Prince Of Azra

The screen blinked gently, and the words LOADING… appeared at the bottom-left corner.

Evan let out a long sigh. "Why is this taking forever? It's not even an online game," he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the desk.

His eyes wandered around his room. Clothes were draped over his chair. A sock dangled from the drawer's edge like it was clinging for dear life. But his gaming area? Spotless. The desk was clear, wires neatly arranged by color, and the keyboard glowed underneath with cool LED lights, like a mini runway.

The loading bar crawled forward. Each inch felt like a full minute.

Then finally, the screen flickered.

A message popped up in bold, glowing letters:

WELCOME.

YOUR JOURNEY AS A KNIGHT OF AZRA IS ABOUT TO BEGIN.

DO YOU ACCEPT TO BECOME A Knight OF AZRA AND SAVE HER PEOPLE FROM THE DESTRUCTION OF THE DEMON QUEEN?

YES   NO

Evan didn't even stop to think. He clicked YES.

Another message popped up right after, bigger and written in bold red letters:

WARNING.

YOU ARE A CHOSEN PLAYER. YOU CANNOT LEAVE THE GAME UNLESS YOU COMPLETE YOUR QUEST.

FAIL THE QUEST OR DIE IN THE GAME AND IT'S GAME OVER FOR YOU. NO SECOND CHANCE.

ACCEPT REJECT

Evan froze.

"What the hell does 'Game Over For You' mean?" he whispered.

His chest grew tight. The room felt strangely quiet. Even the soft whir of the fan seemed to fade away. The screen's light danced across his face, catching the fear in his wide eyes.

"It's just a game," he muttered. "Probably some dramatic effect."

But the feeling in his gut said otherwise.

His fingers hovered over the controller, stuck between curiosity and caution.

BA-LA-GAGAGGA!

A loud, clattering noise exploded from behind him.

Evan jumped out of his chair like he'd been zapped.

"Shit! Shit!" he shouted, his heart pounding. He spun around so fast, his slippers nearly betrayed him.

There it was.

Kael, his tiny grey kitten, sat beside a fallen plastic cup on the floor. Water was already soaking into the mat.

Evan clutched his chest like he was trying to hold his heart in place.

"Damn you, Kael!" he barked. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Kael let out a soft, innocent meow and stared up at him with big, watery eyes. Then she slowly walked forward, tail swaying.

Evan groaned and bent down. "Come here, you little monster." He scooped her into his arms. She started purring the second his hand touched her back. "You're lucky you're cute."

He glanced back at his screen.

The options were still there.

ACCEPT. REJECT.

Evan gently set Kael down on the floor and began pacing the room. His arms were crossed tight, and he chewed nervously on his lower lip.

"Why am I freaking out?" he whispered. "It's just a game. Right?"

But his chest was thumping like it had other plans.

"What kind of game starts like that? Why's my heart pounding like a talking drum?" he muttered.

He glanced at the console again.

"I'm not doing this alone. I'll wait for Mum. If something weird happens, at least someone will be here to find me. Or call an ambulance."

Kael hopped up onto the windowsill, sitting there like a tiny silent bodyguard.

"Next time, don't sneak up on me like that," Evan said, eyeing the kitten. "Mum will be home soon. She can keep you busy."

He pulled the Azra flash drive out of the console and set it down on the desk beside the open box. Even just lying there, it gave him a weird feeling.

He slid his chair back and grabbed another controller.

"It's been a while since I played an FPS," he said. "Let's go face some crazy people on Call of Duty. Maybe that'll snap me out of it."

He clicked the icon.

The screen changed.

Azra could wait.

Evan clicked on the Call of Duty icon and waited as the game loaded.

"Hmm… where should I go?" he muttered, scratching his chin while scanning the options.

"Multiplayer? Nah. No bikes or choppers to mess around with there," he said. "Let's go with Battle Royale."

He selected it.

A message flashed across the screen:

WELCOME TO CALL OF DUTY: BATTLE ROYALE

Outplay. Outlast. Survive.

He leaned back in his chair. The soft light from the screen lit up his face. The room was still quiet, but the game's loading hum filled the silence.

SELECT YOUR CLASS

He scrolled through the choices quickly and tapped on Trickster.

"Always my go-to," he said with a small smirk.

The countdown started.

Matchmaking complete. 100 players found.

You are PLAYER 3

Codename: PLAYER-488

Match begins in 60 seconds…

The digital lobby popped up on screen. One by one, players appeared. Some were dancing. Some were sprinting around. A few fired test shots into the air for fun.

Evan cracked his knuckles.

"Alright," he whispered, "let's go mess some people up."

The Battle Royale lobby loaded, and the sound of a transport plane rumbled through digital clouds, carrying a hundred players over a massive map. Evan adjusted his headset and leaned in a little closer.

Player One's mic crackled.

"Hey guys, we're landing at Black Market," he said with confidence.

A few players replied with quick "copy" or "got it." Evan's mic was on too, but he stayed quiet. Instead, he marked Pipeline on the map.

Then Player One's voice came again, louder and excited.

"Oh my God! Is this the real Player-488?! Yo, guys! We've got a legend on our team!"

Evan smirked but didn't say a word. The name PLAYER-488 floated above his character, and it was already turning heads.

Player Two jumped in. "Wait, for real? Are you the Player-488? The one who beat Infinite Demon Castle?"

Still silent, Evan just typed into the team chat:

Yea, I'm the one. No duplicate.

Player Four finally spoke up. "Who's Player-488? Why are you all acting like some celebrity just joined?"

Player One snorted. "Seriously? You must only play COD if you've never heard of Player-488."

Player Four laughed. "Maybe he's good at those demon-hunting fantasy games or whatever, but this is COD. FPS is a whole different thing. I'll wait and see if he's actually good before I start fanboying."

Then Player One jumped back in, voice full of excitement. "Just so you know, I'm a YouTube streamer. This match is live. People are gonna freak when they see Player-488 in here."

Evan chuckled quietly and leaned back a little in his chair.

"My fans are watching now," he muttered with a grin. "Can't let them down. Even if I have to sacrifice a few teammates."

The plane rumbled closer to Black Market. A countdown timer blinked in the corner of the screen.

Player One spoke again. "Yeah, forget Black Market. I'm landing where Player-488's landing. Pipeline it is."

Player Two added quickly, "Same here. I'm sticking with him."

Player Four scoffed. "Whatever. Do your thing. I don't need teammates to win. I'll go solo."

Player Two fired back without skipping a beat. "Then if you get knocked, don't cry for someone to grab your dog tag. You'll be talking to yourself, bro."

The aircraft flew over Black Market. Player Four jumped early, disappearing into the distance. The rest stayed on board.

Player One, Player Two, and Player Three—Evan, known as PLAYER-488—waited as the drop zone moved closer to Pipeline.

Evan jumped first.

His boots landed on the rooftop of an old warehouse with a soft metallic thud. Player One and Player Two landed right after him, their parachutes snapping shut as they touched down.

Evan didn't waste time. He ran through a busted doorway, grabbed a shotgun from a nearby crate, and spun around just in time to take out an enemy sneaking up the stairs. One clean shot. No hesitation. He barely shifted before sliding forward and dropping a second opponent with another perfect blast to the chest.

A voice came through the mic, raspy and shocked.

"Holy fuck… it's Player-488. Dude, I'm your biggest fan! I've been praying I'd get to play with you someday."

Evan didn't reply. His fingers were already reloading as he crouched behind a low wall, eyes sharp, scanning for the next target

"But now," the enemy kept talking, "you've handed yourself over on a silver platter. My squad's the top-ranked team on this server, and they're coming for you."

There was a short pause. Then the voice came back, louder and more excited.

"My brother just saw your name on the stream. A YouTuber is live-streaming this match. Everyone's watching. And guess what? People are already betting you won't clear this lobby. Once my team picks up my tag and revives me, I'm coming straight for you."

Player One gave a low whistle and spoke into the team chat.

"He's not lying. I just checked YouTube. The views are going nuts. People are logging in just to watch you. This whole lobby's out for your blood now."

Evan didn't even blink.

He adjusted his headset, eyes locked on the screen, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"I'd love to see them try," he muttered quietly. His voice was calm. Too calm. Like he was already two steps ahead.

He stood up from his crouch and cocked the shotgun. The sharp click echoed through his headphones like a warning bell. Somewhere in the distance, the low hum of an ATV grew louder.

The hunt had officially begun.