CHAPTER 1:Locked And Loaded

Pain.

That was the first thing AFK felt.

His entire body ached like he’d just been hit by a truck. His lungs burned, his chest heaving with short, panicked breaths. His fingers dug into the rough concrete beneath him, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

One moment, he’d been in his room. Streaming. Safe.

Now—this.

Gunfire.

Explosions.

Screams.

A battlefield.

AFK’s heart slammed against his ribs. His brain screamed that this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But every sensation—the scent of gunpowder and burning metal, the weight of the tactical vest now strapped to his chest, the rough texture of dirt and rubble beneath his hands—said otherwise.

He wasn’t in his chair anymore. He wasn’t home.

He was in a warzone.

“Ghost, you good?!”

AFK snapped his head to the side, his breath catching in his throat.

A soldier knelt beside him, clad in full tactical gear, gripping an M4 assault rifle. His face was concealed by a familiar skull-patterned mask.

Ghost.

AFK’s stomach dropped.

“No way.”

This was Call of Duty.

But that was impossible.

His mind raced, trying to rationalize. This had to be a dream. A glitch in his stream setup. Maybe he’d passed out mid-game, and his brain was processing some weird hallucination.

“Bravo Team, enemy combatants closing in! Get to the rooftop—now!”

The voice crackled in his ear, cutting through his confusion like a knife.

Then—

A bullet tore through the air inches from his face.

AFK dove to cover, instinct kicking in before his mind caught up. His back slammed against a crumbling concrete barrier, heart pounding in his ears.

The gunfire was relentless. The deep, bone-rattling BOOM of an explosion lit up the sky behind him, sending shockwaves through the ground.

This was too real.

And worse—

He was holding a gun.

AFK’s breath came in sharp gasps as he looked down. His hands were wrapped around the grip of an M4A1, fully kitted with a red-dot sight, tactical foregrip, and extended magazine.

It was heavy. Solid.

It felt real.

He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling over the trigger.

“Take the shot!” Ghost barked, his own rifle already locked on the approaching hostiles.

AFK hesitated.

His heart slammed against his chest.

These weren’t pixels. This wasn’t some lobby full of enemy NPCs. These were people. Soldiers. Human beings.

“Move, damn it!” Ghost snapped.

More bullets rained down. The squad was pinned. If he didn’t fire—they would die.

AFK’s breath hitched.

His mind screamed no, but his body moved on instinct.

He lined up his sights.

Squeezed the trigger.

The rifle kicked against his shoulder.

The first enemy soldier crumpled.

Blood splattered against the concrete.

AFK’s breath caught in his throat. His stomach twisted.

He had just killed someone.

But there was no time to process it.

Another soldier rushed forward. AFK’s hands acted before he could think—he adjusted his aim, fired again.

Another hit.

Kill confirmed.

His mind reeled, but his body—his reflexes—were calm. His hands were steady. His heart still raced, but the part of him that had spent years perfecting his aim in FPS games took over.

The battlefield around him blurred into focus.

The next enemy flanked left. AFK adjusted, fired—headshot.

He wasn’t just reacting anymore. He was anticipating. His awareness stretched beyond normal human limits.

This wasn’t just skill.

Something was changing inside him.

The enemy squad fell one by one. AFK’s movements became faster, sharper, cleaner. Every shot landed perfectly.

He felt like he had been training for this his entire life.

Then—

The world glitched.

A sharp flicker of light crackled through the battlefield. For a second, the entire environment wavered, like a corrupted screen. The sky warped. The buildings distorted.

Ghost didn’t seem to notice. Neither did the rest of the squad.

But AFK felt it.

A deep, underlying presence.

Like something—someone—was watching.

Then—

A whisper.

Cold. Mechanical.

“Level Up.”

AFK’s breath caught in his throat.

The weight of his rifle shifted in his hands. He felt stronger. More aware.

Like something inside him had just unlocked.

Then—