In the year 2024, MMORPGs and tower defense games were at the height of popularity. Millions of players logged in daily, drawn into immersive worlds of fantasy, strategy, and battle. However, the tower defense genre had evolved. No longer were players building turrets and walls. Instead, the towers had been replaced with characters—summonable heroes and entities drawn from a gacha system, each boasting distinct ranks, abilities, and affiliations.
Among the top players of this new wave was Angel Cruz, a gamer from the Philippines. Known for his impeccable strategy and rare 7-star units, Angel had become a legend in the scene, clearing difficult levels with ease and reaching the top of the global leaderboard.
But just as he ascended to the pinnacle, he suddenly lost interest.
Bored of repetition and craving a different challenge, Angel turned his attention to MMORPGs, leaving behind the tower defense game that had once brought him fame.
---
WARNING
One ordinary afternoon, the world changed.
Every TV screen, phone, and digital billboard in the world simultaneously flashed the same message:
[WARNING]
Behind the crimson letters, live footage displayed something surreal—massive gates were falling from the sky, crashing into cities with thunderous force. As one of the cameras zoomed in on a descending gate, it opened. From within burst hideous beasts—monsters straight out of fantasy games. They charged into the streets, tearing through civilians with unrelenting savagery.
"Woah, people are really stepping up their CGI these days," Angel's friend muttered, lounging nearby.
"What do you mean?" Angel asked, looking up from his laptop.
"This? On the news? Come on, it's gotta be fake—some promotional stunt, maybe. No way that's real."
But Angel felt a chill crawl up his spine. Something about the footage felt... too real.
"I don't think that's CGI…" he began to say—when the doorbell rang violently.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Irritated, Angel walked to the peephole. No one was there.
He returned to his seat, only for the doorbell to ring again. Frustrated, he stormed back, ready to shout at whoever was pranking them.
"Survive," his friend suddenly muttered.
"Huh?" Angel blinked. "What did you just—"
But it was too late. He opened the door—and froze.
Standing there was a goblin. A real one. Barely three feet tall, clutching a crude wooden club, sneering with fanged teeth.
A glowing blue system panel appeared before Angel's eyes:
[Quest: Survive the Opening Debut of the Game of the Gods.]
"What...?"
The goblin cackled and smacked his ankle with the club, sending Angel crashing to the floor in pain. The ground trembled as something enormous approached. The goblin, sensing the change, squealed in terror and fled.
Angel's friend screamed from the window.
"ANGEL, WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!"
Angel dragged himself up just in time to see what caused the shaking—a towering minotaur, wielding a warhammer the size of a car, lumbering through the street outside.
"Angel! Move!"
They fled through the emergency stairwell, racing downward. But just as they neared the exit, the minotaur roared and swung its weapon. The impact shattered the building. Angel barely escaped with a few bruises and a pounding head—but his friend wasn't so lucky.
"Behind you…" his friend gasped, pointing with a trembling hand.
The minotaur loomed over them.
"Run!" his friend yelled.
But Angel couldn't move. He was paralyzed by fear.
The hammer fell.
His friend was gone.
He couldn't even scream. Only silence followed.
Helicopters whirred overhead. A man leapt from one of them, blade gleaming. The newcomer slashed at the minotaur with impossible speed. Gunfire rained down from above, distracting the monster long enough for the swordsman to decapitate it in a finishing strike.
Angel collapsed beside his fallen friend's body, shaking.
"Hey. You alive?" the swordsman asked, walking over.
"My… my friend… Christian… he…" Angel stammered.
"Yeah. I saw. I'm sorry. If I'd gotten here faster…" The swordsman offered a hand. "Name's Rias. You're coming with us."
The helicopter lowered a ladder. Angel climbed aboard, leaving Rias behind to face the next wave of monsters alone.
Somehow, Angel knew—he'd be fine.
---
Four hours later, they arrived in Palawan—now a fortified sanctuary under Philippine military control. Soldiers hustled about, many wielding not guns, but weapons from games—swords, staffs, and magical artifacts. Angel staggered through the camp, eyes wide. Mages in robes. Knights in shining armor. A whole new world had unfolded.
He was given medical treatment and a simple choice: adapt or perish.
---
Three Years Later
The world had changed beyond recognition.
First came the rise of factions—led by the "Awakened," individuals blessed with powers during the Time of Catastrophe. Their influence rivaled national governments.
Second came the gods. Those who survived the first day received blessings. Now, each faction served a different deity, their powers and items bestowed through system panels.
And third were the gates. No longer chaotic and free-roaming, they now bore colored crystals atop them, denoting their difficulty. The Defenders—specialized hunters—ventured into these gates, completing missions to destroy them.
But not Angel.
Three years later, he was still unawakened.
The only job he could get was as a Porter—bag carrier for raids.
This time, he joined a mid-level raid on a yellow-ranked gate. C-class and D-class monsters, they said. Nothing special.
Inside, the sky was black and the trees brittle as ash.
"Stay sharp. We don't know what's coming," said Mark Santos, a C-rank tank.
[Mission: Survival. Last until Wave 10.]
"Ten potions of each type in the bag," Angel confirmed.
His spatial backpack allowed him to carry a whole arsenal without feeling the weight.
The formation took shape: triangle pattern, with him and the healer in the center. Rachel, the supporter, stood close behind.
Waves came—one, then two, up to ten. They endured.
Then…
[Wave 11 Incoming.]
[WARNING: Difficulty Rising. Changing to "Black".]
"What!?" Mark cried out. "BLACK?!"
No one had ever seen a black gate before. The worst had been red—and those needed five S-rank Defenders.
A new gate rose from the earth. The creatures that emerged were not beasts. They were demons—tall, twisted, smiling things that reeked of death.
They slaughtered the front line within seconds. Blood sprayed. Screams echoed.
Rachel and Angel froze, paralyzed with fear.
A demon approached, smiling. Clawed hands stretched toward them.
Angel closed his eyes.
'Why… why did I come here!? If only I wasn't so weak!'
Then—nothing.
He blinked.
Still alive?
A voice cut through the fog. "Seriously? Are you really our master?"
Angel looked up.
A man stood before him—tall, red-haired, in a black coat, twin swords gleaming.
"Cerios…?" Angel whispered.
It was him. Cerios, the Dual Blade of the Moon—his old 7-star unit from the game.
"This has to be a dream… right?"
Cerios grinned, slashed through a demon, then slapped Angel back to reality.
"Snap out of it. You've got work to do."
A golden system panel appeared before Angel.
[Congratulations on your Awakening.]
[Class: God-Rank | Title: Ruler-Class | Name: Angel Cruz.]
Angel stood, trembling—not in fear, but in power.
His game was no longer virtual.
It was real.
And it had only just begun.