CHAPTER 1: I Hate Cartoon Turtles

Two warriors stood upon a hill overlooking a grand battle of many races, there were two alliances having a large scale battle below and their cries filled the night air with their power. A turbulent wind brushed forward with the smell of death lingering in the air even though the battle had not started. Crows had already gathered overhead, waiting for the flesh to fall for their next meal. Their hungry eyes staring down at the battlefield like a tide of black shadows swirling in a vortex with a mighty caw.

The Scourge Alliance lead by the Orc General Hack'rah, challenged the Golden Legion Alliance founded by the Elf Sniper Ringwood. A line of gold, black, and red filled the area like a chasm of death and chaos. These two were in a constant state of war with each other, two groups that would never feel at ease until the other was eradicated from this world.

Weapons slammed to the ground making the earth rumble beneath them as they hyped themselves up for the hell that would befall the land as their enemy's body would be piled like mountains. Orcs letting out primal yells of hunger, they were the race of war and destruction. They were the main force of the scourge, numbering in the thousands all of them with their muscles bulging and drool dripping down their jaws. Horse choppers were rusted and dull but they were never meant to be sharp in the first place. The heavy weapons more meant to bash and crush the bodies of their foes, with the added weight of the lead rings the orcs themselves could barely lift them.

A group of goblins ran behind them with long daggers that slid perfectly through someone's rib cage, allowing them to take out fallen foes. Their short bodies and large oversized heads made their movements almost comical, but their brutal efficiency made them nothing to laugh at. Ripping through their enemy's bodies then taking trophies, usually grabbing fingers or other things and jamming them into their waiting mouths.

Lastly, the Kobolds being more cunning than powerful with ropes and hooks at the end to catch the armor of their enemies bringing them into the swing of their counterparts. Dragging their foes through the battlefield as their allies bashed and stabbed into them or strangling them with the ropes, seven or nine of them ganging up on a single person. Howls filling the battlefield to gather up and direct more of their kind to gang up on rather tough does.

Their general, a large red Orc sat upon his horse, yelled out instructions for each unit with his loud rolling voice like thunder. He was the North's best micromanager, able to control the flow of battle with an iron fist. Even though his leadership skills were without fault he didn't invest much into his body, but he was an impossible foe to assassinate with his thick layers of interwoven armor. His wealth was what lead him to victory, brutal taxes on his people lead them to poverty which he supplemented with war funds pillaged from their foes. This leads his people to be in a constant state of war and hunger knowing that their next meal would be paid for by corpses.

The Legion seemed to be less controlled than the Scourge, many of their men flowing like waves upon the tide. Their numbers outweighed the opposition by at least 3 to 1, but there were some elites among their groups. Many people weren't warriors in the Legion, the people were taken to hiding and barely able to hold a sword. This was the last stand though, a fight that would determine the winner of thousands of fierce battles, so every man was needed.

The Dwarves being the smallest in number held a steady line, their shields making a moving wall of death as the gunner dwarves shot their short ranged cannons. This ended up being a line that steadily moved forward before having to move back to meet where the line was stuck. If they moved too far out their line would be swarmed from every angle making their shields worthless.

The Elves themselves stood back, arrows weaving through crowds like a thread through a needle's eye. They never stayed in one place, always showing up where the line was struggling to make a show of force with a rain of arrows. Their main targets were the kobolds that kept dragging men from the frontlines into the other side of the battlefield.

The humans, though numerous, were not of any specialty so few were excellent, and the ones that weren't served as meat to stand in front of swords. Many of them used vile methods such as using their allies as shields while they moved in to strike a killing blow, seeing their allies as a worthy sacrifice to strike at the orcs. A few stood out in their fields, but humans were known for the unpredictability and their ability to fuse many fighting styles into one.

There were no orders to be served to the troops as the general herself was shooting down her enemies from near the frontline. You could tell she waged war in the front, inspiring her forces to be better by just being there. There was no reason to give orders in her mind if she could kill hundreds of Orcs isn't that inspiration enough for victory?

Battlecries spewed forth, and several people could be seen waiting in the back lines only going out to reinforce where it was needed. These were heroes, people who had explosive growth and the best of them could wade through armies with only scratches. The two generals themselves were heroes but were a higher tier called Tide Heroes, those who created castles and armies instead of focusing solely on themselves. For every hundred heroes only one would be able to create a castle as they required an exorbitant amount of resources.

How many would give up advancing themselves even further to create an army?

These two, however, were considered tied for number three as the most dangerous people to fight as both of them were as powerful as normal heroes and had an army. They had never quarreled before to this extent so no one knew which was more powerful, this battle was to settle that argument and make sure the other never saw the light of day again.

Ranked second was Scarlet The Headhunter, though she wasn't a Tide Hero she had minions, having tamed a spawn point for spiders. The way that she moved, with her god tier boots that allowed her to teleport five feet with only a second cooldown made her an impossible to kill knife that could take down generals with ease. Her nickname the Headhunter was a testament to her skills as it was said that anyone's head she went after would end up off their shoulders. She was an assassin for hire but never asked for money just equipment from those she killed.

Ranked first was Crowley the Betrayer, a Tide Hero that always used tricks and ambushes to his advantage. Any place he taught he greatly changed the terrain of the battlefield with the monsters he had behind him. He was once human, which is why they called him The Betrayer as he was now allied with the insectoid race, the Plague as they ate and infected their hosts as their name suggested. He had taken upon their infection and mastered it to command their troops.

Sadly for the Alliance and the Legion, the two warriors staring at their battle were exactly Crowley and Scarlet. They had both come together for mutual gains, hungrily looking at the equipment of the two generals.

"The Shield of Huntress is mine, he should not have stepped upon my prize. I'll take the Helm of Thor's Wrath as compensation for my trip." The woman dressed in a red gown sat upon two spider legs that came out of her spine, watching the fight bored. She was of the same race as Crowley but she started off this way.

"The Boots of Water's Stride and the Belt of the Frost Giants are mine." A man stood tall, his eyes had a soft red glow behind them, his body hidden behind large wings that wrapped around him like a cloak. On his head was a wide-brimmed fedora or a monster hunter's hat.

Scarlet gave him a sideways glance and frowned, "Every time I see you, you look more and more like some rebellious teenager."

"I am a teenager though, Grandma Spider." Crowley didn't like his age being pointed out, and by the scowl on Scarlet's face said she didn't either.

"I'm only in my late twenties!" She huffed, her eyes squinting at Crowley dangerously.

"Forty is very late twenties." Scarlet touched her weapons but shook her head, this squabble wasn't worth not having Crowley's help. As much as the rumors were exaggerated, she could not just murder either of these two Tide Heroes when their armies were about, especially with other heroes by their side to protect them.

"So how do we do this?" She looked to the battlefield. "This place only allows twelve thousand resources to be deployed."

Resources were considered one hundred gold coins, or the equivalent for races that don't use currency like the plague who used biomass. This was a strict rule of the land so bigger armies didn't just crush their way through the land with gold and resources. The limit of an attack is based on the power of the castle that you were attacking, non-castle battles had no such restrictions.

"Leapers and Spines mostly, followed by Brain Maggots from the sky. Remember I had to deploy at the same time as them, so the only way for them to think this is only a two-person battle was to deploy things that you can't see at first glance." Crowley's eyes scanned the sky that had a few clouds in it, no one but him knew that they weren't natural at this point. Others were not informed when someone joined an attack but they could not ally themselves with each other, the fight would not stop until only one side stood or a truce where the opposing army would seriously lose out was arranged.

"Brain Maggots? Ah, so that's why you want them to kill each other so much first. Nasty plan, where are the Leapers?"

"In the front line, with their natural invisibility, they are making sure that the battle stays a stalemate for as long as possible. Plus with both of their limited resources their stealth detection is around their leaders so the safest place is in the front line." Scarlet nodded at Crowley's words.

"Even with this, you'll have a hard time killing the Heroes both sides have, even with my help I can only manage probably ten or so." This was of course if she got a significant distraction, which considering Crowley's troops she would get one.

Crowley smiled, "That's what the rain is for."

Scarlet fearfully looked at the clouds above them and widened her eyes. "A chimney? Isn't that directly going against the treaty set in place between us and the Golems?"

A Spore Chimney was considered a weapon of mass destruction as it would fill an area of one thousand miles with spore clouds. These clouds could not only infect people with the Plague's DNA changing virus but create death scarabs in the body which would rip their way out of the body when the host died. Even if they didn't die it caused the person's vitality to drain quickly until it was cured, usually by heating up the body to over 150 degrees, causing serious burns.

"No, no chimney, just two Spore Cannons and a little bit of ingenuity." The Spores in the cannons only produced scarabs and didn't spread the virus so they weren't considered as bad. Plus their infection point was only ten miles and had to be aimed like a cannon only hitting targeted areas.

The Golems needed souls to make more of themselves, and the Plague only needed the bodies to reproduce so there was much trade between the two. Mostly a trade of materials for food since for the Plague rare stones, and metals were next to useless but food could make more troops. Crowley was planning on making a chimney, to be honest, but he wanted instead to mark his name down in history as a General, not a murderer.

He started walking down the hill as the rain started falling down, raining spores and maggots down on the unexpecting armies. The dark aura spread out heavily around him, the masters of the Plague all had to have outstanding psionic powers. Crowley was a master of mental attacks that left his enemies dazed and confused, often misjudging ally for enemy.

The Plague army was never an army about massive strength, though some of its more terrifying creatures were brutes, it was all about trickery and deception. At least this was the way Crowley saw it, every person who controlled a Plague army ran them differently, and because of the customizability of each troop, you could do anything with them.

The Plague was a creature that could evolve rapidly by stealing the evolutionary paths of anything they eat. This wasn't limited to just one individual, a Leader or several others store the information of the DNA and can pass the upgrades to any in his control. This made every commander a unique being, and every army a unique problem to deal with.

Crowley hated the spotlight but today was about fame, so he would show himself right before the true battle started. He could already sense the new units under his command with each step, a smile creeping up his face. He knew he would crush his opposition this time, not in the flames of war but in the chaos of a slaughter.

Once he was halfway down the hill he kicked off of the ground, his wings spreading out as he glided most of the way to the battlefield. His outfit was unique, and the large bat wings demanded attention so soon both armies made a temporary truce, backing away from each other. All eyes were on The Betrayer, Crowley, and fear was seen on both generals as they knew that he would only show himself when he has victory in his grasp.

"I offer you all but one chance. Just wave your white flags, get out of your stance. Surrender now, or prepare to fight." He wishes he had a cat with him to say the last line, but he simply took out his two kukris. As if on cue the rain started to fall obscuring their vision of the winged intruder.

Both generals had the same idea and had their armies pull away from each other rushing to the man. That, of course, is when all hell broke loose on the battlefield.

The limited sight of both armies was cut off even more as the rain hit the ground turning into heavy fog, there were terrible screams coming from all parts of the battlefield once their vision was blocked. Bodies believed already dead started getting up, their terrifying weapons striking at their former enemies causing chaos in the limited sights of the two armies. Each side thought that the other had allied with Crowley to finish off the other.

The short-lived treaty of the two sides broke down in a mere second when the Scourge started cutting down the Legion again and vice versa. Legion started pouring forth to stab and bash their way through with force as they saw the Scourge had taken up arms against them again.

In the all-out chaos of the battle, no one had any orders. The generals not able to see their troops to guide them, and the screams of death and bloodlust drowned out everything else. Everything had turned into a bloodbath sending the battlefield into a frenzy of death!

These were the Brain Maggots, they could take corpses and turn them into weaker versions of the creatures they once were. Even though they are weaker, their equipment and weapons gave them serious bonuses so their fighting strength wasn't that much lower, plus they were numerous as both sides had been killing each other all this time.

The spores, on the other hand, created eggs inside of a creature so when they died a bunch of scarab-like beetles came out of their bodies with a bonus to attack and damage to the race they came out of. The usual egg rate was about a 20% conversion, but in this fog, it became nearly 50%. As the other races died, Scarabs flooded from their bodies using them to reproduce at an explosive rate. Once their numbers were high enough they swarmed enemies covering their whole body before quickly devouring them. This endless cycle ended up making waves of scarabs that would crash into people like waves of the ocean.

In the chaos there were invisible Leapers were cutting down the enemies, heads were being lopped off left and right. In the chaos, it was hard to tell they were even there, their bodies nimble but weak to most attacks. Many were accidentally killed by each army scaring them as a body appeared at the end of their blade when they swung at nothing.

The last of Crowley's troops surrounded the heroes underground, Sandvines swam through the ground like water. They weren't invisible so stealth detection didn't work, and the massive battle covered up the rumbling of the earth that usually gave them away. Their long tails would rip through the earth, grabbing and dragging them under to devour on their innards underground. Bodies covered in thick moving spines that made it so they could swim through the ground also made them tear through bodies with little effort. Like the Leapers they were glass cannons they required stealth to get kills.

Soon the ground was a living mass of scarabs, and body parts. The heroes were shocked silly by how quickly everything progressed. How fast their troops were slaughtered and scattered many of them throwing down their arms to escape the hellscape. There were hundreds of each race that just sat down and cried accepting their fate to be slaughtered at the hands of these monsters. Their minds and moral were at a breaking point, and all they needed was one push.

As the fog cleared the battlefield was now a graveyard with only heroes left alive at this point since they didn't come forward. They had feared the fog and only killed things that came their way, with their tight formations it was nearly impossible to these weaker troops to come in without overwhelming numbers. Sadly when there was nothing else obscuring their vision they saw that indeed, Crowley now had those overwhelming numbers he required.

There were fewer heroes now too since quite a few ran away from the battlefield. They have hired hands and they weren't paid enough to be slaughtered, mercenaries were always risky like that. In fact, running away during the fog sealed their fate as they lay dead, scarabs feasting on their remains.

"As I said, surrender now. You are outnumbered and outplayed." A sinister smile came upon Crowley's lips as he floated there. "If you surrender we will only take two items from each of you of my choosing, if not you will be killed indiscriminately. This offer only stands for the first side to give up."

He knew that facing both groups of heroes would be a hard battle and didn't want to take the risk. This was his last power play, after all, and he couldn't let uncertainties into account losing his advantage. He hoped that the Legion would accept his truce as they had two high-class wizards on their side with explosive fire magic. This would greatly reduce his troops, and he couldn't afford to lose so many.

The Legion was the first to respond, the elf general throwing down her bow. "We will back off, I hope you can leave our castle alone."

"Of course." Crowley bowed slightly, they obviously had more to lose in this battle so he expected them to back out.

'A Truce has been declared between the Legion and the Plague. Conditions have been preset, two items of Crowley's choosing from each of the living members of the Legion at time of truce.' A mechanical voice said into Crowley's ear.

'This makes things easier.' He turned to the Scourge who had very displeased faces, and suddenly their General's head fell off of its shoulders. A woman walking out from his shadow, cleaning her blade, Scarlet had finally shown herself. She hadn't been just waiting in the sidelines this whole time but had instead been laying down a trap for the Scourge, a mountain of spiders coming up from the ground to overwhelm the heroes. The rest of them fell easily, without their leader they were a chaotic bunch of heroes that couldn't win against the overwhelming numbers.

After it was over a high five was shared between the first and second most dangerous Heroes. Splitting the loot that they got Crowley and Scarlet both said their goodbyes, but Crowley watched her leave with forlorn eyes, she was honestly one of his closest friends he had in this world. He hadn't told her this was his last day in this world and loaded up everything he had in a gift bag, to be gifted to her a day later with a note.

"For my last time logging in, this will go down in history. Crowley the betrayer destroying the castle of the Legion and slaughtering the Scourge." As a large explosion came from the castle, Crowley reached up and took off the helmet connecting him to that world, and I opened my eyes.

'Beep… beep…' Medical equipment all around me beeped and flashed as I took off the VR headset, a sigh coming to my lips. The doctors had already told me I only have days to live, and once I died the legacy of Crowley would die along with me so I needed him to be remembered. It was my tribute to that world, as I had already talked my brother into making him a boss for high levels.

The infamous Crowley, the betrayer with the lore printed out so that it mapped his way to his legacy. That showed him as a tragic hero, not the villain that many perceived him to be.

The game I was playing, Legacy of the Five Stars was a game created by my older brother. He had created it himself to help pass the days while I was in the hospital, trying to give me another identity other than a dying teenager. It worked as Crowley was one of the most well-known pro-gamer in the world. I could practically live my life in the game unlike other people, but there was something always missing. My body could tell that every sensation was false, every situation simulated.

James was actually a hero of mine, always doing the impossible, graduating high school at the age of five, joining the military at seventeen, skirt-chasing across the world. He did what I would never be able to do, live a life outside of these walls.

It's been six years already and all medical resources have been exhausted, even my current doctor was the best in the world and yet…

Time was ticking by, I could only put my hopes on my current doctor as he never took upon cases that were boring. Apparently being seen by every doctor that had made a name for themselves over the past six years was enough of a thrill for him, especially now that he had a deadline.

There was simply no cure known to any medical journal, especially when every test that came back said I was in a hundred percent health. If it wasn't for the fact that every day another piece of my body didn't work, I'd almost believe them. At the moment, I could only move one arm and the muscles in my head, and neck.

Stretching out a bit with what I could I stared at the ceiling of my bed, grabbing at the controller for my bed to lift the top portion allowing me to watch TV. Flipping through the channels I saw my father, who had yet to come into the hospital to see me in six years.

I had failed him as a son.

That was the only conclusion I could come up with as I stared at the screen, this was the seventh corporate branch to be made for his electronics company Turtle Tech. A few people I recognized as shareholders stood by his side, I had been introduced to them long ago when I had been healthy.

With a smile on his face, he shook everyone's hands before giving a loud speech about the betterment of mankind through technology. He was a really vocal person in the community about the freedom of scientific research and how they shouldn't lower their standards for simple things as Morality.

The company was founded by my father when he made a fortune selling the designs for a combat-ready exoskeleton that was meant for heavy armaments. It was to turn a single person into a tank with less waste and more firepower. It was, of course, an instant success with the military, though many people said that his technology went too far.

When AI butlers and Cybernetic interfaces were also made by my father everyone shut their mouths though, worried to bite the owner of such a mind. Now if your house didn't have a single Turtle Tech electronic in your house then you simply did not live in a house. Even the poor had some of his bulkier later models that the government handed out to make things easier.

Even these machines keeping my body functioning were Turtle Tech, the cartoonishly drawn turtle that was the logo stared at me as if to mock me. It seemed to be saying, "You see how important your father's work is? Of course, he can't see you…"

With a sigh, I heard a familiar sound.

*Ding*

"A quest?" I looked at my VR headset and scrunched my brow. The headset wasn't on right now, there was no way that it could make noise.

"Crowley, your days are counting down and they only number in the several hours. In this time find out who your killer is. You have until you die to finish this quest." A female's voice filled the room, and I shook my head.

Had I been playing the game too long, or has my disease progressed this far?

"The countdown starts now." The female voice continued. "Your reward will be based on your ranking, this is a chain quest."

At the right side of my vision, much like in the VR headset, a display started showing counting down from 72 hours. I had three days to complete a quest in the real world?

Even if this was a delusion what do I have to lose?

As someone who's spent a lot of time in my memories, I had practiced many techniques to retain those memories. One such technique I feel into while I closed my eyes, a large library spanned in front of me, each book was a memory I had locked away.

Placing my hand on one of the books, I opened it to be filled with the smell of fresh cookies, the taste of cigarette smoke, the feel of itchy wool.

This was Christmas when I was five years old, my mother was still alive and had just baked ginger cookies. My brother had just left the military, he had picked up the habit of smoking from one of his friends, and my father scowled at him over the dinner table. The presents under the tree were mostly books and clothes, but there was one rather itchy wool sweater that my grandmother had made for me saying it was tradition to have an ugly sweater.