1 Shock

"Peh, a replacement stepping stone? What a waste of time."

A cloaked man twirled a dagger between his fingers as he stared down at his opponent.

"It's honestly a dirty mark on my name that you managed to cheese that win last round. Lucky prick."

The arrogant speaker half-heartedly tossed his knife at his enemy, but the weapon was easily dodged.

"Just give up and die, trash. Do you really think Europe can stand against any other region this year?"

A fire lit in his opponent's eyes, and the speaker had to back away as the enemy charged him.

A few daggers shot out from the arrogant man's robes as he dodged the furious European's attacks, scratching the enemy player's skin and causing his health bar to start falling.

Outside the battle, outside the world they were in. A stadium packed with thousands of people collectively held their breaths as they watched the battle.

"It's… it's not looking good, folks. Eric the Red might've snuck past and taken the previous round single-handedly, but it's only tied up at 1-1 now, and this is a best of 3! If we don't take this round, it's all over, but if we somehow win…"

The announcer's eyes drifted to the other three members of the European team, but his head sank in disappointment.

The game mode was fairly simple- two teams of four, each with an AI guardian knight to assist them. Whichever team's AI knight died first would lose.

A simple game of protect the president.

The AI knights weren't just useless ornaments, though. Between the AI and any randomly picked professional player, it was a toss-up which one would come out on top.

It was why it was so shocking when last round when a random, completely unknown substitute player from Iceland somehow assassinated that powerful AI, all while it was guarded by a team of American players.

Europe's hope of finally making it to the winner's bracket of a world final was equally matched by their disappointment as they watched three of their players, assisted by their AI knight, losing against just three American players, without the American AI there to assist them.

A 4v3, and the four were losing.

"The only hope left is Eric the Red! Can he somehow clutch a win against USA's legendary assassin player, Darknessfour?"

Just a glance at the broadcast could tell anyone the answer to that.

No.

Not only was Eric's health already dropping down into the red, but his opponent was still at over 80% HP, and the American knight AI was still missing.

Still, no one in the stadium gave up hope.

"Eric! Kill that arrogant bastard!"

In the game, Darknessfour chuckled as he continuously dodged attacks.

"Come on, man. I thought you would be more fun to fight than this, but you just keep running at me. If you wanted to be a berserker so badly, why didn't you just play as one? You wouldn't even need to change your name!"

Eric the Red's face remained defiant as he continued running after his enemy, daggers slicing through the air as they dove for his foe's throat.

Darknessfour moved to block his strikes, but the trajectory changed at the last moment, and the blades bit into the American's flesh.

"Tch."

Darknessfour backed away, putting a few meters distance between himself and Eric the Red.

"Crazy bastard, your reflexes are good. If you had a bit more of a brai- OI!"

He had to hurriedly dodge a dagger that came flying at his throat mid-sentence, and Eric charged forward in the next moment.

'Heh, this is what I mean. No brain.'

Just as Eric the Red got within a meter of his enemy, a knightly figure jumped out from a tree on his right. Without taking his eyes off his target, the Icelander lunged into the incoming attack from the AI.

Instead of being impaled on the knight's sword, Eric's random jump into the attack instead caused him to run into the knight's shield.

The already heavily-injured assassin's health dropped even further from the impact, and he was thrown into the air, catapulting toward Darknessfour.

'How the fu-'

Eric the Red twisted mid-air, a crimson glow igniting around him.

Countless previously unactivated buffs sparked up as he dove into the unprepared Darknessfour, his daggers slashing through his foe's neck.

The direction of the cut reversed just before his knives left the enemy's throat, cutting again and doubling the damage.

Without even having a chance to react, Darknessfour's previously almost full health bar evaporated.

The previously cocky player's mouth hung open as he dissolved into motes of light, and his character disappeared from the battleground.

Eric the Red immediately turned around and launched the same attack combo against the AI knight, his daggers lopping off massive chunks of its health bar. Every attack it tried launching back at him, he dodged with similar precision to Darknessfour's dodges before.

The entire packed stadium sat silently, their jaws agape.

One moment, all hope for their region was lost.

The next, Eric 1-shotted the enemy's star player and demolished the AI knight.

"We… we won? We actually won! It's been three years, we finally won a game at a world tournament!"

The crowd finally came to their senses, and the stadium erupted into cheering.

Up on the stage, a man in his late twenties stepped out from a VR pod, then walked over to where his teammates were also departing from their pods.

"Yo, I told you guys to put me in earlier."

"Bjorn! You just killed the best assassin in the Americas! Darknessfour is a legend!"

Bjorn, the pilot of the Eric the Red account, couldn't keep a wide smile off his face.

"Peh, it's just a legend. We'll be stomping over a few more of those on our way to the world finals!"

The group of four European players were joined by a few of their org's staff members as they started heading back off of the stage.

An unfamiliar assistant handed Bjorn an energy bar, and he munched on it as he listened to his teammates' praise.

"Bjorn, that was amazing. I'll see about getting you a spot on the main roster, or at least having you on for the next few games."

Bjorn opened his mouth to thank the coach, but a sudden pain struck his chest.

'W- wha-?'

Bjorn doubled over, clutching at his throat as the pain moved upward.

"Bjorn? Are you okay?"

The Icelander suddenly started heaving, and a blood-red jet of vomit shot from his mouth. The half-eaten energy bar slipped from his fingers, falling onto the ground. Moments later, his body followed it, collapsing onto the floor.

"Bjorn! Speak to me!"

He could faintly feel hands gripping his face, but everything started to go numb, and darkness started encroaching on his vision.

"Hold on! Help is coming!"

Even the frantic voices around him started to fade away.

"I think he was poisoned! Who gave him this?"

The world went dark.

…

…

The low drone of a TV echoed calmly through a homely living room, accompanied by a soft snoring sound.

Bjorn slowly opened his eyes.

The previously 29-year-old man- now at the end of his teens- whirled around, his hands reaching for his throat.

The searing pain was gone.

'Wha- what was that?! We won the game, then something was happening to me… poisoned…'

Bjorn shook his head.

'I must've been dreaming.'

When he looked around, though, more panic started swirling in his mind.

He wasn't in the apartment room he'd gotten used to in the last few years.

This was his childhood home.

And sitting next to him, asleep on the recliner was his father, whom he hadn't seen in almost a month.

'What?! Dad isn't bald anymore?!'

Peering at his father's face, he confirmed that he wasn't hallucinating. He looked exactly like he had in the past.

"... And in the latest gaming news, the groundbreaking 'Grandiunon' is set to release to the public next week on Monday. Dedicated gamers have already…"

'In a week? But it was released almost ten years ago… Wait…'

After taking one more glance at his father, Bjorn rose to his feet and headed over to the restroom. Looking up into the mirror, he confirmed his suspicions.

'I look young again… have I somehow gone back in time?!'