Conniving Rika into joining Terra Blue Star was, without question, the most dangerous thing Kamadeva had ever attempted across all three of his lives. He had faced bosses with health pools so deep entire guilds burned out before getting past the first phase. He had negotiated contracts with corporate sharks who smiled with perfect teeth while sharpening knives under the table. He had even survived the boredom of history lectures in his first life without clawing his eyes out. But none of that compared to the minefield of convincing Rika Moore to play a game seriously.
Rika liked video games, sure, but only as a distraction. She treated them like background noise, something to mess with after training when her muscles ached and she wanted to punch pixels instead of people. She wasn't obsessed like him, wasn't fascinated by min-max spreadsheets, didn't stay up until dawn arguing on forums about class synergies. For her, the game was never the battlefield — reality was. The mat, the ring, the opponent standing in front of her.
And yet, Kamadeva needed her. Not just because she was strong — though that was reason enough — but because she was the one person he could trust not to stab him in the back when the virtual kingdoms started rising. Allies, real allies, were rare in this world. If he could get her into the game, mold her early, drag her through the grind, then when it came time to carve his name into Terra Blue Star, she'd be at his side.
Of course, "convincing" Rika usually involved lying, bribing, tricking, or outright wrestling her until she reluctantly gave in. And given how their last encounter had ended with him trying to force-feed her Exliar Paste while she screamed bloody murder, the path ahead looked about as smooth as barbed wire.
Still, the world wasn't going to wait for her to come around.
Launch day had arrived.
The hype was everywhere — countdown clocks plastered across every feed, streamers shrieking like prophets of a new religion, streets clogged with players carrying helmets, capsules, and VR suits. Terra Blue Star had promised a revolution, and the masses were frothing at the mouth to dive in.
To accommodate the majority of players, the devs had programmed the servers so the game could be played even while the body slept. The real-world time dilation was absurd: one full day inside equaled just one hour outside. People called it the "hundred years of playtime promise." Companies called it the greatest productivity killer in history. Kamadeva called it his biggest cheat code.
Yeah, no way he was doing the math on that.
"Remember ya promise, dumbass."
Her voice cut through his thoughts, sharp as always, dragging him back to the cramped studio. Rika sat perched on his lap inside the gleaming new Virtual Gaming Cabin, her braid brushing his shoulder, her body angled just enough to remind him she had no concept of personal space. She had outright refused to log into the game unless he agreed to use the same Cabin.
Unknown to the both of them since Kamadeva never got a girlfriend or played with anyone and Rika would rather break most games they don't know about the couple feature when two players share a Gaming Cabin.
The feature was meant for lovers. For actual couples. For people who wanted their avatars joined at the hip, with the system recognizing them as bonded partners by default. Which meant, by the iron logic of MMO mechanics, that from the moment they spawned into Terra Blue Star, Kamadeva Alexandre and Rika Moore would be treated as husband and wife.
Future Kamadeva and Rika would forever be embarrassed by this story and their families will never let them down.
"OK, Rika," he muttered, tightening the strap of her helmet with more irritation than care. "I'll fight you every Friday for the next ten years. You happy now?"
"Damn straight," she said without missing a beat, her grin wolfish and victorious. "And don't be pullin' none of that cheap shit like last time. You fight fair or I knock your ass into next week."
Kamadeva rolled his eyes, leaning back as the pod's systems hummed to life. "Yeah, yeah. We both know I'mma cheat every single time. And we both know you ain't ever beat me once."
"Keep talkin', bastard," Rika shot back, cracking her knuckles as if she was about to start swinging inside the pod itself. "One of these days, I'mma put ya cocky ass in the dirt."
He smirked in the dark as the helmet sealed, his voice the last thing she heard before the login sequence pulled them under.
"Good luck with that, babe."
Soon, the vision around the couple turned dark before a glow of light shone at the far end of a path.
The world dissolved piece by piece, the faint hum of the cabin fading until only the rhythm of their own breathing remained. Then even that slipped away, their lungs no longer bound by flesh, their bodies weightless, their senses pulled through a tunnel of static and light.
Rika cursed somewhere in the dark — or maybe she thought she cursed, because no sound carried in this half-space. Kamadeva didn't need to see her face to imagine it: teeth bared, brow furrowed, the tomboy furious that she wasn't in control. He almost laughed, because he remembered this moment from his first dive — the mix of awe and panic, like being born into a world that knew you better than you knew yourself.
A bell-like tone rang out, vibrating through marrow that no longer existed. Ahead, the glow stretched wider, blooming into an archway woven from runes and silver fire. Beyond it lay a land blurred by fog, shapes hinting at mountains that kissed the horizon, rivers of molten gold, forests so tall the canopy swallowed the sun.
Welcome, Pioneers, a voice intoned, not in their ears but in their minds, rich and resonant like a choir collapsing into a single throat. You have chosen to step into Terra Blue Star. Time flows differently here. Choices carry weight. Bonds shape destiny.
"Yo, what the hell," Rika muttered, clutching at her arms like she could ground herself. "This some freaky-ass Willy Wonka trip, Kama."
Kamadeva grinned in the dark, his confidence sharp. "Relax, girl. This the tutorial screen. Don't piss yourself before we even hit character creation."
"Fuck you," she snapped back automatically, but her voice cracked with something that wasn't anger. Wonder, maybe. Or fear she didn't want him to hear.
He kept his eyes forward. He remembered this path. He remembered what came after. But standing here again, with her next to him — her first time, his second chance — it felt heavier, like fate was rewriting itself one pixel at a time.
The archway pulsed once, twice, then pulled them in. Light swallowed everything.
The light pulled them through the archway and, instead of blinding whiteness, they were suddenly standing on polished obsidian tiles that stretched endlessly into a void. Overhead, constellations burned bright like thousands of neon circuit lines, pulsing in rhythm to a heartbeat neither of them owned.
Before them floated a winged figure, a woman sculpted from glass and light, her wings spread wide like cathedral windows refracting starlight. Her voice was velvet and thunder at once.
"Welcome, Pioneers. I am Seraphiel, the Navigation Angel. Your journey begins here. Before you lies the path of destiny. Choose wisely, for your class is your first step into eternity."
A dozen luminous glyphs spun into existence, orbiting the pair like planets, each one flaring with its own color and energy. The symbols stretched and expanded into full projections — warriors in gleaming armor, robed mages surrounded by elemental storms, assassins crouched in shadow, healers with radiant auras, rangers pulling back ethereal bows.
Kamadeva exhaled slowly, a crooked grin tugging his lips. "Damn… forgot how flashy they made this shit. Rika, girl, you lookin' at the future right here."
"Future, my ass," she muttered, arms crossed, eyes darting suspiciously from glyph to glyph. "This look like some cult recruitment shit. Ain't trustin' no angel tellin' me what's 'destiny.'"
Ignoring her, Kamadeva flicked his wrist, and the holograms rearranged themselves neatly into four categories. Panels of golden text appeared, crisp and elegant.
Ignoring her, Kamadeva flicked his wrist, and the holograms rearranged themselves neatly into four categories. Panels of golden text appeared, crisp and elegant, like they'd been carved out of sunlight.
[Class Categories]
Warrior
Gunner
Mage
Healer
Before he even thought about picking one, Kamadeva's attention snagged on the so-called Navigation Angel.
Seraphiel.
And only now, on his second dive, did he really register how wildly down bad the dev team had been when they designed her.
She wasn't just some floating menu guide. Nah, this angel was model-tier ridiculous — radiant skin glowing like it had been photoshopped straight out of heaven's beauty department, wings spread wide and shimmering with a rainbow gloss filter, curves sculpted so smooth even marble statues would be jealous. Her voice? Velvet dipped in honey and sprinkled with just enough breathiness to make it sound like she'd been moaning her way through the recording booth.
Kamadeva narrowed his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Bruh. Somebody at the studio got caught slippin'. Ain't no way this passed HR without at least three people gettin' fired."
Rika, of course, noticed his expression immediately.
"Oi. What the hell you starin' at?" she snapped, jabbing him in the ribs. "Don't be makin' puppy eyes at some pixel chick, bastard. I'll bust your head open."
He snorted, leaning back like he wasn't caught red-handed. "Man, relax. I ain't makin' no puppy eyes. I'm just sayin'… this angel lookin' suspiciously like she about to sell me bathwater on OnlyWings."
Rika blinked. Then she barked out a laugh so sharp the light around them seemed to flicker. "Pfft—HAH! Oh, you nasty for that one. Deadass nasty. Don't be blamin' me when ya lil' angel fetish gets your dumb ass smote by lightning."
Seraphiel, still hovering in front of them, didn't react at all — just smiled serenely, halo spinning like a perfect golden ring.
Kamadeva squinted harder.
Yep. No doubt about it. The devs had coded this woman with sinful intent.
Kamadeva folded his arms, staring at Seraphiel a little too long. Her halo pulsed once, and suddenly a new panel flickered behind her wings — not the standard menu, but something darker, edged in crimson gold. A [Special Content] tab. Most players in his last life had blown right past it, distracted by the shiny class selection. But he knew better. That tab hid the launch-day DLC, the one so broken it tilted the early game for whoever claimed it first. A piece of power that only one player in the entire server could ever unlock.
He smirked, tapping the air with a single finger. "Yo, Seraphiel. Run me that DLC real quick."
The angel's voice purred like velvet-lined temptation: "Do you wish to purchase the [Crown of the First Sovereign] package for 99,999 dollars?"
Rika's jaw hit the metaphorical floor. "NINETY-NINE. THOUSAND. BASTARD, are you outta your goddamn mind? That's rent money!"
Kamadeva just grinned wider, already confirming the purchase. "Relax, girl. It's an investment. Future kingdom gotta start somewhere."
Before Rika could even swing at him, the menus around them flickered. The clean golden panels warped, reshaping as though the system itself bent knee to his purchase. The simple categories — Warrior, Gunner, Mage, Healer — dissolved into obsidian frames crowned with jeweled crests.
[Class Categories Updated]
Sovereign Knight
Runegun Saint
Eclipse Magus
Adepta Templar
Every letter burned with authority, the kind of authority that screamed pay-to-win. Rika blinked hard, her fury short-circuiting into stunned disbelief.
"…The fuck you just do, Kama? Why my class menu look like a damn royalty store catalog?"
Kamadeva laced his fingers behind his head, smug as ever. "Told you, babe. Day one, and I already flipped the script. Welcome to the future—our future."