Ethan felt the world spinning around him. Just moments ago, he was in his cramped apartment, playing an old, forgotten game called Overlord on his beat-up laptop. He remembered controlling his dark lord, laughing at the goofy Minions as they pillaged villages. And then... what? A crash, a scream, the screech of tires. Darkness.
Now he lay on cold, damp grass. The air smelled of earth and pine, and in the distance, he heard the rustle of wind and the faint roar of some creature. He opened his eyes. Above him stretched a gray, cloudy sky, streaked with wisps of mist. Far off, jagged, rocky mountains rose, their peaks lost in the clouds. Ethan blinked, trying to make sense of where he was. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't even his city.
"What the hell happened?" he muttered, pushing himself up on his elbows. He felt a weight on his body, like something was pressing him down. He looked down and froze. His hands, which just last night were the ordinary, slightly scrawny hands of a gamer, were... different. They were clad in black, ornate armor, heavy but perfectly fitted. Metallic gauntlets gleamed in the dim light, and his wrists bore carved symbols that looked like something out of dark fantasy. Ethan raised his hands closer to his face, turning them in disbelief. These weren't his hands. They were too large, too powerful.
"What the...?" he whispered, his voice deeper, more resonant than he remembered. He looked around. He was lying in the middle of a wide glade, surrounded by tall grasses and patches of wildflowers. In the distance, between the trees, he caught a glint of water. A small pond, calm, reflecting the gray sky. Beside him, on the ground, lay a one-handed axe—massive, its blade etched with runes. Next to it rested a helmet, dark, with narrow slits for eyes, like something straight out of a game.
Ethan stood, feeling his muscles tense under the armor. He was tall—taller than he'd ever been in his life. He felt strength coursing through his body, like every movement could crush stone. He walked to the pond, slowly, cautiously, as if afraid it would all vanish. He leaned over the water, and the surface reflected his face.
Short, black hair fell across his forehead. Golden eyes, burning like twin points of fire, stared back at him. His face was sharp, almost inhumanly handsome, but marked by a darkness, as if it belonged to someone who had seen too much. Ethan stepped back, his heart pounding faster.
"Bloody hell, I've been reborn as the Overlord from that 2007 game," he said aloud, his voice echoing across the glade. He stood there for a moment, in shock, trying to process it. None of this made sense. Just yesterday, he was an ordinary twenty-something, barely scraping by. And now? He looked like the main antagonist from a game he'd bought for pennies at a sale.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Inhale, exhale. He opened them again, but nothing had changed. The glade, the mountains, the armor—it was all real. Or at least as real as it could be in this... wherever he was. Middle-earth? It looked like it. The mountains reminded him of descriptions from Tolkien's books, which he'd read in high school. Gray, raw, menacing. But why here? And why as the Overlord?
"Alright, Ethan, get it together," he muttered to himself. "If this is a dream, it's a damn good one. If it's not... this could be interesting." He gave a small smile. He'd always dreamed of adventures, of being more than just a gamer who spent nights in front of a screen. Maybe this was his chance? Maybe this world, whatever it was, would give him a shot at something grand?
Suddenly, a glowing panel flickered before his eyes, like an interface from a game. Ethan blinked, thinking it was an illusion, but the text was clear, as if displayed on an invisible screen:
Class: Overlord
World: Middle-earth
Welcome to your new world, Lord. Your adventure begins now. Starting Gift: You may summon 15 Brown Fighters.
Objective: Conquer or destroy. The choice is yours.
Ethan rubbed his eyes, but the panel didn't vanish. A system. A bloody system, like in all those isekai novels he'd read on Webnovel. This was too weird, too... real. His heart beat faster, but this time not from shock, but from excitement. If this actually worked, he had more than just a new life. He had power.
"Summon," he said, not entirely sure what to expect. His voice sounded confident, as if the armor and new body had given him courage.
The air before him rippled. The ground trembled slightly, and from the grass emerged portals—small, swirling circles of dark energy. From each one stepped a creature—small, scrawny, with pointed ears and a wicked grin. Brown Minions. Fifteen of them, exactly like in Overlord. They stood before him, armed with makeshift clubs, knives, and bits of armor that looked like they'd been stolen from a junkyard. Their eyes gleamed with devotion, and one of them, slightly larger, with a bigger knife, gave a theatrical bow.
"Master!" it screeched, and the others echoed it with shrill voices. "We serve! We fight! We steal! We burn!"
Ethan looked at them, feeling the corners of his mouth curl into a smile. They were exactly as he remembered from the game—chaotic, loyal, and ready for anything. In that moment, something inside him clicked. The shock gave way to a strange confidence. Maybe it was the armor, maybe the golden eyes, or maybe the fact that he had an army of tiny, psychotic creatures at his command. He felt... powerful.
He picked up the helmet from the ground. It was heavy but fit his head perfectly. He put it on, feeling the metal encase his face, the eye slits glowing faintly red. He took the axe in hand, its weight feeling natural, like an extension of his arm. He turned to the Minions, who looked at him with fanatical adoration.
"Follow me," he said, and his voice, amplified by the helmet, sounded like a command from Sauron himself. The Minions howled in delight, jumping and waving their weapons. Ethan strode forward, toward the forest at the edge of the glade. He didn't know where he was going or what awaited him in Middle-earth. But one thing was certain—this world had no idea who it was dealing with.
(Images)