The villagers had whispered about a nearby dungeon. It was a cave system where the villagers used to collect mushrooms, but no one had entered it in months due to a goblin infestation. In Realm of the Fallen Gods Online, William had stormed dungeons like this thousands of times. He cleared this very starter dungeon multiple times as a newbie Holy Paladin as part of a group. He knew the layouts, the traps, the exact attack patterns of the bosses. All of it was on rails.

  With his stomach full and his stamina at close to 100%, he approached the cave entrance, a yawning maw of jagged stone that smelled of mildew and decay. Other than the smell, it looked about the same as before. The wind whipped through the entrance, carrying with it the tang of something wrong. That wasn’t like the previous version of the game; odours were something the VR technology still struggled with.

  William gripped the hilt of his sword. “This’ll be easy,” he reassured himself. In the game, he could’ve killed a mini-boss in seconds with a few slashes with a macro. “I don’t need any Skills for goblins. Maybe killing a few will fix my system?” he hoped. “What the hell, I need a pee. That’s not part of the game.” He’d felt the sudden urge to urinate.

  Two minutes of fumbling with his armour later. “Ahh. That’s better.” He looked down. “At least I’m anatomically correct, and there’s no blue.” He shook his head and finished up before entering the dungeon.

  The first goblin ambushed him within seconds of entering the cave. Wielding a rusty dagger, the vicious little thing lunged from a side tunnel. Will swung his sword in a wide arc, expecting the usual scripted dodge. The goblin sprinted to the side, its eyes bright and calculating. It ducked under the swing and countered with a dagger slash across his shoulder.

  “Damn it!” His raid armour protected him, but that shouldn’t have happened. Holy hell, is it thinking? More goblins attacked, and his decade-plus gaming instincts kicked in. Dodge, attack, retreat, and repeat. A dozen goblins in, and he received a notification.

  [XP: +1]

  He smiled as he cut down another goblin. I’m getting XP for these? As a level 200 player, he shouldn’t gain XP from these low-level mobs. He checked his interface.

  [SYSTEM ERROR: Incomplete Interface]

  XP: ??/??

  Stamina: 96%

  No change. This wasn’t an unexpected result. Until there was a new level cap, players would receive XP notifications, but they’d have no impact. Most players turned these notifications off, but with the interface broken, he’d have to endure them.

  [XP: +1]

  Will had killed another dozen weak goblins. He sighed at the wasted XP.

  For a time, he massacred the weak goblins, receiving half a dozen [XP: +1] notifications. Then the goblins adapted to his simple tactics by flanking, feinting, and coordinating their attacks. They were tiny, weak creatures by dungeon standards, yet every move felt alive and dangerous.

  His first real fear clawed at him since waking to this new, realistic version of the game. He pressed forward anyway, swinging with all his strength, cutting down another goblin. Every strike he landed left him winded; his stamina sapped faster than he could recover it. The cave walls were narrow, his armour scraping against the stone as he delved deeper.

  [Warning: Minor Fatigue 75%]

  A half-dozen [XP: +1] notifications later, and a larger goblin emerged from the shadows; it was a brute wielding a thick log as a club. Will recognised it; this was a trivial monster to slay before moving on to the real boss fight. He’d memorised its simple attack pattern: swing, pause, swing again.

  William managed to block the first swing, the force driving him back more than expected. Pain throbbed across his ribs, and the wind was knocked out of him as the next blow caught him in the side. The creature hadn’t paused before its next attack.

  He staggered, his vision narrowing from the pain. “Damn it! I need a shield.” He’d fought thousands of these enemies in the game; for a dungeon like this, he’d wield either a mace or a bastard sword while carrying a shield.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The monster adjusted, hesitating, feinting, striking at opportunities that shouldn’t exist. It was even grinning, like it held true intelligence beneath its ugly features.

  William pictured his [Divine Shield] forming—it would absorb some of the hits—but nothing happened. Every skill, trick, combo, and macro was useless here. I can’t rely on the old game mechanics. I have to fight for real. Breathing hard, he stepped back and dropped into a defensive stance. He ignored the patterns he’d memorised. Instead, he studied the goblin’s eyes, its subtle movements, the twitch of its muscles. Then he struck, not with the speed of a macro, but with careful, deliberate timing.

  The brute blocked the attack, but staggered back. William pressed the advantage, swinging again while dodging a counter. His sword forms were sloppy, and sparks flew from his golden sword as he clipped the stone floor. He grunted as the vibration from the weapon travelled up his arms. Sweat stung his eyes, every movement drained him of stamina, and the adrenaline burn in his gut was taking its own toll.

  Another goblin attacked from behind. Will spun, avoiding a dagger through his side, the rusty blade leaving a shallow scratch on his raid armour. As he fought more goblins, fatigue like chains wrapped around his limbs, his armour pressing down on him as heavy as stone.

  [Warning: Major Fatigue 50%]

  And yet, he survived. Bruised and panting, he felled the brute goblin, his sword gutting the creature; its intestines and the accompanying stench spilt out over the cave floor. The smaller goblins scattered, squealing like piglets while retreating deeper into the dungeon.

  [XP: +5]

  William’s hands shook as he leaned on his sword. God, that stinks. He covered his nose with a gauntleted hand and tried to catch his breath. This is nothing like it should be. I thought I was a god here.

  He knelt on one knee for a moment, pressing a hand to his chest and tasting copper on his lips. The first boss room lay ahead: a massive chamber, carved with enchanted runes he remembered from a cutscene, which glowed in the dim light.

  William considered heading back to Brindlecross. He checked his broken interface; the only change was to his stamina, which was a little below 50%. If I rest too long or leave, they’ll all respawn! He felt that clearing the first boss would gain him something important. He pushed himself to his feet. “I can do this.”

  In the previous iterations of the game, it had been a scripted encounter. There were waves of weak goblins attacking on a timer to pester the party as they took down the HP of the main boss monster. It was a set of predictable attack cycles with a guaranteed loot drop at the end, an easy first dungeon for newbies.

  Will wasn’t sure what awaited him now. Every instinct screamed caution and to head back to Brindlecross before he lost his life. But pride and the belief that this was still only a game pushed him forward. “I’m the best goddamn Holy Paladin in the game.” He gripped his sword tighter, his muscles trembling, and he stepped towards the chamber.

  William had been featured in gaming magazines, popular podcasts analysed his build and fighting style, and advertisers paid thousands of credits just to have him mention their products. He was the best, and he knew it.

  The smell of rotten meat was overwhelming; goblin remains in various states of decay littered the cave floor. He gagged at the smell and the grotesque scene that wasn’t supposed to be part of the game. He entered the chamber and noted a distinct lack of enchanted runes; it was a large cavern with a scattering of stalactites and stalagmites adorning the ceiling and floor.

  The boss stirred before him. It was an enormous lizard monster, its scales shimmered like obsidian, and its eyes were bright and alive. Not an animation loop and not predictable. It roared and, without further warning, charged him, knocking aside a pile of discarded bones.

  Will raised his sword in time. The impact knocked him backwards, his armour grinding against stone, his teeth clattering together as he slid across the cavern floor. Pain lanced down his spine, his vision blurred, and for the first time since he’d started playing, he feared death. It’s not real, he reassured himself while remembering his body was safe inside his gaming pod and the developers had messed up the pain settings.

  He flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword. The sensation of holding it and feeling its true weight after hundreds of hours of simulated swings in the VRMMO reminded him: this new realism update had rules he didn’t yet understand. His previous meta-knowledge of the game could only take him so far.

  Yet, despite the fear, a spark of excitement lit within him. He’d faced deadly raid bosses before and had overcome game mechanics that had crushed ordinary players. Like many gamers, he’d imagined what it would be like to live and fight in his favourite game, and now he’d get to find out without the risk of dying. He shook his head. I’m overthinking. It’s just a realism update, I’m not in danger. He smiled as excitement raced down his spine. No oversized gecko is going to kill me.

  If this upgrade obeyed physics and logic, he’d learn how it all worked and not only survive it, he’d own it.

  “Bring it on, you cheap ass Godzilla wannabe!” William stepped forward.

  Stellar Vessel Draconis last night. Got to the start of chapter 3 before having to do some work (stupid work). If you like the idea of a sentient dragon spaceship, go give it a try the first 2 chapters are good. I like the end of the first chapter.

  Stellar Vessel Draconis? :)

  Chapter 004 [Game Notification: Absorb Into Core? Y/N]