Awakened in Magma
I came to my senses and found myself submerged in magma.
What kind of start location is this?
No prisoner transport wagon, no authoritative professor with a beard droning on about the world setting. If I had to nitpick, the game actually kicked off at an airport, with the protagonist flying back to Korea from America. But no matter where I looked, everything was red. Red, red, and more red. I stood smack in the middle of a world painted entirely in crimson.
What the hell kind of game start is this?
I raised my hand to open the status window and get a read on the situation first.
Status window... huh?
The hand I'd meant to use to pause the game mid-air froze. Fingers as white as jade—flawless, like fresh snow—without a single blemish. They sure as hell didn't match my game avatar or my rough, real-world hands.
Is this even my hand?
I flexed each finger one by one on command, balled it into a fist, even flipped the bird with just the middle one while keeping the others folded. Aside from the appearance, this was definitely my hand.
DLC exclusive avatar or something?
It was small and dainty, almost like a little girl's, which felt a bit off-putting, but hey—this was a special expansion pack from the devs. Like an early adopter unboxing a shiny new gadget, I waited eagerly for the next event.
...
......
......It's late.
I'd waited at least ten minutes, minimum. No character creation interface, no helpful NPC, not even a prologue event. Nothing.
Do I have to find the helper NPC myself?
Maybe I needed to search this vast red sea for someone, or swim out to trigger the story. Or perhaps...
At least give me a direction marker, damn it.
I resolved to log out and leave a review demanding quest markers for basic guidance, then started moving slowly.
Something's off.
For swimming through what felt like an ocean, the speed was unnaturally fast. But the creepiest part? The sensations were so real it was horrifying. No way this was a VR rig.
Almost there.
Minutes of swimming upward. Unlike the pure red below, a darker patch loomed ahead—instinct told me it was the surface.
"Pah!"
I broke through, gasping huge lungfuls of air. Muggy, but breathable—no issues the—
......
Bubble, bubble.
Bubbles? No. Hot bursts of flame roiling up. I'd seen this somewhere before. Like a disaster flick with a volcano eruption.
"Gahhh!"
I flailed wildly, swimming for land. Wasn't being in lava basically game over? Why was my body fine? No time for calm thoughts. Luckily, solid ground appeared soon—a craggy rock island welcoming me.
"Hah... hah..."
Out of breath. Tension easing from my veins. Then, suddenly, I felt like an idiot.
Of course. I was just swimming in that stuff—no way I'd die.
From visuals to the tactile feedback, they'd nailed the magma texture. VR this immersive could give old folks a heart attack if they weren't caref—
"Is this really a game...?"
I prodded what felt like vocal cords, testing my voice.
"Huh? Huhh?"
Only now, post-magma, did I hear it: a young girl's voice, nothing like mine. Eerily like the game character's I'd heard a thousand times clearing the game.
"Ah—aaah—iced Americano—"
It came out on command, but it wasn't my voice.
...!!
No way. Couldn't be. The protagonist was fixed, right?
Face.
Fingers clawing, probing my face every which way. No dry, neglected skin—just baby-smooth, like a newborn's. Not a featureless mannequin, but a distinct someone's face.
No freaking way.
Glancing down, my eyes locked instinctively on two massive mounds asserting their presence.
!!
This my avatar? No shot.
...Mm.
Unavoidable verification. Purely procedural—no pervy intent.
Squish.
Even eyes closed, the soft sensation made my face burn. But undeniable: this avatar was unmistakably female.
Has to be an avatar. Yeah. Avatar. No way it's the real deal, right?
Cracking an eye, shaking my head—something blue flickered in view. Trembling hand snatched it up.
"Hair, huh."
Blue like it cradled azure flames. Definitely not black. Staring blankly, blue flames bloomed before me.
"Eek?!"
I yelped, toppling ass-first. But I realized: I made that flame.
Pfft, no way.
Mana draining from my body—the familiar sensation from playing protagonist countless times, now real, birthing pure blue flames before me.
Azure Flame. The purifying blaze that incinerates tainted mana. And only one being wielded it in this world.
"Me?"
Phoenix of the Azure Flame.
Deathdinus of the Blue Sky. Built on clichéd mana, monsters, and ability users, this game told of a protagonist thwarting the Dark Legion's world conquest ambitions.
Dark Legion. The name alone screamed edgy vibes. An evil org manipulating monsters and kaijin to conquer Earth. Phoenix of the Azure Flame was one of their seven cadres—and the strongest among them.
Officially ranked #4 in combat power. #1 was the awakened protagonist, #2 the true final boss, #3 the fake one. Effectively, Phoenix was the story's strongest.
Problem is, I'm a final boss minion.
Doomed to have my brain pickled by the final boss post-conquest. Ever heard of "kill the dog after the hunt"? That was the fate of Phoenix and the seven cadres.
Can I take 'em solo?
Impossible. Phoenix outclassed them in raw power, but the fake final boss—Dark Legion leader, #3 lackey—brainwashed the cadres.
Not even proper evil org goons.
Spirits. The fake boss, Star Lord, invaded and conquered another world "Terra," brainwashing its spirits to form the Dark Legion.
So I'm brainwashed from the start.
Ignorant of my homeworld's destruction by Star Lord, serving as vanguard destroying others. Doomed to boil in the pot after Earth falls.
They called it reincarnation possession novel...
This was too much. Grateful for the strongest body, but villain side? Overkill malice.
Luckily, Star Lord's inactive now.
Had he been on Earth, I might've hidden and aided destruction. But nah—he solo'd here, got wrecked by Earthlings, and bailed.
Thanks, Earthlings! As a former one—now isekai'd—I felt infinite gratitude.
To survive without groveling to Star Lord or fading into protagonist power...
Find him. The protagonist.
But Phoenix gets killed by him.
"Gahhh!"
I screamed. The magma in the cave rippled gently. No harm to Phoenix's body.
"What do I do?!"
Phoenix stayed unconquerable heroine for a simple reason.
Phoenix dies, passing power to protagonist, ending the tale.
Six cadres fall sequentially. Last stands Phoenix, dropping protagonist's allies one by one. Final 1v1, victory inches away—but battle aftershocks break the brainwashing.
Rampages, self-loaths, passes power and vanishes.
A character who must die. Unconquerable tragedy, blocking story progress.
That's me now.
"Hoo."
A sigh escaped.
But there's a path.
Not begging Star Lord, not fading as power—not even that. Live fully as Phoenix of the Azure Flame.
I cleared it.
Phoenix route. Only way to survive.
I won't die like Phoenix. Can't let Phoenix die.
I'd accepted this wasn't hyper-real VR. Worst case: brain-locked in some pod, or classic isekai possession.
"Hoo."
This world was real. I was Phoenix of the Azure Flame.
Conclusion after sleepless analysis, full brainpower. Undeniable.
"They said the game was made grinding aliens... turns out the GMs are alien bastards for real..."
Suspects? Only them. Post-clear message luring with expansion pack—install, boom, Phoenix.
Maybe Truman Show: cleared character trapped, streamed to global gamers as prank cam.
"Haha, ha."
Dry laugh. I stood anyway.
Whatever—only one task.
Woo the protagonist, become ally. Never get conquered as heroine!
Heroine or not, simpering under a guy? Hard pass.
First, get out.
Awakened as Phoenix, power usage clicked intuitively.
Fwoosh.
Blue flame wings unfurled behind.
Like Icarus fleeing prison, soaring sea—gazing at the ceiling, I steeled myself.
"Ah. Icarus crashed into the sea and died, right."
...Embarrassing, but angel instead.
Not wrong. Jp communities joked "Phoenix-nyan Maybe Angel (PMT)."
Wonder if they'd say that knowing the truth.
I chuckled. Now I was Phoenix—original gone forever.
"Hooah."
Deep breath. Toward the center where magma cascaded like a waterfall—the sole downward flow in this underground river. The only path to surface.
......
Hesitating to dive back in. Simulated endlessly, but depth unknown.
"...It'll work out."
Not Everest-level, hopefully. Slapped cheeks, thrust hand into flames.
Warm like a hot spring—but no lingering.
"Let's go."
Muttering resolve, I—Phoenix of the Azure Flame—beat wings upward fiercely.
April 1, 2020, 4:00 AM — Hawaii Volcano Observatory
The researcher in the white coat dozed in his chair, arms crossed. Unshaven days blended into a scruffy, exhausted look.
......Snore.
Dark circles screamed his grueling shifts.
...Gasp. Dozed off.
Third straight all-nighter, now on duty. Head researcher Maxwell blinked awake, stretching.
"Yawwwn."
4 AM already. Coffee thirty minutes ago, yet asleep. Laughable, but unavoidable—dormant volcano showing activity signs.
"Won't erupt anyway, why keep checking..."
Maxwell reached for remaining coffee.
Rumble rumble rumble.
"Hm?"
Phone on vibrate? Stronger than expected—he flinched, nearly dropping the cup.
"What the—!"
Seismographs jittered wildly. Massive quakes from deep below. Weak at first, intensifying.
Crash!
A secured glass vial shattered on the floor.
"Holy."
Maxwell paled, checking temp monitors.
"Erupting?!"
Underground temps soaring—especially the peak's core.
BOOM!
Deafening roar, red glow outside. Maxwell hit emergency alarms, staring slack-jawed at the peak.
...Holy.
Massive eruption, magma spewing through rock. Amid the spray—a tiny human figure flapping blue wings.
"A person?"
Distant naked-eye view, blurry—but humanoid. Wings aside, like his fave hero "Thunder God."
"Damn! Not now!"
Maxwell scrambled gear. Dormant volcano blowing—others might chain, ash hitting the "safe" observatory.
"Helicopter...!"
Too late for emergency chopper request. Outside choked with ash, visibility ze—
...Huh?
Clear skies. Starry even—unthinkable post-eruption.
"What the—"
Twenty years researching, first freak nature event. Snapping to, eyes back to peak.
"Gone?"
Blue-winged human vanished. Maxwell slumped, ghosted.
"Ha, ha."
Eruption output tapered oddly—quakes fading, flow slowing. Activity ceased.
Relief washed over Maxwell as heli approached the pad—he blacked out.