The mahogany lid was surprisingly heavy, but not as heavy as the existential dread currently crushing Ryan’s chest. He pushed, the wood groaned, and a shower of expensive lilies cascaded onto his tuxedo."Bruh, is this for real?" Ryan wheezed, his lungs burning with the stale, metallic tang of the grave.He shoved the lid off. It hit the floor of the funeral parlor with a deafening thud, shattering the somber, weeping silence of the room. Ryan sat up, gasping for air, his hair a bird’s nest of satin lining and cemetery dirt.His best friend, Leo, dropped a decorative candle holder. It clattered across the marble floor like a gunshot. "Yo, what the actual... Ryan? You’re supposed to be ghostin’, fam. Why you pulling up like this?""Fam, I don’t know!" Ryan yelled, clutching his chest. "I was literally dead. Like, game over. Then I woke up and the air in there was straight trash. I’m lowkey starving, too. You got any snacks?"The mourners didn't reach for sandwiches. They scrambled back

Chapter 3: Accolades for IncompetenceThe interior of the carriage smelled of ozone, old leather, and a hint of decay that made Ryan want to hold his breath. Outside, the skeletal horses galloped with a rhythmic, bone-chilling clatter, their hooves barely touching the dirt road."So," Ryan said, shifting uncomfortably on the velvet seat. "We just, like, vibing to the capital, or is there a drive-thru on the way? I’m straight-up fading, bro."Captain Valerius sat opposite him, his posture so rigid it looked painful. He didn't blink. "The silence of the journey is part of the initiation, Champion. You are contemplating the logistics of the coming war, are you not?"Ryan stared at the man. "I’m contemplating a turkey club with extra mayo. War? Fam, I literally just woke up in a box. I’m not trying to be a general, I’m trying to be a customer."Valerius leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with intense, misplaced admiration. "A masterclass in misdirection. You speak of mundane cravings to lu

The palace air was suffocating, thick with the scent of perfume, ego, and the desperate, sweat-drenched sycophancy of courtiers who’d just realized they were on the losing side of a coup. Ryan pushed through the heavy obsidian doors, his tuxedo hanging off his frame like a ragdoll’s skin. He didn't look back."Yo, I am straight-up not having a good time," Ryan muttered, his voice echoing in the cold, cavernous marble hallway. "Protector of the Realm? I’m just trying to protect my own sanity, fam. This is some serious main character energy that I literally did not sign up for."He slipped into the shadows of the outer courtyard, moving past guards who stiffened and bowed as he passed. He didn't even acknowledge them; he just kept his head down, focused on the dark silhouette of the hills looming just beyond the capital’s perimeter."Yo, Champion! Where are you going?" a guard shouted, his voice cracking with nerves."I’m going AFK," Ryan called back, not breaking his stride. "If anyone

The sky above the forest stuttered, flickering like a dying fluorescent bulb in a basement that hadn’t been cleaned since the dawn of time. Ryan stood in the middle of the path, watching the world glitch into jagged shards of static."Bruh, are you serious right now?" Ryan shouted at the flickering horizon. "I just wanted a quick nap, and now the whole render distance is acting goofy? This is literally the worst service ever."He turned to stomp back toward the inn, his dress shoes clicking sharply against the gravel. A hunched figure huddled in the shadows of an ancient oak, draped in rags that looked like they had been salvaged from a dumpster fire. As Ryan approached, the beggar didn't move, but a pair of eyes—eyes that shimmered with a sickly, subterranean violet—fixed onto him."You there," the beggar rasped, his voice sounding like gravel being crushed in a blender. "The one who walks between the light and the static. The King of Aethelgard is a fool, but I seek to know... what

The white void stretched out like a blank canvas waiting for a bad artist to ruin it. Ryan clutched the shifting, chromatic letter, his heart hammering against his ribs. The silence wasn’t just quiet; it was deafening, the kind of stillness that made his ears ring with digital static."Admin privileges? Is this a joke?" Ryan muttered, his voice sounding thin in the infinite nothingness. "Bruh, I’m literally trying to figure out if I can get a decent meal, and you’re dropping 'Architect' level lore on me? That’s some serious main character trauma I didn't opt into."The letter pulsed in his hands, the ink flowing like a liquid LED display."Read it, you absolute clown," a voice boomed. It didn't come from behind him; it vibrated inside his teeth. "You’ve been a test subject. A lucky, messy, glitchy test subject. We wanted to see what happens when a bottom-tier variable gets 'Protector' status. It’s been comedy gold."Ryan scanned the shifting text, his eyes widening. "Comedy gold? You’