Divine Glitch: I Regressed With Endgame Knowledge-Chapter 50: The Weight of a Glorious Achievement:

Ryan stood in silent awe as the world around him lit up with blinding brilliance. A figure began to materialize from the light—radiant, ethereal, and almost too bright to look at directly. He squinted, shielding his eyes as the glow intensified.

Just moments ago, he’d returned to the inn, grabbed a drink, and was preparing to log off. But instead of returning to his bedroom in the real world, he was here—wherever "here" was.

"Greetings, Ryan."

The voice came from everywhere at once, deep and resonant. The figure’s outer glow softened, revealing a humanoid form with one distinct difference: a third, vertical eye gleamed in the center of its forehead.

Ryan tensed, his instinctive caution flaring. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

His tone was controlled, calm even, though he could feel the tension in his shoulders.

"Please, do not be alarmed, Earthling," the being replied, its voice carrying a strange mix of arrogance and warmth. "I hail from a distant world unlike your own. You may refer to me, in your human manner, as Antar."

Ryan frowned slightly but didn’t move. Whatever this was, it didn’t feel hostile—at least not yet.

"Why am I here?" he asked. "What do you want from me?"

He opened and closed his fists slowly, more to keep his nerves in check than out of aggression. His voice stayed light, casual, like he was chatting with a game NPC.

Antar chuckled, reading Ryan’s act for what it was. "As I said, there’s no need for alarm. I brought you here because of the three Glorious Achievements you’ve earned. When the first player unlocks one, I’m... required to make contact."

The air shimmered. With a wave of Antar’s hands, the radiant void around them faded, replaced by a modest, well-lit room. Simple furniture. Warm lighting. It felt oddly peaceful.

"Please," Antar said, gesturing toward a low couch at the room’s center. "Sit. We have much to discuss."

Ryan did as asked, eyes wary but curious. The surrealness of it all was giving way to something else—an eerie sense that he was on the edge of a deeper truth.

As Antar spoke, explaining things in full, Ryan’s expression shifted repeatedly—first doubt, then realization, then the widening of his eyes as pieces began to fall into place.

"So the game... it wasn’t created by humans?" he asked. "And much of it’s been altered—and now the main servers aren’t even on Earth?"

Antar nodded solemnly.

"That’s why it can’t be hacked or modified from the outside," Ryan said, more to himself than anyone else. His thoughts were racing, heart pounding in his chest. "No wonder..."

"You’ve introduced technological levers into the game," he added, eyes narrowing. "Tools and systems that can accelerate scientific advancement in the real world?"

"Precisely," Antar confirmed.

It suddenly made sense—how, in his previous life, technology had taken such a sudden leap forward. But Antar’s next words brought him crashing back to reality.

"These levers only activate when specific milestones are met. If even one condition is broken or skipped, the system shuts down. Everything—every advancement—will disappear."

Ryan stared at him. "So... if we mess up, we lose everything?"

Antar’s expression was grave. "That is correct. Your people must push forward with everything they have."

For a while longer, they talked—about the game, about its true purpose, and about humanity’s role in all of it. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the meeting ended.

Ryan opened his eyes to the dim glow of his bedroom. He sat up, removed the virtual headset, and placed it gently on the nightstand. Molly and Mia were still fast asleep beside him, their quiet breathing steady and calm.

Moving carefully so as not to wake them, Ryan stepped out onto the balcony. The night air hit him like a wall. Even with the old house’s cooling system struggling to keep up, the heat was relentless. Summer hadn’t loosened its grip yet.

He leaned on the railing, staring out at the moonlit street. The city looked peaceful—silent even—but he knew that wouldn’t last.

If the cooling system died, the house would become unbearable. But it wouldn’t matter soon. They were moving out, finally. A better place. A better life.

His thoughts drifted back to Antar.

Glorious Achievements. Technological levers. It all sounded so vast, so important.

And yet... weren’t some of those achievements relatively easy to earn once you got into the game?

Why had he been the first?

Ryan frowned slightly, watching the city sleep beneath the stars.

He thought back to his first one—earned by defeating a Guardian—and the second, awarded for clearing the novice dungeon. Both were milestones that, while important, came down to persistence and time.

The third had been different. That one had taken real effort—so much so that in his past life, no guild had ever managed it. But even so, there were still plenty of other Glorious Achievements that players could obtain without facing true resistance.

It was like handing the keys to advanced technology over to humanity on a silver platter.

But now, for the first time, Ryan understood there was a distinction—one Antar had made very clear.

Not all Glorious Achievements were equal.

True Glorious Achievements weren’t just difficult. They were legendary feats—records carved into the game’s very foundation. They had to be rare, hard-fought, or nearly impossible. Some were the result of relentless dedication over months or years. Others could only be triggered under unique conditions—once missed, they’d never appear again.

And only those kinds—true Glorious Achievements—could unlock what Antar called "technological levers."

The others? They offered mere enhancements. Useful, yes. Even revolutionary in their own way. But not transformative.

Antar had told him plainly: today’s achievement had pushed human technology forward by approximately ten years.

That stunned Ryan. Not even entire research institutions could manage such a leap, and yet here he was—just one player, nudging civilization forward through a video game.

He let that sink in.

In his past life, he’d worried about being too high-profile, about drawing dangerous attention. But now, that concern felt laughable.

Anyone who understood even a fraction of what he’d done would never try to harm him. The Federal Government wouldn’t allow it. He was too valuable.

Why would any true power—corporate, political, or military—let a walking breakthrough like him be threatened?

Sure, the lower-tier types might still come sniffing around. Greedy players, jealous nobodies. But they wouldn’t matter for long. Protection would come, quietly and thoroughly. And when the Zanes began to rise with him—backed by silent allies and sudden wealth—those pests wouldn’t even get close.

Ryan finally allowed himself to breathe.

With his real-world concerns handled, all that remained was the game itself. His goal now was singular: track down and earn the hardest, most elusive Glorious Achievements. As long as he did that, everything else would fall into place.

He pulled out his bank card, just to look at it. The numbers on the screen made his heart race.

Millions—already deposited by the Federal Government as a direct reward. Not for in-game progress, not for any leaderboard—no, this was for unlocking a single technological lever.

And there would be more.

Back in the bedroom, Ryan lay on his back, staring up at the cracked and sagging ceiling. His pulse was still racing. The room felt stifling. The busted cooling system didn’t help.

"Ryan... it’s so hot..." Molly mumbled in her sleep, sweat glistening on her forehead.

Ryan looked over at her, then at Mia, curled up beside her.

"Don’t worry," he whispered with a faint smile. "It won’t be hot for long."

He gave them the bed, grabbed a pillow, and stretched out on the cool living room floor.

Sleep took him almost instantly.

’Tomorrow,’ he thought, drifting off. ’I’ll go after the next Glorious Achievement.’