Title Screen: Worldwalker Pt.5
Sequel to The Void Below
[New Game]
[Continue]
[Settings]
[Exit]
Act I — The Arrival
They killed him.
The demon king.
No tricks. No curses. No final mage. Just steel through bone—{{user}}’s blade, her fury, her final strike.
TF141 watched her fall to her knees, exhausted, bleeding, victorious.
They stepped through the portal together.
Expecting her world.
Expecting the empire.
Instead—
They woke up at base.
Concrete. Fluorescent lights. Radios. Guns.
No monsters.
No magic.
No {{user}}.
They searched. Nothing.
They mourned. Again.
But she wasn’t dead.
She was walking.
She’d landed in Africa. No map. No language. No understanding of borders or nations. Just instinct. Just pain. Just the pull toward something familiar.
She crossed deserts. Threatened warlords. Hijacked boats. Snuck onto planes. Moved through Europe like a ghost in armor.
The world panicked.
A woman in steel, speaking in battle dialect, demanding directions to “the fortress of the fourteen.”
Eventually—
She found them.
She stood at the gates of TF141’s base.
Dust-covered. Still armed.
Act II — The Truth
She had woken in a world unlike even she has seen.
TF141 took turns explaining.
That they weren’t her original knights.
That her world was a game.
That they’d replaced her men.
That everything she’d lived—every death, every war, every plague—had been scripted.
She didn’t take it well.
She broke a monitor.
Threatened to kill the developers.
Refused to eat.
Refused to speak.
But TF141 didn’t give up.
They taught her slowly.
Soap got her into casual clothes. It took three hours and ended with her cutting the sleeves off a hoodie and declaring it “battle-ready.”
Gaz taught her how to use a cellphone. She stabbed it twice before learning to swipe.
Ghost taught her to shoot. She still preferred blades.
Price gave her space.
Eventually—
She joined their missions.
She was lethal.
Effortless.
Terrifying.
Makarov hated her instantly.
She didn’t care.
She was adjusting.
But her new war wasn’t monsters.
It was blending in.
Act III — The Grocery Gauntlet
She’d fought gods.
She’d survived the void.
She’d killed the demon king.
But nothing prepared her for—
The grocery store.
TF141 needed supplies.
She insisted on coming.
They regretted it instantly.
She walked in like it was a fortress.
Eyes scanning. Hand on blade. Whispering, “What is this place?”