I was just trying to forget the day.
The office had been hell again. Meetings that meant nothing. Orders from managers who didn't know the difference between respect and fear. I made it home, microwaved dinner, turned on the fan, and booted up my PS4. Monster Hunter: World.
My escape.
I loaded into Ancient Forest. Familiar, peaceful… fake. My fingers moved on their own—smooth, methodical. Hunt. Dodge. Track. Loop.
Then the screen glitched.
A sudden spike of static. Colors melted into white.
Then black.
And then…
Pain.
My back slammed into something hard—stone, maybe. The air rushed out of my lungs like I'd been thrown from a moving car. My head spun, my stomach turned, and the sky above me was… real.
Clouds moved.
The sun beat down like fire.
And in front of me—they stood.
Three figures. Hunters. Real armor, weathered and bloodstained. Swords longer than my entire body. I could smell the steel and sweat.
One of them—a woman, short red hair tied back, scars on her cheek—stepped forward, eyes wide. She lowered her weapon.
She spoke.
> "Zurunaka kel vi'a venai…?"
The words were nonsense to me. Fluid, sharp. A language I didn't know—some Monster Hunter dialect. I blinked, coughing, trying to sit up.
She knelt, face softening. Her glove reached out to mine.
> "Vi'rea… okay…?"
The only thing I could think "Let's hold her hand for no-"—
Then everything snapped.
A shadow fell over her.
And I heard the earth split with a sound like the world vomiting hatred.
Deviljho.
"Wha-"
It came from the trees like a living plague—roaring, monstrous, its skin pulsing with hunger, steam rising from its breath like furnace fire.
The hunter didn't even have time to turn.
It lunged.
Its jaw locked around her head.
And bit down.