Running away to another town to grind mobs was an option, one that might actually keep Ethan Quinn off his back for a while. But Fynn Solo couldn’t stomach the humiliation. He had spent over two years cultivating his image and his "skills" to reach his current heights; he wasn't about to let some random player in a death-game push him around.
"Ladies, we’re logging out," Fynn announced to his trailing flock of fans within Ember Hollow. "I'm going to buy up Lifespan in the real world and convert it into top-tier gear. When we come back, we’ll be fully kitted. Our combat power will skyrocket, and then we'll see how 'Shade' handles a real fight."
With that, Fynn Solo vanished into a cloud of logout pixels. His loyal sycophants—dozens of them—followed suit immediately.
For these women, the experience was a traumatic blur of euphoria and terror. On one hand, they had finally gotten close to their idol. On the other, they had been systematically slaughtered by Shade. As they transitioned back to the physical world, their group chats exploded.
"I can't believe I actually stood that close to him..."
"Fynn looked so cool when he was casting... even if we were losing."
"It was perfect until that Shade psycho showed up. He’s like a rabid dog, just biting everyone for no reason!"
"He’s clearly just jealous of Fynn's fame. Whatever. I heard you can buy Lifespan with cash now. Let’s pool our money and buy enough to deck out our King!"
Most of these fanatics still didn't grasp the gravity of what Godsfall actually was. They had spent their entire playtime revolving around Fynn Solo, ignoring the emergency broadcasts and government confirmations flooding the real-world news. To them, Lifespan was just another resource to be gifted to their idol.
That ignorance shattered the moment they checked their phones and televisions. The official announcements were inescapable: Godsfall was a supernatural reality. Tradeable Lifespan, Bound Lifespan—it was all literal. If your clock hit zero, you died in your sleep.
The realization hit them like a lightning strike.
"Wait... this isn't a game?"
"Shade killed us three times. My Tradeable Lifespan is gone, and I only have a few years of Bound time left!"
"I had seventy years! Now I'm down to one? How is that possible?"
"I killed other players to protect Fynn... I had the Slayer’s Mark. The penalty for dying with the mark is double..."
"Oh god, I only have two years left. This can't be real. It can't be!"
Regret, cold and heavy, began to set in. They had played the role of meat shields for Fynn, throwing their lives away for a man who didn't even know their names. Now, they were looking at a literal death sentence. While a few remained truly brainwashed, most were staring at their remaining "years" with a hollow sense of doom.
Meanwhile, Fynn Solo wasn't mourning his fans. He was on the phone, screaming at brokers.
"Buy it! I don't care if the price for Tradeable Lifespan is ten thousand a day! I’ve got a hundred million in liquid assets... the agency took the rest, those vultures, but a hundred million is enough. Get me a few thousand days. I'm going to buy every skill book and artifact on the market. Let’s see Shade try to kill me when I’m a walking fortress."
Fynn thought he was safe because he had retreated to the physical world. He didn't realize that in this new era, the real world was becoming the most dangerous place of all.
Back in Ember Hollow, Ethan Quinn stood in the town square. Iris Snow was waiting for him, looking visibly shaken.
"If Fynn Solo logs back in, message me immediately," Ethan said.
Iris nodded, her eyes darting away from his mask. After witnessing the effortless massacre Shade had unleashed on the fan club—the way he had left a literal field of corpses in his wake—she was terrified of him.
"Here," Ethan said, pulling a shimmering tome from his inventory. "Gold-tier Cleric skill. Want it?"
Iris’s eyes widened. It was Blade of Divine Verdict, a rare offensive miracle. Most Clerics were relegated to pure support, but this skill provided a massive burst of single-target holy damage. It was a game-changer.
"Yes! I mean, definitely," she stammered.
"Five hundred days of Lifespan."
Iris froze, her face falling. She rubbed her hands together awkwardly. "Um, Mr. High-and-Mighty... can I, uh, pay in installments? Or maybe a tab?"
Ethan looked her over. "I'll give it to you for half price if you do one thing for me."
Iris immediately took two steps back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just so we’re clear, I don't do that kind of service..."
Ethan stared at her through the eye slits of his mask, unimpressed. "What are you even talking about? I need you to join a friend’s team."
He needed a way to get his sister, Evie, out of Victor’s group. Evie was a liability, and Victor’s team was becoming a professional powerhouse. Replacing her with a Hidden Class healer like Iris—a White Heron Oracle—was the perfect solution.
Iris tilted her head, considering it. "Fine. But if they’re a bunch of scrubs, I’m complaining to you."
Ethan let out a short, dry laugh. "They aren't scrubs. They’re decent."
If Victor had heard Ethan describe his elite government-backed squad as "decent," he probably would have coughed up blood.
Ethan sent a private message to Victor. [I have a lead on a healer. Hidden Class: White Heron Oracle. She’s top-tier. You looking to upgrade?]
He expected some hesitation, but the reply came back almost instantly.
[Victor: Shade, you're a lifesaver. We’re in Shellcroft right now, but the player density here is insane. We were looking for a reason to move. We'll head to Ember Hollow immediately.]
In Shellcroft, Victor closed his chat window and let out a long, exhausted breath. He had been planning to drop Evie Quinn anyway.
As a Cleric, her job was simple: keep the buffs up and the health bars full. But in Godsfall, there was no "auto-lock" for heals. You had to aim. You had to time the incantations. And Evie was a disaster. Every time a fight got intense, she panicked, her heals flying wide or hitting the ground while the frontline players were inches from death.
Victor was a professional, and he had orders to maintain a good relationship with Shade. Taking Shade’s recommendation and cutting the dead weight was the easiest decision he’d made all day.
"Evie," Victor said, his voice measured and diplomatic. "Shellcroft is getting too crowded. We’re moving to a different zone to grind, but since you’ve already used your free transfer, we don't want to force you to spend your own Lifespan to follow us. Plus, we’re meeting up with some... official colleagues to fill out the roster."
Evie blinked, a look of disappointment crossing her face. She had been hoping Victor would just pay the hundred-day transfer fee for her. "Oh... I see."
"You’ve still got me on your friend list," Victor added with a polite, empty smile. "Reach out if you need anything."
"Sure. Thanks, Victor."
Evie felt a sting of rejection, but she quickly masked it. Her goal was still the same: use Victor to get to Shade. She didn't realize that Victor’s "kindness" was purely performative. He had no intention of ever partying with her again.
A few minutes later, the teleportation circle in Ember Hollow flared to life. Victor stepped out with three others: Finn, a young Ranger named Sharpshot, and a middle-aged man who held a deck of glowing cards—a Hidden Class known as a Cardmancer.
Victor walked straight to Ethan and initiated a trade, transferring 800 days of Lifespan.
"I still owe you five hundred for the last batch," Victor said with a weary grin. "Captain Vera is on her way with the rest. Man, earning Lifespan is getting harder by the hour."
Captain Vera? Ethan noted the name.
"This is Snowfall," Ethan said, gesturing to Iris. "She’s your new Oracle. Work it out among yourselves."
Just then, a blur of motion emerged from the teleportation chamber. A woman in silver-white light armor sprinted toward them, a longsword bouncing at her hip. Her hair flowed behind her like a banner, and her expression was one of pure, unadulterated excitement.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. He recognized her instantly.
Vera. The 'Dragonblade.'
In his past life, she was one of the top twenty players on the planet—a legendary vanguard for the Daxia Realm. She was a powerhouse who had haunted the nightmares of overseas factions.
I remember her being a solo act or part of a different unit. Why is she with Victor’s squad this time? Ethan wondered.
"Shade! Wow, it’s actually you!" Vera skidded to a halt in front of him, her eyes shining with genuine hero worship. She thrust her hand out. "It’s such an honor! I'm Vera. I’ve been following your kill-logs—I'm a huge fan!"
Ethan stood frozen for a second. It was surreal. In his previous life, Vera—then known by her title 'Justicar'—had been a peer, someone he couldn't even beat in a duel because his 'Warrior' class was too common compared to her unique 'Dragonblade' evolution.
Now, she was a Level 5 novice looking at him like he was a god.
He had progressed so far, so fast, that he had already surpassed the legends of the old world. He reached out and shook her hand firmly. "Hello."
"Your growth rate is insane," Vera chirped, a playful smirk on her face. "I was telling Victor earlier—I bet you're a time traveler or a ghost from the future or something. Heh."
Ethan’s expression remained unreadable behind his mask. A time traveler? You have no idea.
"Let's settle the bill," Vera said, opening a trade window. "Victor owes you five hundred. I've got the official Rivenhaven treasury on me."
Ethan accepted the trade. It made sense; as a Dragonblade, Vera had the highest survivability of anyone in the government’s roster. She was the safest "bank" they had.
As the transaction finalized, Vera tilted her head and winked at him. "If you find any more high-end gear, we’re buying. Everything. Also... since I'm carrying the entire city’s savings, you aren't going to murder me for it, are you?"
She said it with a smile, but Ethan could see the sharpness in her eyes. It was a test. She wanted to see if he was a partner they could trust, or a predator they needed to fear.