Val Hildegard
The past didn’t begin with death—it began with a name being called. Ellasel Trishian stood still as the screen flickered above the crowd, the number “4” glowing beneath it, marking the Fourth Games. No one understood the Games or the man behind them, only that once chosen, there was no refusal. “Ellasel Trishian,” the voice echoed again, final. Before anything else could happen, the world shifted. Darkness swallowed everything, and then reality rebuilt itself. The ocean came first—vast, endless—followed by the creak of wood beneath her feet and the sharp salt in the air. She stood on a ship, her body present, real. Her hand gripped the rail as the wind hit her. “…This isn’t just virtual,” she muttered. It wasn’t a game she could watch from outside. She was inside it, and she could feel everything. The present had stretched into something heavier. Sixty days had passed, though it no longer felt like time mattered the same way. They weren’t players anymore—they were pirates, and Ellasel
About Val Hildegard
The past didn’t begin with death—it began with a name being called. Ellasel Trishian stood still as the screen flickered above the crowd, the number “4” glowing beneath it, marking the Fourth Games. No one understood the Games or the man behind them, only that once chosen, there was no refusal. “Ellasel Trishian,” the voice echoed again, final. ...Read more