Five years ago.
I woke up in the room of a modest house, stirred by the warm sunlight streaming through the window and the gentle breeze of fresh morning air.
And there, I saw something that left me utterly stunned:
I had woken up inside my favorite game.
"WHAT!?"
Arkesia Heroes is a top-tier tactical RPG set in a vast continent torn between ancient magic, crumbling empires, and rising darkness. Every player begins as a custom character—choosing their class, origin, and morality—before diving into a branching storyline where every decision reshapes the world around them.
What made Arkesia Heroes legendary wasn't just the combat or the rich worldbuilding. It was the illusion of freedom. Every run felt different. Every choice seemed to matter.
I couldn't believe it. The very game I had played countless times, exploring every possible scenario and storyline path... I was now inside it.
When I stepped outside, I was overwhelmed. The NPCs I once clicked through for generic dialogue were now laughing, chatting, and behaving like real people. I even managed to hold actual conversations with some of them.
But what truly blew my mind was seeing magic and knights with my own eyes. Even the monsters felt real. It was the kind of experience every gamer, every fantasy nerd, dreams of.
So I made a decision.
If I was going to live in this world… I'd make the most of it.
Not long after that, I met Cael, the original protagonist of the game's story. We became friends. I helped him progress through the main quests. I showed him where to find the best gear, how to befriend key NPCs, how to trigger hidden events. He even ended up with his own harem—just like in the game.
Life was good alongside him. He had the Protagonist Buff, after all. He handled all the combat. I just stood by his side, offering advice, guiding him through the world I already knew so well.
But everything changed when I realized something.
Cael… was a psychopath.
"Why the hell are you doing this, Cael!?"
Cael tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
"I got bored. You should've seen the way our dear NPC friends cried and begged. I twisted every event, every scene—reshaped it all just the way I liked."
Noah's eyes widened. "NPCs? How do you even know that word?"
Cael's smirk deepened.
"Don't tell me..."
"That's right, dear Noah."
He took a casual step forward, like he was enjoying the reveal.
"I reincarnated into this world too. Just like you. Though... we weren't the only ones. But those other variables? I disposed of them long ago."
Noah's breath caught in his throat.
"You… You manipulated me. I trusted you. I thought we were friends."
Cael's eyes glinted. "And we are, Noah. Look around—this world we've built. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Not even close… You have any idea how many sleepless nights I had, trying to fix the mess you left behind? We promised we'd get the best ending, that we'd save everyone. Five years, Cael. Five years living among them. Didn't they become real to you!?"
Cael laughed—quiet, cruel.
"Real? Them? They were tools, Noah. All of them. Tools to elevate me. To worship me. And if you doubt that, ask my wives."
At his signal, five figures stepped into view.
The five heroines of the game—once vibrant, strong-willed characters—stood lifeless before Noah. Their eyes were hollow, their expressions empty. As if their souls had been burned away.
"What did you do to them!?"
"Nothing," Cael replied smoothly. "Played with them here and there. Tested them for other purposes."
A pulse of rage erupted in Noah's chest.
Without thinking, he unsheathed his katana—Kagetsume—and launched himself at Cael.
"You bastard!!"
He slashed with a horizontal arc, fast and clean.
Cael ducked effortlessly.
Their blades clashed. Cael drew his own sword in a lazy motion, parrying without effort. Noah followed up with a thrust, a feint, then a spinning cut aimed at Cael's ribs—but each move was evaded with minimal effort.
"We fought side by side," Noah growled between attacks. "Doesn't that mean anything to you!?"
CLANG.
Cael deflected again. "Sure it does. It means you were useful."
Noah lunged low, then brought his blade up with a rising slash—Crescent Fang. Cael spun to the side, countering with a flat kick that knocked Noah back.
"What about our adventures?" Noah pressed on, panting. "Our nights at the tavern, those near-death missions—Charlotte, Garran, the rest—did none of it matter?"
Cael tilted his head again.
"Charlotte?" He chuckled. "Oh. She cried the most."
Noah's scream echoed across the field as he charged again.
Half Moon – Reactive Shell.
He deflected a counterstrike, spun, and activated Gibbous Step, leaving a mirage as he repositioned.
This time, he went in close—Moonfall – Heaven's Descent—leaping and bringing Kagetsume down with fury.
But Cael's sword met his mid-air. Sparks erupted, followed by a violent mana shockwave that split the stone beneath them.
Noah staggered. His breathing was ragged. Cuts laced his arms and chest. His vision blurred.
"You were never planning to save anyone," he muttered, "you only wanted power…"
Cael grinned.
"Exactly."
Then came the final strike.
Cael's blade pierced Noah's shoulder, disarming him. Kagetsume fell to the ground with a heavy clang. Blood dripped freely from Noah's side.
He collapsed to one knee.
Cael knelt beside him, whispering:
"You still don't get it, do you?"
"This world doesn't need a hero… it needs a god. And I've already taken that role."
Noah's vision dimmed. His fingers scraped against the dirt, searching blindly for his sword.
But Kagetsume remained just out of reach.
"I lost..." Noah whispered, his voice trembling as tears streamed down his cheeks.
His vision blurred, but he could still see Cael standing above him—sword in hand.
The blade was crimson, glowing with searing flame. Its heat licked the air, casting flickering shadows across Cael's twisted smile. He crouched, leveling the sword against Noah's chest.
And then—slowly, deliberately—he drove it in.
Inch by inch.
Their eyes locked.
Noah's breath caught in his throat. He felt the burning steel tear through skin, muscle, and bone. His hands twitched. His body convulsed. But Cael never looked away.
Not even as the crimson light in Noah's eyes faded… until there was nothing.
'I died.'
The thought floated in the void of his unraveling mind.
'After five long years by his side... none of it mattered.'
'Charlotte, his wives, me… nothing meant anything to him.'
'All of this—just so he could play god.'
'I can't take it. I hate him. I did everything I could to save everyone. I cried when I failed. Every time someone died, a piece of me went with them.'
'Knowing what the game could have been—what it should've been—I held on. But it was all in vain, wasn't it?'
'That's the worst part.'
'It never mattered. I was fighting in a story where the ending was already stolen.'
His thoughts began to drift.
Disconnected.
Faint.
'I... I didn't know anything. It's like my mind is slipping away now...'
'If only I could go back… just once. I wouldn't let it happen again. Not now. Not now that I know the truth.'
'Please... If anything out there can hear me—let me try again.'
'Give me another chance.'
And then—darkness.
Not silence. Not peace. Just total erasure.
No weight. No body. No time.
Until—
[Player 3: Noah] has died.
[Main scenario incomplete. Resetting system.]
Light.
A distant breeze.
The sound of birds chirping just outside the window.
Noah's eyes fluttered open.
His heart pounded violently in his chest.
His hands gripped the familiar, worn blanket.
He sat up slowly, breath ragged, eyes wide as the sunlight poured in.
The same wooden ceiling. The same dull walls.
The same room.
The beginning.
"What… what just happened?"
He looked around, disoriented, blinking through the tears still clinging to his lashes.
Just moments ago, he had been dying. Cael had stabbed him—he'd felt the fire, the pain, the end.
But now… he was back.
Back in the same humble room where it all started, five years ago.
His lips parted. His voice was soft at first. Almost trembling.
"…I'm alive."
His hands trembled. His vision was still hazy.
But within that broken breath… something snapped.
All the pain.
All the betrayal.
All the wasted years.
They ignited into raw fury.
He clenched his fists, grit his teeth, and with a voice that tore through the quiet morning air, he screamed—
"I'M GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"