John stared at the glowing globe for a long moment, fingers hovering over the controls like he was afraid the whole thing might vanish if he moved too fast.
The death logs had given him the confirmation he needed, Selio's name sat there plain and cold, lesser feral hybrid, died three days ago after washing up on the riverbank.
He didn't hesitate any longer.
With a quick tap on the tablet he selected the revive option, poured in the necessary essence from his growing kill-count bank, and watched the system window flash green. The air in front of him shimmered, folding in on itself like paper being creased, and then Selio appeared.
The thick little furry hybrid materialized on all fours, gray fur sleek and damp like he had just climbed out of the river again. His big dark eyes blinked slowly, webbed hands pressing flat against the stone floor of the office as he tried to get his bearings. John's chest tightened with something warm and painful at the same time. He stepped forward without thinking, arms opening for a hug, the same way he would have done back when they were running from Gregor and the slavers. "Selio… it's me. You're safe now. I got you back."
Selio's head snapped up. His ears flattened against his skull and he scrambled backward on all fours, claws scraping the stone as he pressed himself into the corner between the desk and the wall. His whole body quivered, small whimpers slipping out between sharp breaths, eyes wide and glassy with fear. He curled into a tight ball, tail wrapping around his legs, webbed fingers covering his face like he expected a kick or a boot any second. John's heart sank so fast it felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Did he not remember him? After everything they had gone through together, the bread, the fight, the escape, did Selio really not know who was standing right there?
Then it clicked. John looked down at himself, at the tall, sharp-featured overlord body he had been wearing since the avatar rebuild.
Of course Selio didn't recognize him.
This wasn't the same short, soft, nerdy kid who had crawled out of the river half-dead and shared a moment of quiet safety with him. This body was different, taller, stronger, completely foreign. John's stomach twisted harder.
He really didn't want to go back to that chud body, the greasy hair, the soft belly, the face that had gotten him laughed at and beaten for years. But for Selio… he guessed he had to.
With a reluctant sigh he opened the system window again, selected the avatar reset, and let the change wash over him.
The tall frame shrank in on itself, muscles softening, height dropping until he was back to five-foot-eight of doughy, unremarkable nerd. Greasy black hair flopped over his forehead, taped glasses reappeared on his nose, and the soft belly pressed against the front of his shirt. It felt awful, like sliding back into an old skin he had outgrown in every way that mattered.
But when he looked up, Selio's ears perked slightly. The hybrid's head tilted, dark eyes narrowing as the gears turned behind them. Recognition flickered across his face, slow and cautious, but it was there. He remembered. Still, Selio didn't uncurl. He stayed balled up in the corner, quivering harder, small whimpers turning into quiet, broken sounds that made John's chest ache even worse.
That was when it hit him. Those fucking adventurers. The ones who had found Selio's body after the waterfall.
The ones who had raped the corpse and laughed about it like it was nothing.
John's hands clenched into fists so tight his nails dug into his palms.
The realization burned through him like acid, every detail from the death logs flashing behind his eyes.
Selio had been violated even in death, used and discarded by the same kind of scum who had made this world hell for everyone weaker than them. John's breath came faster, rage building until it felt like his ribs were too small to hold it all. He had been fuming before, but this was different. This was the kind of anger that didn't cool down. This was the kind that started wars.
"Fuck it," he muttered, voice shaking. "I'm starting Armageddon."
He turned away from Selio for a second, just long enough to walk back to the PC setup and drop into the chair.
The triple monitors flared to life as he typed in the search for the kingdom those adventurers had come from. Audidale guild in Mousche. The map zoomed in fast, pulling up the capital city gates and the guild hall marked in bright red. John didn't bother reading the rest of the details. He changed his avatar back to the overlord form, taller now, sharper, the power settling into his bones like it had been waiting for him to stop pretending. It didn't matter what he looked like on the outside anymore. The rage was all that counted.
He clicked on the teleport map and selected the spot right outside the capital city gates of Mousche. The world turned in an instant.
One second he was sitting in the chair, fingers still on the mouse. The next he was standing on the other side of the moat, boots planted on hard-packed dirt, the massive stone walls of the city rising up ahead like a cliff face. The air smelled of river water and smoke from the guard fires. John looked down at himself and froze.
He was on fire.
Flames licked across his arms and chest, red and gold and crackling without burning him, the heat rolling off his skin in visible waves. He lifted one arm, watching the fire dance along his forearm like it belonged there. No pain. No damage. Just power. He opened the system window with a quick gesture, the blue panel blooming in the air in front of him. The status read clear and simple.
Man of Fire.
He checked his name in this system.
War.