[The evil faction is looking for you. Change locations within 5 minutes and meet with Heroic allies.]

His mind wandered for a few seconds, weighing the kind of chaos he could unleash by doing the exact opposite of what the system wanted. He could hide in a vent somewhere. He could slip outside and start running through alleys just to see who found him first. He could climb onto a rooftop and wave at the Evil faction. He could even sit in the lobby of this hotel and let the galaxy burn around him.

But something tugged at his curiosity. Not gameplay — the design itself.

'A million players in one server. Six hours of development. I want to see how well they built this thing. How it reacts. How the world shifts. How the factions coordinate.'

And the time limit of this mode was 3 hours. 1 hour and 15 minutes for the first phase, 1 hour and 15 minutes for the second phase, and 30 minutes for the last phase

He turned away from the quest marker and walked toward the glass windows that lined half the room. From fifty stories up, Nightcrest City sprawled beneath him — a futuristic knock-off of Astraeus City, neon veins running through buildings, skydrones moving like insects, and a massive shield dome sealing the entire arena world.

As he watched, a small explosion bloomed several blocks away — a puff of orange fire and black smoke rising into the sky.

A second later, sirens echoed.

Speeder bikes tore through the streets.

And a dozen silhouettes sprinted across rooftops like sparks flying off flint.

The event had officially begun.

Xavier exhaled lightly. "Let's see how they handle a manhunt this big."

He stepped out of the suite.

Immediately, four NPC security agents in dark suits straightened in formation around him, speaking into earpieces and scanning the hallways like they were guarding an actual political figure. Their movements were clean, sharp, surprisingly polished for something hacked together last-minute.

"Mr. Xavier, we must move," one of them said. "Threats detected within two kilometers. Elevators secured. Extraction route prepared."

Xavier walked with them, feeling the floor hum beneath his boots as the building's emergency protocol kicked in. The NPCs weren't stiff — they actually looked alive, moving through the hallway with purpose, clearing corners, checking sensors.

Damn, he thought.

'They built all this in six hours?'

They entered the private elevator. The doors slid shut, dim blue lights washing the space as the system scanned his avatar's face. A hologram of the building appeared on the wall, glowing red at several points where Evil players were already hacking their way inside.

The elevator descended fast — too fast for a regular building, but perfect for a VR event where drama mattered more than safety.

The second the doors opened at the ground floor, chaos greeted him.

Gunfire echoing in the distance.

Alarms blaring.

NPC crowds running everywhere.

Hover drones sweeping the sky.

A full city sim falling into a controlled disaster.

His security team tried escorting him toward an armored car waiting outside the lobby, but they didn't get far.

A figure burst through the smoke ahead — tall, geared in Heroic armor, carrying a pulse rifle that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi museum. The visor of the helmet flipped up, revealing the face beneath.

The player froze.

"Holy— HOLY SHIT— IT'S YOU—"

Xavier blinked.

The guy practically stumbled forward, nearly dropping his rifle as he scrambled closer. "Dude, dude, dude— I'm actually in the same instance as you— this is unreal— I've been following you since the first VR incident— my whole room is covered in your posters— my sister hates me but dude I don't care— I can't believe this—"

Xavier placed a hand on the guy's shoulder so he'd stop vibrating. "Breathe. You have a job, right? Heroic faction?"

The player straightened instantly, nodding like he'd been assigned a divine mission. "Y-yes sir! I mean— yes! Yes! Protecting you! Escorting you! Saving you! Whatever you want!"

"Good," Xavier said. "Because the city's about to go to hell."

Behind the fanboy, more Heroic players rushed in — a squad of six, all with matching blue markers above their heads and the same faction badges on their armor. They formed a protective line around Xavier with the kind of enthusiasm only hardcore fans could muster.

One of them shouted, "We found him! Alpha Group has Xavier! Repeat — we secured Xavier!"

Another answered through their mic, "Protect him until Backup Squad arrives! Evil faction already breached Sector Three!"

More voices joined in. More footsteps approached. More Heroic players poured into the street.

Xavier slipped into the center of the formation, hands still relaxed, watching the chaos spread across the city.

"Lead the way," he said.

The fanboy nodded so hard his helmet almost fell off and ushered Xavier forward, the squad moving with him.

The squad moved him through the smoke-filled street, weaving between broken cars and holographic barricades. Sirens wailed from drifting drones overhead. Somewhere behind them, Evil faction players were already shouting into their comms, trying to pinpoint his location.

A deep thrum rolled across the sky — heavy, mechanical, carrying that thunderous beat only military craft produced.

The Heroic squad leader looked up.

"Chopper incoming!"

A sleek VTOL dropship — the future's answer to a helicopter — descended toward them in a controlled arc. Its rotors were silent discs of blue light spinning above the craft, pushing down gusts that sent dust spiraling across the street.

The hatch slid open mid-air, and players inside leaned out, waving aggressively.

"GET IN! HURRY UP!"

"We've got the VIP location!"

"Xavier, bro, we got you — COME ON!"

The squad around him formed a shield, ushering him forward like he was made of glass. They helped him climb into the dropship, and the moment he stepped inside, the entire interior erupted with players cheering and scrambling toward him.

Hands extended everywhere — shaking his, patting his arms, giving awkward salutes.

"Bro, no way it's really you—"

"Holy shit— I can't believe—"

"I'm recording this, oh my god—"

"Xavier, I swear, we'll protect you no matter what— even if we die—"

Xavier sat down in the seat they shoved him into.

The dropship lifted, rotors angling for speed.

He barely had a second to settle before a sharp alarm cut through the cabin.

LOCK-ON WARNING.

The pilot shouted from the cockpit, "We're being tracked— everyone hold on—"

A streak of orange light sliced through the sky.

The missile hit the side of the dropship with a blast so violent the whole craft shook like it was made of paper. Panels ripped away. A side door tore off. Wind screamed through the cabin. Players flew across the interior.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT—"

"WE'RE GOING DOWN—"

"SHIELD XAVIER— SHIELD HIM—"

The Heroic players threw themselves over him so fast he didn't even have time to lift a hand. Their bodies covered him like human armor as the dropship slammed into the rooftop of a high-rise tower.

Metal screeched. Glass shattered. The world slammed sideways.

The craft skidded across the rooftop, sparks flying everywhere, until it finally crashed against a wall and stopped, broken and smoking.

A few seconds passed.

The dust settled.

Xavier pushed a piece of debris aside and crawled out through the torn hatch. His ears rang. Light flickered. The rooftop was cracked under the force of the crash.

His entire escort lay around him — some crawling, some struggling to sit, most barely moving.

But they were alive.

Until the elevator doors at the far end of the rooftop burst open.

Evil faction players poured out in full force — dark armor, glowing red visors, energy rifles humming at their sides. They rushed in like a coordinated strike team, shouting over each other.

"WHO THE HELL SHOT THE CHOPPER?!"

"YOU COULD'VE KILLED HIM, YOU IDIOT—"

"WE ALMOST FAILED THE EVENT—"

"DO NOT SHOOT ANYTHING NEAR HIM!"

"CHECK ONE XAVIER — CHECK HIM NOW—"