422 Tutorial

[POV: Gabriel]

Gabriel woke before his alarm, the pale light of a Parisian morning slipping through the thin curtains of his apartment. For a while, he lay still, staring at the faint discoloration on the ceiling and listening to the familiar sounds that told him the city was already awake. The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen. Somewhere below, a delivery truck rattled over uneven pavement, followed by a man's voice calling out an order.

He rose, padded barefoot into the kitchen, and brewed coffee in a chipped porcelain mug he had owned since university. The mug was stained along the rim, the blue pattern faded from years of use. The smell of coffee filled the small space and settled his thoughts in a way few things could. He buttered a slice of bread, ate it standing by the window, and watched a woman walk her dog past the boulangerie on the corner. The baker was already open. Even from this height, the scent of fresh bread drifted upward, rousing his appetite.

Gabriel worked as an archivist, a profession that suited him better than he cared to admit. At the office, his days were spent with old documents, letters written in tight, slanted handwriting, reports yellowed by time and handled by generations of hands. He liked the quiet order of it. The past could be catalogued, arranged, and cross-referenced, even if life itself refused to be.

At noon, he ate lunch alone on a bench by the canal. A sandwich, an apple, and a cigarette he promised himself he would quit someday. He watched the water move sluggishly beneath the gray sky and thought, not for the first time, that Paris was at its most honest when it was understated.

In the afternoon, a colleague stopped by his desk.

"Have you noticed the heating?" she asked, dropping into the chair opposite him without waiting for an invitation. "It's either freezing or unbearable. There's no in-between."

Gabriel nodded. "It's always been like that."

She launched into a complaint about politics, then about the administration, then about nothing in particular. He listened, offered a half-smile at the appropriate moments, and returned to his papers once she finally left. The clock moved slowly, but it moved.

After work, he walked home instead of taking the métro. He stopped at the bakery, exchanged a few polite words with the woman behind the counter, and carried a warm loaf under his arm. In the evening, he cooked something simple. Pasta, garlic, olive oil. He ate standing at the counter while the radio murmured softly in the background.

That was usually what Gabriel's days were like.

Before bed, he would normally pick up a novel he had been reading for weeks, grow tired after a few pages, and fall asleep with the light still on.

However, tonight was different.

Lost Legends Online was getting a spin-off, and Gabriel had been invited as a beta tester. The thought had been sitting at the back of his mind all day, quietly waiting for the moment it could surface. LLO had been a mess of a game. The balance was terrible, the PvP a nightmare. He remembered creating an absurdly cute druid, purely out of spite, and watching as the rest of the group became irrationally protective of the character in combat.

Gabriel had stayed for the lore.

The NPCs, more than anything else. They reacted too naturally, spoke with a consistency and depth that made them feel uncomfortably real. If the spin-off could offer better gameplay while preserving that strange, unsettling sense of presence, then it might be worth the time.

Still, he was not naive. MMORPGs were no longer what they used to be. The market favored tightly written single-player experiences now, games with strong narratives and finite endings. Loyalty was a weak reason to keep playing, but for Gabriel, it was reason enough.

He sat at his desk and pressed the power button on his PC.

The familiar startup sound filled the room, brighter than any conversation he had that day. He put on his headphones and leaned back in his chair as the screen flickered to life. The website loaded slowly, dramatic artwork unfurling across the screen. A dark expanse of outer space, the ruins of a shattered temple drifting in silence, forests growing where no forest should exist.

[Lost Paladin Online.]

Gabriel frowned faintly. "No druids," he muttered.

He connected to the open voice channel. Instantly, the room filled with noise.

"Bloody hell, this UI is already pissing me off," someone said in a thick English accent.

A Japanese accent followed, indignant. "Why is the chest slider capped? This is censorship."

Another accent, loud and unmistakably Russian, laughed. "Doesn't matter. I will break this game with warrior."

It was utter chaos, most of them slipping in there native tongue as they quarreled, joked, and teased each other.

Karen's voice cut through them. "Everyone, shut up and speak English that I can understand. I swear, it's like herding cats."

Gabriel smiled despite himself. This group had scattered across time zones and continents, yet here they were again, drawn together by the promise of something new.

Character creation loaded. He scanned the available classes, a touch of disappointment lingering at the absence of anything resembling a druid. Paladin was front and center, unsurprisingly. Other roles branched from it in unfamiliar directions, each with descriptions that hinted at strange mechanics and heavier consequences than he was used to.

Karen cleared her throat over the mic.

"Alright, listen up," she said. "This is a beta, but don't treat it like a joke. The tutorial is going to be obscenely tough. I mean it. Take your time choosing your classes, read the tooltips, and think about party roles before you lock anything in."

Someone groaned. "You're exaggerating."

"I'm not," Karen replied flatly. "If you rush this, you're going to regret it."

A voice crackled through the open mic.

"Hey, where's David?" someone asked. "Wasn't he the Paladin guy?"

Gabriel glanced back to the class selection screen, the artwork slowly rotating in the background. The premise of Lost Paladin Online was simple on the surface: a Paladin lost in a foreign cosmology, a world governed by immortals, alien laws, and histories that did not care for mortal morality. On paper, it sounded restrictive. In practice, the branching paths hinted at something far more flexible.

"It'd be boring if we were all Paladins," Gabriel muttered to himself, scrolling.

Karen answered before anyone else could derail the discussion. "Don't think of this like LLO," she said firmly. "The skill system is completely different. There are no spell slots."

That got their attention.

"Instead," Karen continued, "you have two resources. Health and Spark. Both are percentage-based. Regular skills consume Spark. Ultimates consume both Health and Spark."

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There was a brief silence.

"That's disgusting," the Russian player finally said, sounding impressed.

"It's deliberate," Karen replied. "You can't brute-force your way through fights. If you panic and mash ultimates, you'll kill yourself faster than the enemy will."

A player with an Indian accent chimed in, cautious. "Should we do a headcount first?"

"Two aren't coming," Karen said. "Our Polish friend is out, and so is the maple syrup addict."

"Hey," someone protested. "That Canadian started the entire PvP culture in LLO. Put more respect to his name."

"Exactly," Karen replied dryly. "He's busy starting wars elsewhere."

Before Gabriel could comment, a familiar voice joined the channel, smooth and unhurried.

"Heyo, fellow human beings," the voice said. "Da Wei has arrived."

There was a pause.

"…Who?" someone asked.

"I mean David," the voice clarified. "Yeah. David."

Recognition spread instantly.

"Oh hell yeah."

"That makes eight players."

Karen sighed. "For the record, I'm not playing. I'm advising."

"Same," David added. "I won't be in the field."

A feminine voice with a refined English accent cut in sharply. "Oh, now you say that? You disappeared right after my Fanarys confessed to your Paladin. Do you have any idea how cruel that was?"

David laughed. "My little David_69 was already far too invested in his married life. As for where I went, I was kidnapped by aliens and forced to make this game so I could save the people I love."

Laughter erupted across the channel.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "Sure," he said lightly. "And Karen's not playing because you two are obviously doing something thrilling behind our backs."

Karen did not miss a beat. Gabriel's mic went dead.

Her voice followed, icy and precise. "The love lives of our avatars are sacred. They are not to be conflated with the personal lives of the players. Respect that. It's like DND, okay?"

Someone snorted. "There are really people who treat their characters like dolls."

Gabriel smirked to himself as his mic came back online. Teasing, he decided, was one of the few arts that never lost its value.

He refocused on the screen.

They were being allowed to create Level 300 characters straight out of the gate. It was an absurd starting point, but also revealing. This was not a slow-burn introduction. The game expected competence, or it would punish ignorance brutally.

Six archetype classes sat before him, labeled as Paths.

Human. Ghost. Animal. Asura. Hell. Heaven.

Each branched further, promising radically different identities rather than minor statistical variations. For a beta, it was a small selection, but dense enough to suggest intention rather than limitation.

"More will come later," Karen said, as if reading their thoughts. "Right now, this is about testing creative philosophy, not content volume."

David's voice returned, suddenly earnest. "Listen, everyone. Please—please!—consider taking Divine Possession if it's available to your build. It's expensive, yes, but trust me. You'll need it."

Gabriel paused, hovering his cursor over a branching node that pulsed faintly with light.

Divine Possession.

The name alone carried weight.

He did not yet understand why David sounded almost desperate, but something in his tone made Gabriel hesitate before dismissing the advice. The roster filled itself out quickly, names snapping into place with the familiarity of old habits.

From the old LLO group, almost everyone had shown up.

Gabriel was already smiling wryly as he remembered his old avatar, the druid Yggdra, a leafy terror in PvP and an unrepentant nuisance in raids. Fanarys was here too, unmistakable even through voice alone. Arthur, the Russian warrior, loud and enthusiastic as ever. Robin, the Japanese "guy" whose cadence and timing had long made Gabriel suspicious of 'her' gender. Corvus, ever the enigma, voice distorted and nationality conveniently absent. And Ivan, their Indian necromancer, whose calm explanations had once carried entire raid nights.

Fanarys spoke first, decisive. "I'm DPS. Hell Path."

Ivan followed immediately. "DPS as well. Asura Path."

Robin did not hesitate. "DPS. Human Path."

Corvus added, almost lazily, "DPS. Ghost Path."

There was a beat of silence.

Gabriel swore loudly. "Oh, for the love of—someone please play support or tank!"

No sound came out.

He froze, then remembered.

"Karen," he said, forgetting himself.

Muted.

With a scowl, Gabriel leaned forward and began typing furiously in the group chat, caps-lock doing most of the emotional labor.

[ARE YOU ALL OUT OF YOUR MINDS THIS IS A BETA, NOT A SPEEDRUN TO A WIPE WE NEED A TANK OR SUPPORT OR BOTH]

Arthur's voice cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "I'll tank. Heaven Path."

Karen exhaled audibly, a sound somewhere between relief and long-suffering resignation. Gabriel's mic clicked back on.

"Thank God," she said. "Arthur, you're a saint. The rest of you, honestly, screw the lot of you. Why is it always Gabriel and Arthur who have to make concessions?"

Gabriel snorted. "Because we have functional brains."

He scrolled again, eyes lingering on the available Paths. "Fine. I'll go support."

"What Path?" Robin asked.

Gabriel hovered his cursor, then sighed. "Animal Path."

There was a pause.

"…Animal?" Fanarys repeated. "That sounds terrible."

"Exactly," Gabriel said. "Why is it called Animal Path? Shouldn't it be Beast Path? Or Wild Path? Animal Path sounds like I'm about to multiclass into a petting zoo."

"Blame the company," Karen replied flatly. "They're very particular about terminology. Don't ask."

Gabriel entered character creation properly, curiosity overriding his irritation. The Animal Path unfolded into subcategories that made his eyebrows rise.

Mammals. Birds. Reptiles. Amphibians. Fish.

Each branch expanded further, and further still, until his screen was crowded with silhouettes and names.

"Why are there so many?" he muttered.

It was excessive and absurdly so. As if someone had taken the entire animal kingdom and decided nothing should be left out. Gabriel scrolled, baffled, then amused.

"What were the devs thinking?" he asked aloud.

No one answered.

On a whim, he typed amoeba into the search bar.

No results.

"Well," Gabriel said dryly, "at least they drew the line somewhere."

He chuckled, then did something impulsive.

"Rooster it is."

Laughter erupted over the mic.

"You're kidding," Arthur said.

"Nope," Gabriel replied. "If I'm suffering, I'm doing it with style."

He began selecting skills and perks, reading carefully now. The system was different. It was cleaner and sharper. No passive cluttered skills. Everything was on active skills now. The perks were new and felt deliberate, more like embedded mechanics than stat boosts.

One name caught his eye.

[Malevolent Shrine.]

"…That does not sound Paladin-like," Gabriel murmured. "Hey, anyone here thinking of taking it?"

Fanarys laughed. "Are you taking it?"

He hovered over the icon, temptation flickering.

"…No," he said reluctantly. "But wow, I want to."

The realization settled in as he continued building. This system was better, riskier, meaner, and more expressive. Whatever else this game turned out to be, it was not afraid to let players hang themselves with their own choices.

"Gabriel?" someone called over the mic. "Are you done yet? We're literally waiting on you."

Gabriel bristled, fingers still dancing across too many menus. "Calm down," he snapped back. "There are too many tabs, too many paths, and for the record—" he leaned closer to the mic, enunciating with petty precision, "—it's Gah-bree-EL."

A stream of rapid curses followed, flowing effortlessly in his native tongue as he finalized his last perk. He slammed confirm, exhaled, and typed in the username he'd decided on the fly.

Gab_Yggdra.

"Done," he announced, tone sharp but satisfied.

The world loaded.

The Temple of the End unfolded beneath him, vast and solemn, floating in a sea of stars. Gabriel's perspective dipped as his character descended from above, and he burst out laughing despite himself.

He was still a rooster.

Feathers gleamed faintly with a supportive aura, talons scraping against ancient stone as he landed. No Human Transformation perk meant no dignity, but at this point, he leaned into it.

One by one, the others logged in around him.

Hellspawn_Fanarys appeared first. She was a red-haired, voluptuous woman with curling horns and embers drifting lazily from her skin. She cracked her neck as if the world were already hers to burn.

Saber_Arthur materialized next: a blond warrior woman clad in radiant armor, sword resting on her shoulder. The resemblance to a certain anime heroine was so blatant it bordered on parody.

Terrible_Shura_Ivan spawned with a heavy thud, a towering, muscular barbarian carrying an axe that looked too big for physics to approve of.

Robin_Hoodie followed, a lithe woman with orange-and-silver hair and a bow already half-drawn, eyes sharp and calculating.

Finally, Corvus_Murder emerged silently, a man with dark purple hair and, inexplicably, a scythe slung across his back. Gabriel squinted.

"A scythe?" he muttered. "Of course."

For a moment, no one spoke.

It struck Gabriel then, how long it had been since they'd all stood together like this, even if only as avatars. Different lives, different time zones, but same ridiculous camaraderie.

Then the environment asserted itself.

Below them stretched the Temple of the End. It was a colossal island of ruins and broken altars, suspended in nothingness. Above it loomed an impossible sight, an enormous world hanging in the void, unmistakably Earth-like, with a sun and moon calmly orbiting it as though gravity itself had taken leave of its senses.

A quest prompt flared into existence before Gabriel's eyes.

[Main Quest: Defend the Source.]

At the heart of the temple floated a miniature world, small enough to cradle in two hands, yet radiating an overwhelming presence of being important. Before it stood a strange man in ruined robes, his chest exposed and open.

There was a hole straight through him.

A nameplate appeared overhead.

[Martial God Feng Wei] [Level: 1,000]

The voice chat exploded.

"What the hell?"

"Level one thousand!?"

"Is that even legal?"

"Karen, what kind of tutorial is this!?"

Gabriel didn't speak. His rooster avatar tilted its head upward, feathers ruffling in the unreal wind.

A level one thousand enemy.

In the tutorial.

He swallowed, equal parts dread and exhilaration tightening in his chest.

"…Guys," he said slowly, "I don't think this is supposed to be beatable."