They all knew exactly what that broadcast meant. Getting the world's first clear, regardless of the game, became a legendary feat that gamers talked about for years. Back in the day, in those old-school MMOs, the ones chasing that honor were usually household names—pro streamers, esports stars, or big-shot guilds everyone followed. Nighthale? Didn't ring a bell. Sounded like some rando who'd slipped through the cracks. Maybe a lone wolf trying to make a name for himself. Or a seasoned vet hiding behind a brand-new alias. As the news spread, people everywhere began speculating about the true identity of "Aiden." ... Spawnpoint 2743. A handful of players loitered around the digital plaza. Young men and women, geared up like everyone else, yet something about them was off—too sharp and composed. The way they moved screamed discipline.Nearby players glanced their way, then quickly looked elsewhere. Instinct told them to steer clear. Meanwhile, in the real world, things were spiraling out of control. Overnight, hospitals across Grendola had been flooded with cases of sudden organ failure. Every patient had one thing in common—they'd all been playing the same game. The government didn't wait around. By dawn, a joint task force had been formed to investigate. The people at Spawnpoint 2743 were their best. Every one of them was ex–special forces, trained killers with nerves of steel and years of combat behind them. ... "The world's first clear happened here, in Grendola?" "Looks like it, and the only one on the leaderboard is this... 'Nighthale.'" Their leader, a man with a clean crew cut and the kind of presence that filled a room, listened to the broadcast through his comms. Something about it set his instincts buzzing.He asked, "Harper, what do we have on him?" The woman next to him—sharp jawline, cold eyes—kept scrolling through her tablet. "He's logged in from Spawnpoint 9527. Our guess? Somewhere in Kroger." The crew-cut man blinked. "That's it?" Her tone stayed calm, efficient. Harper Rivas didn't miss details. She'd made a name for herself digging into anything with a digital pulse. Usually, she could pull up someone's entire history before they finished their coffee. Yet with Nighthale, the trail went cold. "That's all I could get," she replied, voice low. "This 'Doomsday' game... It's not behaving like any normal system." Her gaze sharpened, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Honestly? My gut says those organ failures are connected to in-game deaths. Die too many times in there, you fry something up here." The crew-cut man frowned, his jaw tightening. "Could be. Either way, this isn't just another game. We'll start by leveling up. Keep tracking Nighthale. Anything unusual, I want to know immediately." He turned to the rest. "Send a recon team to Kroger. Someone out there knows more." Harper gave a quick nod, though the question lingered in her mind. "We're supposed to uncover what 'Doomsday' really is. Focusing too long on a single suspect might lead us astray." "Yeah," a guy nearby muttered. "He's just a gamer, man. Probably some kid with fast reflexes. Doesn't mean anything." To most people, a world-first clear sounded godlike. To them, it was just another digital headline. They'd seen real war and death. Pixels didn't scare them. Most of these so-called top players were keyboard athletes—quick on a mouse, slow on their feet. In real life, they wouldn't last a minute under live fire. Meanwhile, veterans like them carried real battlefield instincts into virtual spaces and dominated. That's why half the top-tier players in shooter MMOs were ex-soldiers, mercs, or professional fighters. The line between gaming and war had always been thinner than people thought.Among those, Harper's squad was the cream of the crop. Each of them could handle a full op solo and walk out alive. So yeah, to them, gamers didn't seem all that impressive. Gave them a few hours, and they'd catch up to anyone. If they even cared enough to try. What they didn't realize was that if Aiden were there, he'd have recognized that crew-cut man instantly. RageSlash. In his last life, the man was one of Grendola's most feared powerhouses. Globally, he was in the top echelon—one step away from the Divine Player, the kind of fighter whose name alone drew crowds. The rest of the team might not have been quite on that level, but they were no less dangerous. RageSlash's voice dropped, steady and sure. "If this were just another game, I'd let it slide. Thing is, I've got a bad feeling. 'Doomsday' feels like it's about to flip the world upside down." His eyes narrowed, scanning the virtual horizon. "Whoever's already this far ahead? That guy's not ordinary. So we don't get to be careless."