The summoning began in silence.
Karl sat alone in his bedroom, the Star Key floating like a quiet moon before him. Its blue glow painted the floor in strange geometric patterns. He had stared at it for hours, considering. Calculating.
Now, finally, he reached forward and activated the next summon.
> [Summoning Permission Unlocked — Additional Units: 10]
> [Star Anchor Location: Aurelia — Royal Estate (Interior)]
> [Executing Deployment...]
A soft pulse of light. A breathless pause.
Then nothing.
No fanfare. No light show. Just a faint shimmer in the air—and elsewhere in the villa, ten new players opened their eyes.
---
They arrived in the great hall.
Rough linen clothes, basic satchels, strange-colored hair. No weapons. No gold. Just the quiet thud of boots on marble as they stepped into the Empire’s capital.
“Whoa,” one of them muttered. “This starting area’s... rich.”
“High-res interior. Must be the main questline hub,” another said.
“Guys. Look at that tapestry. That’s not a village. That’s a palace. We’re not in the tutorial anymore.”
The group scattered, instinctively inspecting everything.
One woman crouched and rubbed the floor between her fingers. “Solid craftsmanship. Real stone.”
A guy with a half-dyed mohawk licked a pillar. “Yup. Real texture mapping. Tastefully bitter.”
Another player tapped a sconce and whispered, “Fully animated fire. This game’s budget must be insane.”
---
No one screamed. No one panicked.
They thought this was part of the game.
In their minds, they had logged into the newest VRMMORPG experience—the one that promised full-immersion AI and unscripted sandbox narrative. A world of choice and consequence.
As far as they were concerned, they were here to play.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
---
Footsteps approached. The five older players—already half-dressed and visibly sleep-deprived—walked into the hall with a mix of curiosity and dread.
“Oh god,” muttered the student. “There’s more of them.”
The ex-soldier squinted. “They’re already poking the statues.”
The pervert grinned. “I like the energy.”
One of the new arrivals turned, spotted them, and jogged over. “Hey! Are you quest-linked NPCs or players?”
The old researcher rubbed his face. “We’re the same as you. Just... longer stuck.”
“Incredible,” the new player breathed. “So what’s going on? Is there a war? A prophecy? We spawned inside a palace. That’s gotta be important.”
---
What followed was a chaotic info dump.
The old players explained everything—at least, what they knew.
The villa. The guards. The Empire. The “main NPC.”
And of course, Karl.
“He’s the prince,” the student explained. “Lost his kingdom. Now he’s hiding in the heart of the enemy’s capital.”
One of the new players gasped. “We’re in a fallen royalty arc?”
Another scribbled in a virtual notebook. “So he’s the quest hub? The whole game is probably built around his decisions.”
“I bet he unlocks factions once we gain enough loyalty.”
The pink-haired girl stood up. “It’s obvious. He’s the story’s center.”
---
Upstairs, Karl opened his door, yawning.
He hadn’t even gotten out of his bedroom yet.
And down in the great hall, the new players had already drawn conclusions.
---
By the time Karl walked down the staircase, they had formed a circle.
One kneeled. Another gave a dramatic salute. A third was already designing a guild emblem in chalk on the floor.
“My liege,” said a tall, serious-looking woman, “we’ve pledged ourselves to your cause.”
Karl stopped on the third step.
“My what?”
“Your cause, sire,” said the mohawk guy. “Reclaiming your kingdom. Ending the Empire’s tyranny.”
“You summoned us,” added another. “We get it. This is your story.”
Karl looked to the older players for help.
They just shrugged.
“It’s what they believe,” said the soldier.
“And technically...” the researcher added, “they’re not wrong.”
---
Karl exhaled slowly.
He was starting to understand something critical.
They didn’t think he was the player.
They thought he was the NPC.
The main NPC. The quest-giver. The center of the world.
And they were here to serve “the plot.”
---
The Star Key shimmered faintly in the air beside him.
Karl turned away from the players and muttered under his breath.
“Guess I’m playing the role, then.”
---
Later that day, the players dispersed through the estate. They explored rooms, tested furniture, interrogated confused maids, and discussed what “triggered faction quests” might look like.
The translation system finally kicked in. Just barely.
> [Language Synchronization: Basic Module Installed]
> [Current Comprehension Level: 31%]
> [Status: Ongoing Improvement Pending Exposure]
Karl tried to speak to one of the new players and got back something halfway between broken Imperial and gamer slang.
It would do. For now.
---
That night, in the privacy of the villa’s old wine cellar, the older players sat with the new.
“We need money,” said the ex-soldier.
“And information,” added the student.
“Side quests,” said the pervert. “Let’s start farming.”
The researcher nodded. “Blend in. Gather data. Look for patterns.”
A new player raised his hand. “Wait, are we allowed to leave?”
The old soldier grinned. “Who’s going to stop us?”
---
And so, before dawn, ten fresh-faced “heroes” slipped out of the villa.
Bright hair, strange accents, bizarre mannerisms.
They walked straight into the heart of the Empire’s greatest city.
And began looking for jobs.
---
Back upstairs, Karl stood in his bedroom, staring at the Star Key hovering above his hand.
It pulsed once.
He didn’t know what would happen next.
But the game was changing.
And it was moving fast.
