The crack of gunfire echoed through narrow alleyways. The scent of smoke and metal lingered thick in the air.
Arga pressed his back against the crumbling wall, breathing hard. This wasn't supposed to be real. It was just a game.
Just a game.
But the blood dripping down his arm felt real. The sting in his leg where a stray bullet had grazed him — that was real too. Even the weight of the assault rifle in his hands, the sweat sticking to his skin under the combat vest, the screams in the distance... all of it.
He peeked around the corner. Footsteps. Two hostiles. He aimed, held his breath, and fired.
Bang. Bang.
One down. The other ducked. He was fast.
"Target eliminated. +100 points."
The voice echoed in his head. Not from speakers, not from headphones. Inside.
That voice again.
"Complete the mission, Arga."
Arga's grip tightened. He didn't know what the mission was. He didn't even know where the hell he was — not exactly. One moment he was in his bedroom, mouse in hand, headset on. The next, his screen flashed white, and…
He was here.
Inside the game.
And if he didn't figure out the rules soon, he wasn't getting out alive.