In the age when iron meets magic and empires rise upon the bones of fallen kingdoms, the world of Eden turns through its cycles of blood and rebirth. Four great continents drift upon seas both mundane and mystical. This is not the Eden of legend—not the pristine paradise sung of in ancient hymns. That world died long ago.

Once, gods and demons walked openly upon the earth, their war painting the skies with divine fire and infernal darkness. For millennia they clashed, wielding powers that reshaped mountains and boiled seas. Cities rose in a day through divine blessing, only to crumble by nightfall under demonic siege. Humanity, elves, dwarves, and all the children of Eden were but pieces on their cosmic board, pawns in a game whose rules only the immortals understood.

The great works of that age—flying citadels, weapons that could split the very fabric of reality, towers that touched the heavens—all were reduced to rubble and myth. Technology and magic intertwined to heights never seen before or since, only to be obliterated in the crossfire of beings who saw mortal life as little more than an afternoon’s entertainment.

Then, without warning, they left.

Some say the gods and demons grew bored of their eternal stalemate. Others whisper that they destroyed something fundamental, something that made Eden no longer worth fighting over. Whatever the truth, three centuries ago the immortals simply… departed. The heavens fell silent. The hells grew cold. And the mortal races found themselves alone in a world scarred by divine abandonment.

But Eden itself did not die.

The world-consciousness—that vast, incomprehensible awareness that pulses beneath stone and sea—stirred from its ancient slumber. For the first time in eons, it reached out, searching. Searching for new gods. Searching for those who might fill the void left by the departed. Some say this awakening gave birth to the dungeons, those twisted labyrinths that erupt from the earth like festering wounds, spewing monsters and treasures in equal measure. Others believe the world-consciousness seeks champions among mortals, testing them, preparing them for ascension.

Now, in Valdoria, the continent of a thousand flags, kingdoms and empires wage endless war. The Holy Empire of Luminar claims divine right over all, even as its cathedrals stand half-empty. The Ironforge Dominion of the dwarven holds burrows deeper, rebuilding what was lost. Elven enclaves guard their ancient forests with arrows and old magic. Demon-blooded tribes stake claims in the badlands. Beastfolk clans roam territories their ancestors held before gods walked. Fairy courts dance in hidden glens, playing games mortals cannot fathom. And in the shadows between kingdoms, dragons—those few who remain—watch and wait with eyes older than empires.

Humanity, stripped of divine guidance, has turned to what it knows best: ambition, ingenuity, and war. They rebuild the lost technologies piece by careful piece, rediscover the principles of old magics, and fight for every scrap of land and power. Kingdoms rise and fall within a generation. Dungeons claim entire regions, becoming death-traps and fortune-makers alike. Principalities forge alliances in the morning and betray them by evening.

This is Eden in its twilight age—or perhaps its dawn. A world of ruins and renewal, where ancient powers sleep beneath modern ambitions, where the search for new gods continues in ways both wondrous and terrible. The age of divine war has ended, but the age of mortal struggle has only begun.

And in this world of endless conflict and desperate hope, one young man named Alex will find his path carved not by the gods who abandoned Eden, but by the choices he makes in their absence.

...

I was eight when the car crash took them. Both my mom and dad died in that accident. Gone in an instant, leaving me with nothing but fragments of memories and a hollow ache that never quite went away.

My uncle took me in. For eight years, he gave me something resembling a home. Then a serial killer took that too. I was sixteen, standing at another funeral, staring at another casket, feeling that same hollow ache expanding until it consumed everything else.

The worst part? Is that, the bastard who killed him escaped. He had connections with higher officials, they said. Money changed hands, evidence disappeared, and justice became just another word for whatever the powerful decided it meant.

I was sixteen years old, and I had never felt so utterly helpless in my life.

That’s when something inside me crystallized into a single, burning purpose: revenge.

I needed to survive first, so I found work with the mafia. They didn’t ask questions about the cold look in my eyes or why a kid my age moved like he had nothing left to lose. They taught me to fight, to kill, to become the kind of person who could do what needed to be done. I took every job, did everything required to move forward. Morality became a luxury I couldn’t afford.

Two years. That’s how long it took me to find the killer and put a bullet between his eyes.

But my thirst for revenge didn’t die with him. It spread like poison through my veins, targeting every corrupt official who’d helped him walk free. For two more years, I hunted them down, one by one, crossing names off a list written in blood.

During those years in the underworld, I saw things that would break most people. Human trafficking. Torture. Children sold like cattle. I saw it all and felt... nothing. No urge to help, no righteous anger. Just cold, focused determination to complete my mission.

It wasn't until I'd killed the last name on my list that something changed. The revenge that had sustained me for years suddenly evaporated, leaving behind a void I didn’t know how to fill. For the first time since I was sixteen, I looked around and actually *saw* the world I’d been moving through.

I saw the victims. The broken. The helpless—people just like I’d been.

I decided to help them. To kill the rot in society the way I’d killed the rot that destroyed my life. If the system wouldn’t provide justice, I would.

By twenty-three, I’d built my own organization. My influence spread through every corner of the underworld like a spider’s web. I became powerful, envied, targeted by those who wanted what I had. I rescued people the officials ignored. I did the work they were supposed to do but were too corrupt or cowardly to attempt.

Money, power, sex—anything I wanted was mine with a snap of my fingers.

And yet…

By forty-eight, I had everything and nothing. No friends. No family. No one I could trust, no one who knew the real me beneath the legend. Most days, I didn’t think about it much. I’d tried everything life had to offer and grown tired of it all.

Everything except one thing.

A game called, “Become the God of Eden.”

I’d been playing that game for twenty-eight years. The most difficult single-player game ever created. You played as a nobleman conquering a world filled with dungeons, gates, monsters, kingdoms, and different races, all to ultimately become God. It was the only thing that still made me feel something.

I was sitting in front of my PC, deep into a campaign that had lasted ninety-seven in-game years—a goddamn miracle in itself—when the notice appeared.

**NEW EVENT STARTING**

My pulse quickened as I read the rules:

Player must clear all 5 L-rank gates.

Failure to clear the gates leads to end of game.

Reward: 50% control of the world.

Hidden reward (based on clear rate): ? ? ?

L-rank gates. I’d never even seen one before. My hands moved across the keyboard with practiced precision as excitement. An actual excitement, flooded through me for the first time in years.

A week passed in a blur. I cleared the third gate, then the fourth. The moment I emerged from the fourth gate, I knew something was wrong.

The land was burning.

**DUNGEON BREAK**

The notification flashed across the screen as monsters poured into the world, destroying everything in their path. My empire, the one I’d built over ninety-seven years, burned to the ground. My people, my knights, mages, soldiers, every race I’d united… gone.

**THE END**

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

I slammed my fist into the keyboard, then the desk, cursing at the top of my lungs. There was no time limit mentioned! I didn’t even get to attempt the fifth gate! Ninety-seven years, and I had to start from scratch because of some bullshit hidden mechanic?

Outside my door, I heard my bodyguards shift nervously. They probably thought someone was about to die. They weren’t wrong to worry.

Then the screen changed.

**CALCULATING HIDDEN REWARD…**

I leaned forward, anger mixing with confusion.

**CLEAR RATE: More than 20%.YOU ARE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER THE WORLD: EDEN**

“What?”

Before I could process what, I was reading, a blinding light erupted from the screen.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in an endless white room. No walls, no ceiling, no floor I could distinguish, just infinite white in every direction.

Then I heard it. A voice, not from outside but, inside my head.

"Do you want to become the God of Eden?".

"Who are you?" I demanded, spinning around to find no one. "Where am I? And what do you mean, God of Eden?".

The voice continued, patient and emotionless. "Eden is the name of the world, the game you play every day. You are selected because, you have cleared more than 20%. It's your hidden reward. Only a few races have reached the end, and whoever does is given a chance to enter the real world to play. If you survive and save the world, you can become its God. If you accept this offer, you will enter the world. Remember: once you enter Eden, you cannot return to Earth."

The real world, not just a game. I wondered should I accept it.

I'd read forum posts from players who swore that Eden felt too real, that the characters made choices independent of player input. I'd never believed them, but I'd secretly hoped. Some of those characters… I'd grown to care about them more than I cared about anyone in my actual life.

I thought about what I was leaving behind. No family, no friends. Just bodyguards paid to protect me and an empire built on blood and fear. I was in my late forties. Even if I stayed on Earth, I had maybe twenty or thirty years left. Probably less, given my lifestyle.

"I accept."

"I hope you will enjoy your new life adventure. Don't die in a few days, if you do, I'll have to find another player. So, survive longer and save the world." The voice suddenly disappeared.

"Wait—!" I shouted, because I have many questions now. Before I could even start my question. Another flash of blinding light cut off my words.

I woke up in a bedroom that looked straight out of the medieval period, exactly like the game. My head spun as I stumbled to a mirror mounted on the wall.

The face looking back at me wasn't mine.

Well, it was and it wasn't. Handsome, younger, with white hair that fell to my shoulders and striking blue eyes. Based on my height and appearance, I'd guess eighteen to twenty years old.

Twenty-eight years younger than my real body.

I touched my face, feeling smooth skin where wrinkles and scars used to be. My hands were unmarked, no calluses from decades of violence. But it had marks of hard work done by him.

A smile crept across my face, the first genuine smile I'd worn in longer than I could remember.

"Alright, Eden," I whispered to my reflection. "Let's see what you've got".

I looked around my bedroom and saw a blood stains on the sheet and some on my lips and cheeks. I could guess what happened here. Someone must have poisoned the original owner. I relaxed and sat down.

Suddenly a black cat jumped on the bed and started to talk. The cat said, " welcome, player no. 26,63,839. I'm your helper to help you survive in this world."

To be continued...