Altherion was not a game.
It was a world—massive, boundless, and ever-shifting. A universe where magic clashed with metal, where empires rose overnight and collapsed by dawn. Over billions of players logged in each day, seeking glory, riches, or simply survival. In Altherion, digital coins could buy real-world food. Legendary gear sold for fortunes. Players worked jobs, joined guilds, and led nations. Children dreamed not of becoming astronauts, but top-ranked Altherion champions.
The world had layers—floating continents, oceanic trenches filled with serpents and sunken fortresses, deserts of glass, and towers that pierced the stars. Some zones were peaceful sanctuaries. Others, brutal death traps. Every inch of Altherion pulsed with purpose.
But beneath it all—hidden deep in the Abyssal Zone—lay a forgotten dojo, carved into obsidian cliffs. Lightning danced overhead. The wind never stopped screaming. No birds, no beasts. Just the darkness.
And there, seated on a throne of broken swords, waited the final boss.
Velgrin.
Half-dragon, half-man, his form towered over most players. Dark grey scales coiled around his arms and neck. A long tail swayed lazily behind him, and twin horns curved from his skull like twisted blades. His eyes were slits of crimson, sharp with contempt. He wore ancient armor forged from the corpses of fallen champions—blacker than night and etched with burning runes.
He didn't just fight. He humiliated.
Velgrin had guarded the end of Altherion's story for ten years. Shadow Dragon Magic was his domain—dark energy that consumed light and twisted terrain. Every move he made carried weight. Every roar sent tremors across the dojo floor. He was coded to be unforgiving.
And yet... over 100,000 players had defeated him.
Not easily. Not without scars. But they had done it.
They came. They fought. They looted.
Then they left.
No one lingered. No one praised him. No one admired his battles. Velgrin respawned every two hours, destined to fall over and over again. To the world, he was just another boss drop.
To himself, he was a king unrecognized.
He leaned back against the dojo wall, eyes closed.
"Again and again... they come. Loud, arrogant, confident. And then they beg. Always the same script."
He chuckled coldly.
But then—a chill.
Not from wind or code.
Someone had entered the dojo.
Velgrin opened one eye. A single silhouette stood at the entrance. No footsteps echoed. No warning. Just presence. The stranger wore a deep, torn cloak, hiding most of his figure. Only his hand was visible, holding a staff unlike any Velgrin had ever seen. Twisted metal, pulsing with strange energy. It shimmered like a reflection in rippling water.
Velgrin stood, his tail flicking behind him.
"A hidden boss?" he asked, smirking. "Or another wannabe hacker? I've seen both."
The visitor remained still.
"You're bold, I'll give you that. But you'll break like the rest."
Still no reply.
Velgrin snarled. His wings burst open with a blast of black mist. Shadows crawled from the walls. His blade, Drakazuun, materialized in his grip—jagged, alive, hungry.
"Then come! Prove your delusion!"
The fight erupted.
Velgrin lunged, his movements thunderous, casting walls of shadow and raining fire. The dojo trembled. But the visitor... didn't flinch.
He moved like liquid steel, dodging every strike with inhuman precision. He didn't speak. Didn't chant. Just countered—fast, brutal, and surgical. Every hit from his staff felt like the world ending.
Velgrin's pride faltered.
Why isn't he slowing down? Why can't I read his moves?
His health bar dropped. He cast a heal. Shield. Nothing worked.
And then he saw it.
The stranger's wounds—gone. Regenerated. Instantly.
A chill ran down Velgrin's spine. "You're... a virus," he muttered.
His opponent didn't deny it.
"But viruses don't beat me," Velgrin growled. "I'm the firewall. The finale. The last wall."
It didn't matter.
With one final strike—a slash too fast to follow—Velgrin was split down the chest. His roar died in his throat. Blood sprayed across the dojo, coating his shattered blade. His body twitched. Collapsed.
Dead.
The visitor stood in silence. Then turned, and vanished.
The news spread in minutes. Screens across the world flashed the headline:
VELGRIN DEFEATED. UNABLE TO RESPAWN FOR 20 YEARS.
No one believed it at first.
But the servers confirmed it.
He was gone.
At least... that version of him.
In the dark, somewhere unseen, a screen blinked to life.
[PLAYER SYSTEM ACTIVATED][SYSTEM AWAKENING][WELCOME, VELGRIN / NULLEN]
A pair of eyes opened wide, confused, and human.
Velgrin was gone. But someone else had awakened.
Someone... named Nullen.