PLAYER SYSTEM C15 SYNCHRONIZING

After logging out, Jack's avatar materialized in the BEYOND system lobby. He glanced up at the floating system clock: «8:45 PM».

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I’ve been playing for nearly three hours…” A faint grin tugged at his lips. “Blackstar really nailed it. They weren’t bluffing when they said time inside the game moves faster. Most VRMMORPGs only manage a one-hour acceleration, but The War of Eve runs at three times the speed.”

He yawned, swiping open the system menu. With a quick tap on [Exit], his avatar shimmered out of the lobby, and his consciousness began to shift back to reality.

Jack opened his eyes.

The familiar ceiling of his room greeted him. He sat up and took off the headset, setting it on his nightstand. Stretching lazily, he hopped off the bed—only to realize mid-jump that something felt... off.

He shot up way too high—almost brushing the ceiling. His blue eyes widened. “What the—?”

Gravity pulled him back down fast.

Thud.

He landed hard, his shoulder bumping the bedframe as his head grazed the mattress. “Ugh...” He winced, but blinked in surprise. “Wait… that didn’t hurt?”

Getting back on his feet, Jack looked at his palm, flexing it slowly.

“I actually feel... strong. And light.” He bounced on his heels. “And I should feel drained after three hours in-game, but instead... I feel pumped.” His voice was laced with awe. “This has to be the PLAYER ability.”

Excitement surged through him like a jolt of lightning. He clenched his fist, eyes gleaming. “If I hit level 12 in-game… does that mean I’ve reached level 12 in real life too?”

On instinct, he swiped his hand like pulling up a HUD—only to pause. “Ah, right. I can’t see my status unless I’m connected.”

He grabbed the headset, slipped it back on, and muttered, “Status.”

Instantly, a translucent panel flashed before his eyes:

[Status: PLAYER ability has detected an avatar from «The War of Eve». “Larkight” has been scanned.]

[A small percentage of Larkight’s status has been transferred.]

[To fully sync with Larkight’s power, PLAYER must undergo a painful synchronization process. This is required for first-time full sync.]

[Do you wish to proceed with the full sync? Estimated time: a few minutes.]

[Yes / No]

Jack raised an eyebrow. “‘Painful process,’ huh? Thanks for the friendly warning, system.”

Without hesitation, he tapped [Yes].

Jack braced himself, nerves tightening as he awaited the so-called “painful synchronization process.”

And sure enough—just seconds after tapping [Yes]—a crushing wave of pressure slammed into him.

“Argh—!” The cry tore at his throat, but he slapped a hand over his mouth, stifling the sound. He couldn’t risk triggering the Emergency Alarm System in his room. Still, a muffled groan escaped his clenched teeth.

His knees buckled. It felt like gravity had tripled. He dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, a sharp jolt shooting up his legs. His vision blurred as his head swam. Sleep pulled at him like a sedative, but he bit into his lip to stay conscious.

‘This pain… it’s insane.’ His mind raced, sweat dripping down his temple. ‘Feels like sleep paralysis, winter chill biting into my bones, and someone’s dropping boulders on my chest all at once.’

He trembled, blood now trickling from his bitten lip. Forcing his eyes open, he glanced at the system panel:

[Syncing: 10%... 15%...]

‘You’ve got to be kidding me. This is going to take actual minutes?! It feels like I’ve been stuck here for hours…’ He clenched his jaw, groaning inwardly. The headset gripped his skull like a vice, faint static buzzing against his scalp—like needles of electricity digging into his skin.

Time slowed.

Agony lingered.

But the progress bar ticked forward, one torturous percent at a time.

Then—

[Syncing: 99%...]

The pain began to lift, the crushing pressure slowly fading.

“Please… just hit 100 already…” he gasped through grit teeth.

And finally—

[Syncing Complete: 100%]

The weight vanished. His body eased. Jack collapsed backward, chest heaving. After a long breath, he sat up, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Praise the Lord…” he muttered with a dazed chuckle. “I never want to go through that again. That was worse than a root canal. No—maybe about the same... but everywhere.”

He glanced at his room. Thankfully, the Emergency System hadn’t gone off. “Good. I wouldn’t even know how to explain that.”

Peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt, Jack stretched his aching body—and paused.

His eyes drifted down.

“…What the hell?”

His chest and abdomen… toned. Defined. Not shredded like a bodybuilder, but sculpted in a way that was undeniably different from before. His fingers brushed his torso in disbelief. ‘Wasn’t this softer just this morning?’

He turned to the system panel that hovered nearby, now updated with a fresh layout. A semi-holographic interface displayed two side-by-side avatars.

One was his real-life self—shirtless, standing tall with newfound definition.

The other: Larkight. Fully equipped in his gear, holding the dagger at his side.

Above both was a label:

[PLAYER – First Avatar Slot]

Below it, two empty slots shimmered faintly.

Jack whistled low. “So… I really can slot in more avatars?”

His grin widened.

“This just keeps getting better.” Jack muttered, eyes scanning the panel. “So I didn’t get the full power of Larkight in my real body—but I can transform into my game avatar and access his full stats and abilities…” He stroked his chin, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah… that works well for me.”

Curious, he tapped into the help interface to learn more about the other avatar slots. As he read, the picture became clearer.

“So if I level up in the game, it won’t automatically boost my real body…” he murmured, brows tightening. “It’s not synced in real time—I’ll have to go through the syncing process again.”

He paused at the fine print and muttered aloud, “And I can only sync again once Larkight levels up by at least five levels... So no syncing at level 13 or 14, huh?”

He leaned back slightly, thoughtful. “Makes sense. Would be too broken if I could sync constantly.”

Then he glanced at the transformation function.

“But if I switch into my game avatar form,” he said, tapping the highlighted option, “I can use Larkight’s current level and abilities—no syncing required. I just won’t be using my real body. It's more like a temporary overlay.”

He sighed with a shrug. “Fair trade-off.”

His gaze dropped to the note at the bottom of the screen.

[Real Body Status Synced: Larkight (Level 10)]
[Next Sync Available: Avatar reaches Level 15]

“And probably another round of agony when that time comes…” Jack muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a dry laugh.

Still, he clenched his fist and smiled, feeling the subtle strength now coursing through his limbs. “Level 10’s just the beginning… but compared to my old self?”

He grinned.

“I already feel like a damn superhero.”

Right now, Larkight was only Level 12—just three more levels, and he’d be eligible to sync again at Level 15.