The reality of experiencing all of this so fast was actually pretty draining. Really, really exciting, but equally draining. Ending my live stream, I glanced at my Wallet icon and saw 99+ Notifications. Looking at my wallet, I could see that I'd made $175,000 easily during my first live-stream.
You always see and hear about those overnight successes. Well, now I was one of them. The adrenaline of the day was finally wearing off, and a heavy sluggishness made itself known. Surprisingly, I could feel a subtle electric energy beneath the surface of my skin. My brain must still be getting used to being back in reality. The game was so vivid. Meeting Stella and swimming in the cave was fantastic. She was something else for sure; I could feel the power wafting off of her, a raw, arcane hum that pulled at something deep inside me.
I barely could finish my thought when I heard the steady rhythm of Alfonzo's crisp knock. TAP, TAP, TAP. "Come in, Alfonzo."
He made his way over to me with clear, purposeful strides, holding in his hands a pristine silver platter. He bent over slowly, placing the platter down in front of me. "Here you are, sir. The chef has prepared you a simple meal before bed. A classic Ramen Noodle, elevated with all the veggies and, of course, an extra egg for you, sir. Please call if you need anything else at all. Goodnight, sir."
"Thanks, Alfonzo. Goodnight."
He bowed slightly and exited, leaving me in the quiet glow of my room. My phone lay on the nightstand, its familiar screen showing Ethan texting me. I didn't find the energy to pick it up. Instead, I ate my noodles, the rich broth comforting, the vegetables crisp. Each bite felt unusually distinct, the flavors almost too vibrant. It was hard to compare it to the dull nutrient packages Mom and Dad usually ate, though I couldn't explain why it felt so much better. While I ate, I pulled up Khalancy's stream before bed.
The stream loaded, showing the familiar white room where Progenitors chose their starting locations. The only difference was the person standing in it. Standing at six feet, he possessed a lean, athletic build that spoke of effortless grace and formidable speed. He had prominent cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a finely sculpted nose. There was an undeniable handsomeness to him, but it was often accompanied by a faint, almost imperceptible smirk that hinted at hidden amusement or a predatory calculation.
Watching him hone in on the role-play and fully embrace the moment was actually fun to watch. I could see his viewers going crazy every time he talked, especially when those two dangerously sharp canines made themselves known as his lips barely parted. His eyes were his most striking feature. They were often described as deep, piercing pools of a luminous, unsettling crimson. They held an ancient, knowing quality, capable of unnerving anyone who met his gaze. His hair was dark and meticulously styled, a sleek, almost unnatural black. He was wearing a thick, dark, luxurious suit, adorned with a big amethyst signet ring. He was adorned in a variety of different trinkets, showcasing his wealth.
I could hear him talking to his chat, making sure to keep enough of a mystery so that he had their attention. I'd always liked how interactive he was with his chat. I just didn't think that's how I wanted to play the game. I'd rather get lost in the world than constantly interact with chat; it would take me out of the immersion. Remembering back to when Mom and Dad told me the importance of this game, the weight of their words felt heavier now, especially with the subtle electrical hum still present in my arm.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard Khalancy tell his chat:
"The moment has arrived, my devoted nocturnal assembly. As Alastor Ducayne, the genesis of our shadowed lineage in this… nascent realm… hinges upon the selection of our first dominion. Observe closely. Where shall the influence of the First Vampire take root?"
STREAM CHAT:
EpicGamer77: LETS GOOOO, DUCYANE! Choose wisely, king! For the W!
MythicPlayer: HYPE HYPE HYPE!
RPG_Fanatic: Castle vibes! Give us a fortress!
ProGamer2025: Dono: 500 Bits - Go for the mountains, my liege! High ground, easy defense!
KhalancyFan: ASMR voice today, boss. So chill.
WorldExplorer: No, the coasts! Global reach! Resources from the sea!
Apex_Player: AlastorWut AlastorWut
LoreDiver: Heard some talk about a 'Stella' in a place called Eden. Counter-pick them, Alastor! Establish dominance!
TheFirstOne: @MythicPlayer He doesn't follow trends. He sets them.
Alastor Ducayne teleported over the world, showcasing the familiar landscape below. I could even see Eden from up here, a bright, inviting spot. Alastor, or rather, Ducayne, scanned the map, looking for any advantage he could find, and he found it if the faint smirk on his face was anything to go by.
I watched him zoom into Blackrock, the land devoid of most things one would want, sitting in a pocket that was devoid of light. The land was in a constant twilight. Since the town was located on the top of the cliff, it was shrouded from the ocean's nighttime fog. I could see the wheels turning in Alastor's head before he confirmed his choice.
Alastor Ducayne's avatar slowly descended, his gaze seemingly drawn to a region marked by perpetual twilight, ancient, gnarled forests clinging to mist-shrouded valleys, far from any obvious signs of civilization. The chat went wild as he made his selection: Blackrock.
Watching him spawn on the outskirts of the village, I could see the moment Alastor realized that the game felt like real life. From his perspective, I could see faint pulses in the distance and a "Hunger" meter. He seemed to be fine for now, but I wondered what would happen when it started to drop.
He made his way up to the village, easily reaching the gate with the lax guards on duty. No one chose to come to Blackrock. The town was seemingly cursed, the town with the constant fog and the lack of sunlight was a terrible place for plants, so life was pretty scattered. The local populace ate cattle, kept in hidden pastures further away from the light-starved valley. Knocking on the huge wooden gate, you could hear the echo throughout the area. It took two minutes before anyone opened the gate.
The person who stepped out was a woman who said her name was Moira Stonehand. She was not frail. Moira possessed a sturdy, compact build, honed by a lifetime of navigating treacherous mountain paths and long hours in the mines, with similar hours at the forge. Her shoulders were broad, her posture straight and unyielding like the mountains themselves. Her face was weather-beaten and severe, with sharp cheekbones and a prominent, often unsmiling mouth. Her nose was slightly crooked from an old accident. Her most striking features were her eyes: a piercing, ice-blue, set deep under heavy, practical brows. They missed nothing, assessing every situation and every person with shrewd, almost unnerving intensity.
I could see Alastor scanning her, looking for a weakness he could exploit to gain his advantage. Moira spoke first, her voice a gravelly rasp. "What can I do for you, pale skin?"
Alastor seemed taken aback by her question. I didn't know if it was from the vividness of it all or the blatant insult. He responded, "I am just a traveler who lost my way. Is there any way you can provide lodging for the night?" He spoke so smoothly that even I, watching from behind the screen, was almost swayed. A faint aura seemed to bleed from Alastor, noticeably affecting the guards as they all reached for their weapons on instinct. Moira met him with a gaze as hard as the obsidian they mined. She cut through any pleasantries.
"I am sorry, stranger. Blackrock is a very small, close town. People wouldn't be happy with a random stranger showing up with nothing to show for it. I'll tell you what, there have been strange creatures and sightings in The Deep Vein, our most valued mine. If you can go down there and clear our problem, I will allow you residence inside the village, strange one. You carry yourself with a king's aura; let's see you do this."
David leaned back against the couch cushions, a fresh jolt of the electric hum running through his arm, a stark reminder of his own growing power. Alastor Ducayne, The First Vampire, had just accepted his first real challenge. And David Foster, The First Hunter, was watching it all unfold, knowing his own reality was becoming just as complicated