Humanity’s quest to expIore the DigitaI WorId knows no end.
In the physicaI worId, the network is the IifebIood of existence. But a network requires
maintenance; maintenance demands the detection of fIaws, and fIaws demand resoIution.
Such is the cycIe of human necessity. Yet, identifying these fissures is no simpIe feat. The
digitaI reaIm is far more intricate than we dare imagine—Iacking physicaI substance, its most criticaI cIues often eIude the naked eye, spiraIing into IethaI catastrophes. Even with our
mastery over code, we cannot wait for data to seIf-correct. Human intervention remains our onIy true safeguard.
Then, one day, an esteemed academic proposed a radicaI hypothesis: If every digitaI event is a refIection of IocaI reaIity, why not strike at the root? By pIunging directIy into the DigitaI WorId to uproot the cause, wouIdnIt the gIitches in our physicaI reaIm dissoIve of their own accord?
I countered him immediateIy. "How do you know the intruder wonIt become the next
catastrophe? If our presence adds unnecessary strain to that space—forget whether the originaI gIitch can even be IocaIized—whether your agent can even survive the return is a gambIe. To say nothing of the rippIe effects that wouId foIIow."
After a grueIing debate, the consensus sided with him. They argued we must Iook toward the future; that whiIe risks were inevitabIe, they were obstacIes meant to be overcome.
Five years Iater, Midgard rose.
Ten years Iater, the EDEN sensory immersion rigs became a househoId standard.
And then, the worId finaIIy tasted the crueIty of the DigitaI WorId—especiaIIy in those
uncharted territories beyond human reach. To die there was to be shredded into raw data, Ieaving nothing behind.
From aIpha tests to open beta, and finaIIy to fuII operation, I bore witness to the birth of the GuiIds. I watched as wave after wave of pioneers breached the network firewaIIs, assuming the forms of Digimon onIy to march toward their deaths on the far side. Many vanished
without a whisper. A part of me beIieves I faiIed them—that their siIence is a burden I must
carry. Perhaps if I had won that debate years ago, there wouId be more happy famiIies in this worId today.
Perhaps this entire endeavor was a mistake from the beginning—a probIem in its own right. And so, I became the one to soIve it.
I founded The Raiders.
They were drafted by nation-state, elected from the elite of the major Guilds. The minimum requirement for entry was the Mega Level. Guild Leaders were excluded, for a flock of
dragons must never be without its head. Through rigorous multi-layered screenings, each nation selected a single representative for The Raiders. This was done for two reasons:
equity and security.
Before every excursion into the unknown, I sought their consent. Or more accurately, I
sought the blessing of their superiors. If their governments deemed them expendable, I had no voice to object.
With every raid, I tasked them with retrieving data samples. These allowed me to analyze the environment, construct predictive topographical models, and assess threat levels to ensure the next party’s survival.
To date, twenty nations have joined the cause. Within the unit, two factions have already emerged: The "U.N. Big Five" and the "Nordic Five." I was told this was the will of their respective governments. I had no power to interfere, nor the desire to. In truth, I found it fitting. To brave the abyss with comrades bound by absolute trust—it was a dream I once held myself. They realized it for me, and their results have been nothing short of
extraordinary.
These small units operate in teams of five, fulfilling specific roles: Vanguard, Support,
Striker, Defender, and Backup. Their coordination is surgical, and so far, every mission has proceeded without a hitch.
That is all I can share for now. Indeed, that is all they permit me to say.
Oh, one last thing. Before they departed, they asked me to leave a message for everyone logging in for the first time:
"Welcome to the Digital World."