Prologue ‒ Beyond the Screen
Prologue ‒ Beyond the Screen
“Bro, you’re doing it wrong!” Milo slapped Tyler’s hand away from the mouse.
“How can I be wrong? I’m literally walking forward. That’s it.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t pick your hybrid yet. Look—see? I’m going with Turtle + Yeti. Maximum defence, slow but tanky!” Milo grinned, proudly showcasing his furry-shelled monstrosity on screen.
Tyler blinked. “That is… one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen. It looks like it got kicked out of a zoo and an igloo at the same time.”
“You just don’t get it. This game’s about strategy. Stats!”
“Strategy? That thing looks like it can’t even walk without tipping over. Watch this.” Tyler leaned in and—
Click.
“Wait—WHAT?! YOU DELETED MY PROFILE?!”
“Yes. You’re welcome. And now… behold the glory of symmetry and sanity. Human + Human.”
“That’s not even the point of the game!”
“Exactly. That’s why no one’s doing it. I’ll be the only pure hybrid in a world of confused mutations.”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Milo growled. Tyler smirked.
Their mom shouted something from downstairs, but it was drowned by thunder outside. Rain lashed against the windows. The storm had arrived in full.
On screen, Tyler’s new character had begun punching a log-shaped creature until it exploded into pixelated goo. “Boom! Level 2.”
“Let me try,” Milo grumbled, pushing him off the chair.
He took control and charged toward a trio of mob creatures—angry-looking rabbits fused with some kind of bird.
“You might not want to—”
Tyler’s warning came too late. The mobs attacked together, reducing Milo’s character to a flattened puddle.
“Dude, I had full health!”
“And a full head of overconfidence.”
“You’re just mad because my Turtle-Yeti would’ve tanked that.”
“I’m mad because you’re trash at games.”
“Can you not be such a sore loser for once?” Milo muttered, glaring up from his seat.
Tyler rolled his eyes. “And can you not be the most annoying little brother on Earth?”
They were full-on bickering now, neither noticing the way the thunder seemed to shake not just the windows—but the floor.
A blinding flash lit the room.
Then—
CRACK.
Lightning struck.
Everything went black.
Tyler blinked. “Huh. Probably a really powerful cutscene. Milo, you seeing this?”
No response.
He rubbed his eyes. The darkness faded.
But what he saw next didn’t look like a loading screen.
There were trees, but they swayed as if made of cloth. The houses stood straight, but their roofs were oddly angled, like something drawn wrong. And the creature standing near him—half-squirrel, half-bird, with twitching wings and rodent eyes—was staring at him as if he was the one out of place.
His breath caught.
No keyboard. No screen. Just wind. Distant forest sounds.
Tyler slowly looked down at his hands. Human. Still human.
“No way…” he whispered.
He turned, taking in the strange land before him.
“Am I in a GAME?!”