in the truest sense, since they had both been adopted, but they were all the other had. And their bond ran much deeper than their absurd names.

"It’s not enough... It’s never enough for them, Ash!"

"Clear..."

Both had been dropped off at fire stations on the same day and subsequently adopted by the same pair of psychopaths who believed, in their own warped way, they were caring and loving toward Ash and Clear.

They wanted to prepare their boys for the real world.

But not the illusion the school system sold to children... the real one.

The one where corruption and bribery ran rampant and worth was decided by assets. The one where the corporate stairway was paved with bodies, not hard work.

Naturally, that meant Ash and Clear weren’t allowed exposure to the illusion. Their lives had to be curated. A perfect simulation of regimented hardship.

Clear, with tears in his eyes, shouted at Ash:

"All I ever wanted was to be free!"

Ash looked at Clear’s feet.

"You..."

Their parents had made them undergo rigorous studying nearly all the hours they were awake, while their "break" time consisted of eating, running, or lifting weights.

Bathroom breaks weren’t arbitrary. Instead, there were three set times a day when they were allowed to relieve themselves: right before bed, between 9:00 and 9:10 p.m., in the middle of the day between 12:00 and 12:10 p.m., or right after they woke up, between 5:00 and 5:10 a.m.

At least, they got those times if they performed up to standard.

If they ever lagged behind and failed to perform, they’d be stripped of even those basic rights one by one. Losing meals and bathroom time in lieu of studying.

And if they dared to have an accident, they’d be forced to clean it up with their bare hands.

Ash watched as the red pool continued to grow around Clear’s feet.

With a single tear falling from his eye, Ash solemnly spoke:

"You’re a failure."

"W-what...? Ash?! D-do you—"

Ash’s eyes drifted from the kitchen knife in Clear’s shaking hands to the fresh corpses of his adoptive parents who’d both been slaughtered by the thirteen-year-old prodigy they had forcibly created.

"How dare you fail."

Ash cried not because his parents were dead. Nor because his brother had killed them.

He cried because his brother had committed the ultimate failure.

And in his failure, Clear had murdered Ash’s dream of being the one to commit that failure.

’How dare you betray me.’

***

’Why am I...?’

Ash awoke to find the entire world shrouded in darkness.

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