“This game is rigged!”

The student flipped his keyboard in frustration, his whole head having turned a concerning shade of red.

“No need for table turning, Jin,” His ever-faithful roommate said without ever turning from his own laptop.

Jin swivelled round in his seat, taking a post-it-note-made paper aeroplane and launching it at the back of his best mate’s head. “Your apathy frustrates me.”

Finally getting a small taste of the attention he desired in the form of his roomie turning his head just enough to see the other in the corner of his eye, Jin smiled sweetly in a vain attempt to retain the attention. Roomie does not humour him and rolls his eyes, turning back to his essay.

Jin takes a deep breath and sighs away the defeat exacted by his virtual enemies. He was at a deeply testing part of the game in which a boss keeps nailing him on a certain corner, insta-deathing him every time and he just can’t seem to dodge it.

Suddenly, some cogs turn in his head and an idea springs forth from the woodworks. “Yoongi! I’m going to the library!”

“At this time of night? Stop packing, I say!” This time Jin had managed to sustain the fullness of his grumpycat of a roommate’s attention. Yoongi rose from his chair but only managed to half-elevate himself into a weird squat by the time Jin had actually scraped his whole setup into his laptop backpack.

“Pro packing, my man.” He grumbles, conceding his failure. He sits his back down and stares at his essay a bit harder, as if it would start writing itself if he squinted hard enough (the wish of all students).

The door slammed shut before the coldness of the night could seep in from the corridor.

-----

Jin had to admit, Yoongi had had a point. It was in’ cold out here. He had his puffy coat on and everything, but his teeth were chattering and he was puffing like a dragon into the frosty night.

He marched up to the library doors, briefly catching the time on the arch above – 1am. It was the beginning of exam season and the library was open 24/7, bestowed with industrial-strength wifi (why wouldn’t it, for so many students, Jin theorised) which was vastly free. Only the true nerds were still actually working at this hour and everyone else just put up with the dorm wifi. Of course, Jin only wanted the best for his gaming experience – it helped him release stress and he really wanted to win against this boss if it killed him.

It really was pitch black outside. When he entered through the door of the library to the partially lit interior, it felt like sports floodlights compared to his brisk journey across the tarmac road which connected campus buildings.

When his eyes adjusted and he felt comfortable looking around, he noticed he was actually the only one there. He silently celebrated to himself with a small fist-pump (this is still a library where silence is sacred, Jin thought).

He bee-lined through the bookshelves to the very back of the library – it was a little colder here, next to the windows, but it was where the comfy seats were for reading. Their student life was much enriched, Jin appreciated. Jin loved the library, not that he did much studying in it anyway.

Jin unpacked his gaming laptop with the same enthusiasm and swiftness as when he had slid it all in his bag. He was so ready to get set right in on some prime not-shared wifi. He silently cursed the fact he loved this game so much despite the creators doing that endlessly infuriating thing where you need internet access to play despite the fact you had to do some downloading. Was it to laugh and mock Jin’s terrible attempts at getting past the first level? Perhaps, Jin hypothesises.

He neatly sets the laptop as close to his face as he possibly could without having to dislodge himself from the incredibly comfortable position he was in on the beany-bag he had lodged against a sofa for a bit of back and neck support. It may not look comfortable at all from the outside, but Jin is already half way to bliss. All he needed now was to put on his noise-cancelling headphones and he would have full immersion in the moonlit corner of the deserted library.

He plugs in his controller to try a different approach to the key-and-mouse, with which he had rendered little success. It also let him stay in the leaned-back, awful looking way he’d set himself up with the screen mere inches from his face. “Excellent,” He quietly mimics Mr Burns.

The game whirrs to life before him and his eyes sparkle with its reflection. Pure joy filled his expression, softening the features of his face. The world of this medieval fantasy was so ethereal; every time he opened the game, he felt as if he were plunging into the virtual world, where he wore a hunter’s leathers and carried his trusty sword, a world where he was an adventurer and hero, a fighter, a diplomat, a man of his own castle.

He felt that twinge in his heart at the thought. He trudged through the pine forest, a moodiness settling over him as the light of the setting sun poured through the branches and shined upon the falling dew. His castle was not quite his own at the moment.

At fate would have it, his castle was under threat of a neighbouring power. While he had chosen the sword as his preferred weapon, his enemies were skilled with the bow, and they always seemed to make a pin-cushion of him before he and his loyal men could ward them off.

He was in completely the wrong part of the map at the moment, but he was one of these players who didn’t like to use fast travel. He enjoyed being in the pine forest here. It filled his senses with the smell of pine cones and a small walk around as the afternoon drew to evening always calmed him. He looked to his feet and concentrated on crunching the pines and old bark below. When immersed like this he could imagine it all happening, filled with memories and feelings so powerful it was as if it were all real around him.

He hears the cry of an animal not so far in the distance, further into the forest. He was standing on the outskirts by now, watching as the mist rolled over the shadowed side of the hill over which the sun was setting. From here he could see the settlement which climbed the hill just beyond, the slanted light bathing it in gold and long shadows; Jin was stood in a valley where the pine forest began and the land levelled. His castle was at the top, an imposing figure over the rest of the houses.

He knew the cutscene well which triggered as he reached the main dirt road approaching the hill upon which he lived. And yet he still watched with bated breath as his character gained some height on the journey home, from where he slowly began to realise a force in the distance… a horde of enemies from the neighbouring kingdom were coming at a terrible pace, mounted on foreign horses and leaving the smaller of settlements they passed pillaged and in blazes. They had finally come for Jin and his peoples.

He had seen others under their kingdom suffer invasion from these plate-armoured fiends. Their imperialism was seeing ruin and destruction befall his fellow citizens, and he was dead set against any negotiating – it was fight and die free rather than settle and live in subjugation. At least, that’s how Jin had managed to end up locking horns with such an awful boss so early on in the game… He had not played the diplomat, to say the least.

“They have come for me.” The deep, rich voice of the protagonist was fraught with a breathless worry, but by the stoic look in his eyes one knew it was not for himself, but for the villagers endangered by their reckless rampaging. “They have come for my people.”

He casts his gaze over the ant-like figures as the vibrations of hundreds of horse hooves hammering across the land like a war drum thrums through his body. As he glances behind him, he sees the people emerging from their houses, some frightened, some armed. They were ready. They were all ready.

Jin reaches for his cured leather helmet and fastens it on under his chin. He ignores how what he’s touching feels like his headphones and he’s just knotted the wires by his Adams apple. Hand lingering tenderly over the hilt of his sword, he briefly wonders if he has time to sharpen it before rounding up his loyal band for battle to defend his home. But alas, he knows his time has come all too soon when one of his faithful warriors runs to him for guidance.

“My Lord! The militia are upon us! What are we to do?”

“Follow me, Namjoon – we must drive them to the city wall and slaughter them with their backs to it,” Jin bellows so all those behind could hear, as more and more began to gather. They rallied round with a cry of agreement, excitement suddenly washing over them as they saw and heard their force in numbers.

Adrenaline washed over Jin as all those who possessed horses cantered out to the front line, the greatest horsemen he knew all thundering to the protection of their livelihoods.

“My brave cavalry! You must be the first noble men to meet them. Dismount the enemy! Drive them back, have their steeds tremble at the greatness of your own!”

He hears the lot of them scream charge, and he stood tall and proud as they streamed around him as if he were a rock in a raging river. The power of their hooves made his legs numb with vibration. He felt so alive.

Namjoon had long taken their amassing numbers up towards the keep, ready to defend should Jin and his own group be overwhelmed. He was faced with the task of driving any surviving aggressors to the south city wall, where they would push and push until they had nowhere to go. He never planned on them getting even near the insular keep, which had its own boundary moat and walls.

One of his bravest warriors (whom he’d made to look like his crush from his media history class) Hoseok rode to him on a shimmering black horse, its nostrils flaring and the whites of its eyes flashing in its excitement. “Quick, jump!” Hoseok held out his hand, horse stamping impatiently, unable to stop its fantastic momentum. Jin took the coarse hand and leapt, landing just behind the archer to whom he clung for dear life as the powerful animal sprang into an incredible pace. They were up the hill in what felt like moments and dodging through the streets, lining up ready for the inevitable battle in the very streets he’d roamed since a wee lad.

Jin tightened his arms around the flexing waist of the handsome warrior, relishing in one of his only chances to be so close. The other was warm and lean in muscle, exuding resolve and beady eyes calculating. They rode as one with each other and their faithful steed.

They finally came clattering to a halt in the town square. They knew this was going to be the toughest place to keep control over the situation – if any made it here, he knew they were in big trouble. They both shared a look before dismounting, securing the reigns of the beast to the saddle so that it could freely run back to its station, ready and waiting for its master to return.

Hoseok turns to Jin, gripping his shoulders and levelling his gaze with such a serious look, Jin instantly became uneasy. “You know that I would die for you, die a free man rather than live under their rule. I trust you to defeat them, no matter what happens.”

Jin’s mouth suddenly dries, and he nods solemnly. Hoseok takes his shortbow from his back and nocks his first arrow, stalking to his position behind the last house before open space. Jin wonders what kind of people are going to arrive.

He suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of dread as he gains full control of his character, the interactive cutscene well and truly over. This is where it really begins.

The first wave of enemies appear at the end of the road. It’s a slow trickle; he knows the cavalry he sent did well. The sting of knowing he may not see those men again crawled up his spine like nettles on a vine.

He uses his knowledge of the territory to his full advantage, stalking towards the footsoldiers who had no choice but to be exposed in the main street. Jin steals himself for the first kill – leaping out, he circles his elbow over the head of the man not facing his way and slices his neck. Chaos ensues.

It was an absolute bloodbath from start to finish. He had many tight scrapes – he could hear the whistling of arrows around him as Hoseok picked off those he couldn’t focus on from afar – but then he began to hear much closer whistles and his heart nearly feel through his stomach. The archers had arrived.

They needed to push them back. Once archers got to open ground, his own warriors who had seen the wave start would be easy pickings as they came down from the fort as support.

A wave of his own warriors behind him, with cries of rage and incensed with white-hot adrenaline, was just what he needed. The enemy fell to their right, seeking refuge in the smaller streets scattered between buildings, slowly being pushed toward the south wall just as Jin planned. Hoseok brought up the rear and picked off outliers before they could strike.

The stealth of these soldiers was shocking and incredible. Jin found himself losing their trail around every corner. He took shortcut after shortcut and barely kept them in sight, they who slunk from shadow to shadow as if phantoms in the night. The sun had disappeared behind the neighbouring hills, leaving a darkening blue sky as the last lights of day faded away. Jin was starting to worry that he hadn’t succeeded in picking enough of these pests off – it would only be when they all re-group at the wall that Jin would know the exact number who had managed to breach their defences. He didn’t know for how long he would be able to keep the upper hand.

Jin began to feel that sense of dread intensify. They were coming to the wall. He knew this was where he’d met his grave so many times before, to the fading screams of his name as Hoseok gathers his lifeless body in his arms.

He so desperately wanted this time to be different.

Heart beating to its limit, the sheer sound of it thronging in his ears, they skid into the street which faces the towering south wall, a black silhouette in the darkening sky. Jin is momentarily overtaken with the sight of soldiers running like a herd of buffalo, some streamed next to the wall on horses, the rest making their best effort to reach the keep and only the keep. That moment taking in the scene was all it took for Jin to catch sight of his greatest enemy – the head of the charge, the leader who had made it to the top of Jin’s precious wall along with a few of his henchmen.

This street! This fateful street. Jin wasted not a second longer to charge, leading his faithful to pin the enemy just as he planned. He was out in the open – he needed to be, if they were to be fast enough to plug the stream before the body of them made it beyond their grasp. But it was the open. And just as they were coming down upon the enemy, Jin snatches a glance at their pony-tailed leader; as if in slow motion, Jin realises his mistake. The warrior raises their longbow and Jin sees it glimmer in what remained of the light in the air, a white feathered arrow aimed directly towards him. He plunges for the ground, but alas, he never even made it to his knees; the arrow careened towards him and split his skull right between the eyes. The momentum sent him flying backwards, an instant lights-out as he fell in a crumpled heap, caught dead in Hoseok’s grieving arms.

Any noise blurred and died around him as everything went black.

-----

Cold. He was so terribly cold. His flesh was as stone, his mouth as ice. The slow din of sound trying to reach his returning consciousness sent his head pounding. The world swam around him, his body heavy as lead, eyelids dumb and reluctant to open. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, so cold they were refusing to return. He felt the upper half of his body return to some semblance of sense as someone dead-lifted him up off the concrete surface he was lying on. Slowly the noise was comprehendible, and actually, rather loud.

“Oh thank God, he’s coming round… Jin? Jin? Can you hear me? Oh God, oh God…” The warm embrace talking to him was Yoongi.

He felt someone else propping up his knees, a sudden pressure on his tailbone as it was the last thing connecting him to the ground. A heave and a ho, and Jin felt his stiff body being hauled into the air. He blinked, his eyes dry and painful, vision swimming. He thinks he recognises the blur holding his knees as Jimin from Yoongi’s study group. What’s he doing at the library? Why is it so cold? And what happened to his beanbag?

As Jin slowly came back around, despite his daze he was fully cognisant that it took far too short a time to make it back to their dorm. It was a messy entrance as neither of his saviours had free hands to open doors.

They rest him in the warm dorm room and he instantly starts shaking. It seems someone had been posted here waiting for them with a million hot water bottles, as he was suddenly draped in what felt to him like walls of burning fire. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be warmed up this quickly but he soon clung to the white burn as if he were clinging to life itself.

“Jungkook is getting the campus nurse for you now, Jin. Do you remember what happened? Where you are? Where you were?”

“Too many questions,” Jin slurred. He sounded as if he’d been drinking by his lack of motor control. He was still shivering.

Yoongi decided to take a different approach. “We found you lying on the road presumably on the way back from the library, maybe half way to the dorms. You worried me sick Jin, you didn’t come home and you didn’t come when you always do – I have no idea how long you were lying there for with no jacket, no nothing…” Yoongi seemed to run out of breath, worry stealing it from him. Jimin Yoongi’s back silently, concern etched into his features.

Jin closed his eyes again. Being awake was a struggle. Now that he had thawed out a bit, he had the most incredible headache. Last night… His last memories were of being shot in the head, the all-encompassing sensation of falling, then his world went black. It all felt so real. Beyond his wildest dreams. Uneasiness lit up in his confused mind.