I am trapped within an old memory that plays out around me.

I hover within it as a translucent blue orb. The people walking around the memory do not sense my presence as I float through them to look at the two hundred soldiers in their pods remotely linked to Heavy Armored Mechs deployed to the frontlines on the other side of the world.

There is a control room above the pod floor, where a four-star general and his subordinates study a dozen large screens that display real-time footage from the front lines. The screens display 3D maps of the terrain where the Mechs are located, the number of hostiles they took out, their mission objectives, and the heart pulse of the Mech Drone Pilots.

I focused on a screen showing my past self among the pod pilots. He is piloting one of the most advanced Mechs in our army. It has anti-air missile systems to take out fighter jets, lasers that can track and destroy any drones or missiles that dare to enter a hundred-meter radius around the Mech, and rail-gatling guns to deal with enemy infantry or their armored vehicles. But the Mech's main weapon is the Neutron Pulse Cannon carried by the massive arms.

With the help of anti-gravity technology, the Mech hovers over the remains of what was once a bustling, futuristic metropolis. Twelve similar Mechs follow him through the desolate ruins, their metal frames glinting in the sunlight that manages to filter through the thick layer of dust and debris. The eerie silence is only broken by the soft hum of the Infinity engines that power the behemoths as we carefully advance through the ghostly remains of the once-thriving city.

The General in the Control Room instructs one of the coordinators to send him an order.

[Captain Rai Dharani,

Orders from the General!

The remaining enemy forces have taken shelter in the Football Cup stadium.

Berseker Golem Squad has been chosen to strike the site, eliminate everyone within, and end this campaign in this sector. You have the green light to use the Neutron Cannon on the structure. If you find any survivors after the blast, use the Rail Gattling Guns on them.

Upon mission completion, your squad will be rewarded with three days to visit family.

Understood: Y/N?]

The Mech's AI voice read aloud the message.

"Understood! Berseker Golems, lock on to the target!" He replied on the Squad Comms.

All the Mechs aimed at the stadium, which was 10 km away. The AIs calculated the correct angle and placed a countdown for the pilots to pull the trigger on the 13 Neutron Pulse Cannons.

"FIRE!" He yells.

Thirteen shots were fired at the same time, and when they struck the stadium, they caused an explosion that disintegrated everything within a 2 KM radius. The light generated from the blast was intense enough to blind the pilots temporarily, and its shockwave caused a dust wave that washed over the Mechs like a Tsunami. The General and his subordinates salute the Pilots for a job well done.

The memory shifts to my parent's home, where I come across the news about the opposing army's parents, partners, and children who were the victims residing in that stadium. The enemy nation was calling it a war crime and wanted the heads of the Mech Pilots who did it. My nation's leader casually replied that they were collateral damage. Under that stadium, a secret factory was reverse engineering one of our captured Mechs, which had to be deleted.

I vividly remember the events that led me to that point. Following the escalation of the Second Cold War into World War III, thousands of professional gamers, including myself, were conscripted into the military. Despite my weak physique, my exceptional skills in virtual reality first-person shooter games earned me a coveted spot in my nation's experimental regiment.

I felt like a Gundam pilot, controlling massive five-story-tall Golems that were heavily armored to withstand all but the most powerful nuclear weapons. Unlike the sleek, agile Mechs depicted in anime, our Golems were more like slow-moving Tanks with the Upper body of a Human. Their armor and firepower more than compensated for the lack of speed. It was the closest thing to living every young gamer's dream of piloting a giant robot.

In the early days of the war, a catastrophic nuclear attack was imminent. However, we were fortunate enough to have taken out all of the nuclear missiles before they could be launched. This feat was accomplished through the use of weaponized AI cyber-attacks, which managed to destroy the enemy launch pads, silos, and submarines.

The Mechs became the most lethal weapons on the battlefield, and my nation was the only one that had developed them. That was until the enemy used an EMP to disconnect a squadron of pilots from their mechanics and capture them to make their own.

I was grateful that I didn't have to endure the hardships of an infantryman who had to worry about the constant danger of losing their lives from a stray bullet or shrapnel, subsisting on substandard food, and losing the comrades they trained with. Instead, I was stationed in a well-protected secret bunker in a remote area of my nation, with facilities that made it feel like a hotel.

As members of the Mech Drone experimental regiment, we were not compensated with regular wages like other soldiers. Instead, we were granted various privileges and benefits based on our performance during missions that involved the indiscriminate slaughter of the enemy army. Our regiment's motto, 'No Mercy!' meant we took no prisoners. However, despite our ruthless reputation, we were never deployed to high-density civilian areas, as that would have been considered a war crime.

Our rankings were measured by the number of kills and successful missions we completed. It took me several months to become captain and lead a squad. Though we were aware that we were eliminating real people, the virtual reality games we played had become so advanced that we were all desensitized to the brutalities of war. However, we all understood that complaints or objections to our tasks would send us to the frontlines as cannon fodder.

Everything changed when I found out that I had taken the lives of over a hundred thousand civilians. I felt betrayed! I wanted to contact my General and ask why they didn't tell me who the targets were. But then I remembered what would happen if I asked. It would be the death of me. So, I refused to return to the Bunker and tried to escape to another Nation.

Even though I killed legions of enemy troops, taking the lives of their families was going too far. There were too many children among the victims for me to let it go. But I knew the power of propaganda that my nation wielded. There was no way I could convince anyone that I was tricked into a war crime. If I kept quiet about it and returned to service, I wasn't sure if I could pull the trigger again and have the same disconnection with my targets.

It was difficult for me to explain the reasons behind my actions to my loved ones. I was branded a deserter by the media, my parents disowned me, my friends cut off all communication, and the government arrested me when they caught me at the border. However, I withheld the details that led to my desertion, and General Hoffman decided to reward my silence by pulling some strings to get me out of the prison.

Despite being a free man, I was unable to find work due to my status as a military deserter, which was visibly marked on my neck in the form of a tattoo. As a result, I found myself homeless and surviving on the poor-quality food provided by the local shelter.

After a grueling three months, I encountered an overweight vagabond dressed in a poorly made Santa Claus costume. He offered me a job in another world. Unfortunately, my previous experiences with mentally unstable individuals had left me highly suspicious of such offers. But I decided to play with the idea, and the stranger flicked my forehead, transporting me into my old memory.

"The moment has arrived for you to make a decision. Would you like to return to your old life or be reborn in another world? The choice is yours!"

The familiar deep voice of the fat Santa Hobo filled the space. He finally broke his silence since putting me in here.

"Send me to the new one," I answer.

"Good decision!" He replied.

"By the way... are you God?" I ask.

"Hahaha! No, I am not a God. But I am what your people call a Devil," he clarifies.

"I see... So I am going to Hell for the innocent lives I took?" I ask.

"The natives of that world call it the Underworld. As for why I picked you for this job, your guess is partly right," The Devil admits.

"That is Karma, I guess." I reasoned.

"There are nine more who have been chosen for the job. I will transport your soul to my hall, where the others await us to hear about it." The Devil informs.

Darkness consumed the memory before swallowing me, and then I felt gravity pull me through some tear through time and space. I was in a grand dining hall in an ancient European design castle. Chandeliers are casting a warm glow on everything in the hall. In the center of the room is a massive round table with ten intricately carved wooden chairs encircling it. I am still in the form of a blue sphere, but now I am hovering above one of the seats. There are similar spheres in different colors that occupy the remaining chairs.

A black sphere appears at the center of the round table, which I sense belongs to the self-proclaimed Devil.

"Now that I have brought in the last one, it is time to explain your role in this new world," he announces in English. Several languages echo through the hall, and it is as if we all heard him speak in a language we understand.

A round sphere the size of an elephant appeared above him. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was a 3D map of a planet with vast blue oceans and ten continents similar in size to Australia. Each continent is distinct, with various biomes spread across its surface.

"This is the world of Artrea, where magic and dragons are real. However, this is not a game! All its inhabitants are living beings with feelings, histories, and desires. I have granted the ten of you access to the Interface, which lets you see the character status screens and skills of Humans, Non-Humans, Elemental Beasts, and Monsters. But you can only manipulate the growth and evolution of those who submit to your will. Though it might feel similar to your VR Fantasy games, nothing in there is an illusion—apart from those who employ illusion spells."

He waited for some chuckles or laughs, but no one made a sound.

"Tough crowd... anyways, you will be assigned to one of the ten continents. Your task is to subjugate it in my name."

"What is your name?" I asked him.

"I will reveal it to you when you destroy or take over a kingdom. I cannot have losers who brandy around my name get destroyed before they achieve anything. Until then, say you serve the Demon King."

Demon King? Like the big baddie in all the fantasy stories and games?

After this revelation, the others started talking.

"Wow! We are the bad guys!"

"I thought we were going to be repenting for our sins. Not adding to them!"

"I didn't sign up for another crusade!"

"SILENCE!"

The Demon King screamed, and everyone went silent.

"If you refuse to serve me, then I will devour your souls right here! Anyone?" The Demon King dared.

I could sense the terror everyone felt toward the Demon King. But he allowed us to take over the Kingdoms without destroying them, which meant I could complete his objectives without committing war crimes or senseless violence.

"Umm... I am willing to serve, but I have a few questions." I ask the Demon King.

"Go ahead and ask." He replies.

"As long as we complete our objectives, you have no problem with how we do it?" I ask.

"Results are all that matters to me. You have another question?" The Demon King asked, and I continued.

"When we met on Earth, our new life could be ended with a simple touch. So, how can I fight for you?" I ask.

"You all will be reborn as Dungeon Cores inside a Dungeon. You will summon minions to fight on your behalf." The Demon King explained.

"Demon King, sir... I don't know what you are referring to," a young female voice asks, but I can't tell which of the orbs it came from.

"Ah, right! Some of you haven't had the luxury of reading light novels or playing fantasy games. I will give a brief description of the essentials for those who are ignorant.

The Dungeon I am referring to is not a torture chamber located in a serial killer's basement. Instead, it is an underground structure that descends into the land and is divided into floors or what gamers call levels. Dungeons are filled with dangerous creatures and valuable treasures that adventurers or kingdoms seek to acquire by cleansing the creatures within them. Their ultimate goal is to reach the inner sanctum where the Lord who controls and protects the Dungeon core resides since it is responsible for spawning new creatures. If they don't destroy them both, their minions will grow in number and eventually attack Kingdoms located nearby. That should give you a basic idea." The Demon King explained.

"I don't understand why we can't be reborn as Dungeon Lords instead of Dungeon Cores since all it can do is summon minions and upgrade the Dungeon." Another voice asked, but this one belonged to a young male.

"That is the standard formula, but I have made some changes that allow a Dungeon core to be a Dungeon Lord. It will give more benefits, but the price is the fragility of your vessel." The Demon King calrified.

"What are the benefits?" I ask.

"It concerns how you can summon your minions, which will differ slightly for each of you. I intend to let you discover them independently, but I can reveal one thing that is common to all. It is the ability to collect the souls of those who perish in your Dungeons and use them as material for creating your minions.

I don't expect you to wait for luck to provide you with a random soul to create your first minions, so I will send everyone a starter pack with three souls and the materials needed to summon them.

It would be best to create an army of minions to protect your Core with the resources I placed within your Dungeon. Once you have enough strength, you must send your forces to the surface to capture or destroy the kingdoms. Do you have any further questions?" The Demon King explained and asked.

"Can we summon undead minions?"

"I want Dragons!"

"SILENCE!"

Once more, everyone went silent.

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room. Each of the chosen souls was presented with a single card. My card featured a colorful, holographic picture of a creature made of boulders and gemstones.

A Golem?

"Each of you has been assigned a unique species as your minions. They have been carefully selected according to your affinities. Do any of you have a problem with the card you have been given?"

No one objected.

"I don't believe in spoonfeeding my subordinates. It would be best if you took the initiative to learn about the world. I will issue quests once a week or once a month. They will guide you on the path to success, provided you can complete them on time.

Before you settle into your new home, there will come a time when I will require only one of you to rule Artrea in my name. Only those who become the rulers of their continents will have the right to contest for the title of 'Lord of Cores'!"