In the real world, their ordinary lives continued. Saland and Haytham, now in their crucial fifth year at the prestigious World School, diligently pursued their studies. Shimmon, the university student, possessed a physique sculpted by unseen efforts, crowned by a mop of unruly black hair and illuminated by kind, green eyes. Academics came easily to him, yet even in the mundane reality, his heart resonated most with the inner beauty of souls, be they human or creature. Then there were the twins, Christa and Marty – or rather, the singular entity now known as Christy. Third-graders, mirror images with their neat black bobs, petite frames, and striking violet eyes, their only discernible difference had once lain in their temperaments: Marty, the quiet one; Christa, a spark of untamed energy. But the digital wounds inflicted by Bruhsuperdoom in the VR WORLD had irrevocably intertwined their virtual selves, and now, within that digital realm, their very minds were as one.
Two moons drifted by after their departure from the VR WORLD, a deceptive calm before the storm. Then, a digital whisper materialized on their phones – a message from Andrew, the once-unquestioned supreme admin. "If this message finds you," it began, a chilling premonition hanging in the digital air, "then I am likely gone. Sayler, the treacherous admin you once knew as a bandit, has returned. He has irrevocably twisted the very fabric of the VR WORLD, rewriting the game's core systems. Most admins may already be silenced, and I... I may be next. I pen these words even as I speak with him; only my remaining power allows this fleeting communication. Sayler has gathered a force, a hunt aimed at those who once held authority, but his ultimate design remains shrouded. Yet, now more than ever, the VR WORLD cries out for heroes like you. I implore you, lend us your strength."
The weight of Andrew's desperate plea settled heavily upon Saland, Haytham, Shimmon, and Christy. Without a word, a silent understanding passed between them. The call had come. They reached for their augmented reality consoles, familiar portals to a world now teetering on the brink. In moments, they were back, yet the VR WORLD that greeted them was a grotesque parody of the vibrant land they remembered. They materialized in disparate corners: Saland amidst the skeletal remains of a once-bustling city, Shimmon on the jagged peak of a black, ominous mountain, Haytham swallowed by a forest now choked with an unnatural stillness, and Christy stranded on a desolate, ochre expanse. The sky bled a perpetual crimson, the landscapes stretched out, devoid of life and variation, an echoing testament to a profound desolation. The vibrant tapestry of biomes had been bleached into a monotonous uniformity. Gone were the bustling players, the lively NPCs – only an unnerving emptiness remained. Their initial explorations began, each hero a solitary figure in this broken world, but the enemy's shadow was already lengthening, poised to strike.