I always had that dream.
Sitting on a golden throne with angels kneeling at my feet, and my voice commanding worlds into existence. With the absolute power of creation at my fingertips, even the supreme gods bowed their heads before me like humble servants. I wasn't just a ruler—I was the King of All Gods. The one who wrote the rules that the others followed.
I was the creator of Divine Will—the game of the gods.
And then, every time, I woke up.
Usually to the gentle flicker of fluorescent lights in a cramped office cubicle, and the stiff ache in my neck from falling asleep on a cheap plastic chair. Today was no different. I groaned, rubbing my eyes. A half-finished spreadsheet stared back at me from my flickering monitor. Beside it, my notepad had a rough doodle of a horned crown, a shattered constellation, and a faceless god kneeling in a pool of stars.
"God-King Maximilian," I muttered under my breath with a smirk. "Get a grip."
Still, I didn't tear out the page. I never did.
Glancing at the clock, I found that it was 10:42 PM. I'd meant to grab dinner, not pass out like some overworked corpse. My half-eaten convenience store sandwich had gone stale, the edges curling like cardboard soaked in regret. At this hour, all my coworkers were long gone. No one had bothered to wake me—not out of malice, probably. Just exhaustion.
Since I never went to college, I started working straight out of high school. There wasn't much choice, not for an orphan whose foster parents only kept him around for the government money, then tossed him aside when he came of age.
This was life. Bills. Deadlines. A boss who called at 12 PM and still expected cheerful compliance. And dreams of divine power I couldn't shake, no matter how often I told myself it was just fantasy.
I stood up, stretched, and reached for the door.
That's when it happened.
A ripple, like heat haze, but it was golden and shimmering. The air grew heavy, pressing against me like invisible water, and everything slowed.
I blinked, and the office was gone. In its place stood ruin.
It was a city torn straight from an apocalyptic nightmare. Cracked pavement and twisted streetlights stretched in every direction. Broken cars littered the roads. In the distance, mindless, humanoid monsters wandered aimlessly. Grotesque octopuses latched onto their heads, covering most of their heads except for the mouth—some clinging tightly, others eerily floating in midair. I could hear wet, squelching sounds and the distant cries of something that used to be human.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I stumbled back. What is this?
Then the memories hit like a dam bursting.
Not my life—his life.
Mine.
I gasped, clutching my head as foreign knowledge and memories crashed through my mind. They were fragmented and disjointed—so chaotic I couldn't form a clear picture, couldn't make sense of what I was seeing. But I knew of one thing: I wasn't just Maximilian anymore.
I had been a God-King.
And this… this was my creation.
"Divine Will," I whispered.
I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. The air was thick with dust, carrying a faint metallic tang that stung my nostrils. My surroundings seemed surreal yet vivid, far too detailed to be a dream. The crumbling buildings, the distant wails of unseen creatures—everything felt tangible, too real to dismiss.
Am I still dreaming? Or have I truly been transported into that game? My thoughts raced as I took in the horrifying scene. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and for a moment, I hesitated to move. Panic threatened to take hold, but I pushed it aside, forcing myself to breathe steadily.
"Okay," I muttered under my breath, clenching and unclenching my fists. "Think, Maxim. If this is really Divine Will, there'll be rules. Mechanics. Something to ground me."
Suddenly, a sharp chime echoed in my ears, startling me. A translucent blue screen materialized before me, hovering just a few dozen centimeters away.
Scenario #1 [Survive the Horde]
Survive against the onslaught of Octoferals and their hosts, Octoferal Zombies, for half an hour.
Mission Type: Survival
Difficulty: F
Time Remaining: 30 minutes 0 seconds
Reward: 500 Soul Coins & Aleph-Tier General Lootbox
Penalty for Failure: Death
Extra Conditions:
Kill 10 Octoferals or Octoferal Zombies. (0/10)
Reward: Common-Grade Armament VoucherKill 25 Octoferals or Octoferal Zombies. (0/25)
Reward: Uncommon-Grade Armament VoucherKill 100 Octoferals or Octoferal Zombies. (0/100)
Reward: Two Uncommon-Grade Armament Vouchers
The glowing text was unmistakable. It was Divine Will. My heart pounded as the realization sank in. Was this some kind of elaborate simulation? Or had I truly entered the game world? Either way, there was no time for questions. The mission timer had started ticking down, and survival was the only priority.
"Are those… zombies?!" shouted someone nearby.
I wasn't alone. Around me stood about fifteen or so people with varying appearances and professions—young and old, clad in everything from modern attire to outfits straight out of a medieval drama. Some didn't even seem like they came from Earth. It was as though we'd been gathered here completely at random.
"Where are we?!" yelled a middle-aged man in a brown suit, his voice painfully loud in my ears.
"Who are you people?! Did you kidnap me here? I will report you to the police!" snapped a young woman, glaring at the group.
"This… this can't be real…" A white-haired old man sat hunched on the ground, his trembling hands gripping tufts of his unkempt hair. His tattered linen clothes, faded and patched, clung to his frail frame as he rocked slightly back and forth. "I was just tending the fields… How did I get here?!"
Their panic was infectious, and for a moment, I envied their confusion. They didn't know where they were, but I did. I understood the stakes, I understood everything, which also left me with no room for any denial. This was real. Or as real as it needed to be to kill me.
To my surprise, a young man—likely a few years older than me—stood out for his composure. He raised his hands in an attempt to steady the crowd. "Everyone, calm down! Can anyone remember what happened before we got here?"
But no matter how firm his tone, the group's anxiety about their unfamiliar surroundings rendered his efforts futile.
"Aahh! Mama, help me!" wailed a young girl wearing a school uniform, no older than fifteen.
So noisy.
They were panicking, of course, being thrust into a ruined city with no warning. Their fear was justified. But all that shouting would only serve to attract the humanoid monsters lurking nearby.
I wasn't calm. My heart was still hammering, and my stomach threatened to revolt, but panic was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Sure enough, a nearby group of monsters was attracted by the commotion and spotted us, then sluggishly ran our way. They were once human, possibly, but the octopi-creatures on their heads oozed a viscous, black goop that coated their bodies and seemed to be mutating them in some fashion. This, however, looked to have some detrimental side effects—they were slow and shambling. Unrefined in their movement.
"Grrraaagh..."
"Eek! The zombies are coming here!"
"Aaaah! Run!"
Panic erupted as everyone scrambled to flee in the opposite direction, shoving and jostling each other in a frantic attempt to escape the approaching horde.
"Out of my way, old man!" barked a man in gaudy attire as he shoved the white-haired farmer aside. The force sent the old man stumbling to the ground, his frail frame crumpling on the cracked pavement.
"Urgh…" The old man groaned, his hands trembling as he tried to push himself upright. His knees wobbled, and pain flickered across his weathered face, but he forced himself to rise, glancing over his shoulder at the encroaching monsters.
Thankfully, before he could collapse again, a hand shot out, gripping his arm and pulling him up. "Come on! Don't stop now!" shouted a young woman with blond hair and simple, old attire. Without waiting for a response, she dragged the old man forward, keeping him moving with the panicked crowd.
My instincts screamed at me to join them, but I forced myself to stay calm. Running aimlessly wouldn't solve anything. Instead, I scanned the area for anything useful, quickly finding a sharp, 1.5-meter-long steel pipe lying amidst the rubble. Without hesitation, I grabbed it, testing its weight in my hands before swiftly following the group.
Broken Steel Pipe
Grade: Common
Type: Spear
Just a broken pipe found on the street that just so happens to have a sharp edge.
Durability: 8/8
I glanced at the fleeing crowd, then back at the oncoming monsters. My hands were shaking, my breath shallow, but I couldn't afford to freeze.
Survival? Hah, running away aimlessly won't get you anywhere. I forced a smirk, more out of habit than confidence, and swept my gaze across the chaos. Moving quickly, I scanned the area for high ground where I could gain an advantage before my gaze settling on a narrow pedestrian overpass nearby.
But just as I turned toward it, another group of flying octopuses and zombies—two dozen strong—emerged from the intersection ahead, cutting off the path.
[Octoferal – Lv.1]
Looks like an octopus, but don't let appearance trick you, as it can turn you into its host. Tasty if cooked, but it will give you intense diarrhea.
[Octoferal Zombies – Lv.2]
Once a human, now transformed into a zombie controlled by the octopus-like monster on its head. Sluggish and slow, but deadly.
"Oh, no! They're in front of us!"
"What should we do?"
Fear swept through the group like a tidal wave. Their expressions were painted with sheer panic, and their movements frozen in hesitation. It was clear that none of them had anticipated such a dire situation. Barely a minute had passed, and already, it seemed inevitable that they'd be wiped out in less than five if they didn't act.
"Everyone! Don't panic!" The same courageous young man from before stepped forward, brandishing a metal signboard as an improvised weapon. He planted his feet firmly as he tried to take control of the situation. "Grab whatever you can use as a weapon! Rocks, pipes, anything! Join me to fight these monsters!"
His words struck a chord with some of the group. A few snapped out of their terror and began scanning the area for anything remotely useful. A bald, burly man wearing only a tank top and jeans grabbed a shattered plank, while the blonde-haired young woman from earlier pulled a broken glass bottle from the rubble.
"Stay together! Aim for the ones closest to you!" the young man continued, positioning himself at the front. "They're just slow and weak zombies! We can do this if we work together!"
I couldn't help but admire his nerve, but his plan had two glaring flaws—these weren't your ordinary zombies, and most of them had ignored the flying octopuses. These creatures darted through the air with an unsettling speed, and their grotesque forms pulsed as if alive with malice. Behind them, the zombies relentlessly lumbered forward, their gaping maws slack and twitching as if driven by an insatiable hunger. The grotesque tentacles writhing over their heads made it impossible to tell if they even had eyes, yet their movements were unnervingly precise, as though they could still see us—no, sense us—like prey.
I tightened my grip on the broken steel pipe, looking at its sharp edge glinting under the pale sun and feeling the quick thumping in my chest. Teamwork might work for now, I thought, but if things go south, I'll have to rely on myself.
As the creatures drew closer, the young man shouted one last rallying cry. "Everyone, let's attack together!"
With a roar, most of the group charged forward, weapons raised, colliding with the monsters in a desperate bid for survival. Fueled by the presence of the young man leading them, almost everyone seemed to believe that defeating the zombies was within reach.
I personally didn't share their optimism. But an organized crowd was better than a chaotic one, so I joined the charge.
Focusing on the nearest zombie, I drove my steel pipe into its chest. The sensation was nauseating—the resistance of decaying flesh and the sickening squelch as the pipe pierced through sent chills down my spine. It was nothing like slicing meat with a knife.
"Ghuuuuaaa!" The zombie groaned, its rotting body twisting as it lashed out, claws swiping dangerously close.
"Shit!" I cursed, releasing the steel pipe and delivering a swift kick to its leg. Thanks to my tall six-foot-three stature, I was able to topple it to the ground. Wasting no time, I yanked the steel pipe free from its chest with a grunt, pinning it down with my foot as it thrashed beneath me.
I struck again, driving the pipe into its octopus-covered head with all my strength. Then again. And again. The sickening crunch of bone and the spray of putrid fluids made my stomach churn, but I didn't stop until the zombie went still. Or maybe it was the sudden appearance of a blue text before me that finally made me pause.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
Before I could get a good look, a creature swooped down at me from above. Instinctively, I thrust the steel pipe toward it, feeling somewhat lucky as I managed to pierce something as sickening as the decaying flesh of the zombie. Black blood splattered across my face.
The stench of decaying flesh hit me, bile rising in my throat as I wiped my face. Yuck! But survival came first—disgust could wait.
You have hunted [Octoferal Lv.1].
You have gained 10 EXP.
Throwing the octopus to the ground, I wiped my face and then surveyed my surroundings. Although those who had charged forward had shown considerable bravery, some were injured. A man clutched a bloodied arm, his shirt sleeve torn and soaked crimson. Nearby, the girl in school clothes limped, her face twisting in pain as she tried to stay upright. Others sported bruises, shallow cuts, and trembling hands from their frantic clashes with the monsters.
Still, no one had died yet. Despite the monsters' overwhelming numbers, we had managed to push them back. My eyes landed on the bald, burly man whose raw strength tore through the creatures with precision, and the blonde-haired young woman who wielded her weapon with determination. Most importantly, if we could keep up this momentum, surviving the thirty minutes didn't seem impossible.
"Just a little bit more! We can push them back! After that, we should find a narrow place to hold until the countdown is up!" the young man shouted, trying to boost our morale.
But as hope seemed to be on our side, it happened.
One of the flying octopuses latched onto the young man's head unnoticed, swiftly enveloping almost his entire skull, except for his mouth. In a moment, a horrifying sound of bone crunching emanated from his face. It was gruesome.
Time Remaining: 21 minutes 47 seconds