"That presence… It's a Founder."
Silas's words, quiet and strained, dropped into the oppressive silence of the wasteland like a lead weight. They didn't make sense. They couldn't. My mind, already frayed from days of fruitless searching, rejected the statement outright.
"A Founder?" I echoed, my voice tight with disbelief. "What are you talking about? That's impossible. The Founders are the ones who built the city. The Builder, the old Adventurer leader… they're our leaders. Our protectors. Why would one be out here? And why would you look like you've just seen a ghost?"
My questions were a frantic, desperate attempt to impose logic on a situation that was rapidly spiraling into a nightmare. My understanding of this world, fragile as it was, rested on a few core truths, and the Founders being the bedrock of our society was one of them.
It was Elara who answered, her voice a soft, melancholic whisper that seemed to be pulled from the very air around us. She took a step forward, her violet eyes fixed on the same distant point that held Silas in its thrall.
"Kael," she began, her tone gentle, like a teacher speaking to a confused child. "Remember what I told you of the Great Un-Archive? How this place is not truly empty, but filled with the echoes of data that was lost or discarded?"
I nodded slowly, my heart beginning to hammer a slow, heavy rhythm against my ribs.
"You are thinking of the Founders as they are now—as complete individuals, stable and whole, residing within the city's walls," she continued. "But you must understand, this place… it remembers everything. Every hero, every battle, every last, desperate stand. What Silas feels is not a person. It is an echo. A fragmented data-ghost of a Founder from a time long past, still clinging to existence out here in the ruin."
A data-ghost. The term was poetic, but it did little to ease the cold dread coiling in my stomach. "A ghost? But why? What happened?"
My confusion was a tangible thing, a fog that even the grim reality of the situation couldn't quite pierce. It was Miyuri who stepped forward to clear it, her usual, crisp professionalism now colored by a deep, historical reverence. She looked not at the horizon, but at me, her emerald eyes filled with a solemnity I had never seen before.
"To understand what you are facing, Kael-san, you must understand the history of this world," she said, her voice clear and structured, like a lecturer beginning a critical lesson. "You see Out of Boundary City as it is now—a fortress, a sanctuary. But before it existed, this… all of this," she gestured to the vast, grey emptiness around us, "was all there was. This was our world."
She took a deep breath, and began her story.
"In the beginning, when the first deleted characters manifested, there was no order. There was no safety. There was only the wasteland, and a savage, endless war for survival. We would spawn into this broken world, confused and alone, only to be hunted by the corrupted data-forms—the glitches and monsters that festered here. We fought each other for scraps of stable code, for momentary pockets of safety. It was chaos."
I tried to imagine it. A world without walls, without factions, without any hope but the next sunrise. It was a terrifying thought.
"Then," Miyuri continued, a new warmth entering her voice, "the Builder arrived. He was different. While others had skills for fighting, for surviving, he had a skill for creating. He could take the broken, chaotic data of this world and give it structure, purpose, and form. He was a beacon of hope in the endless grey. The first foundation stone of our city was laid, and for the first time, people had something to rally around."
"Factions were born not from a desire for power, but from a desperate need for order," she explained. "The first Adventurers were not glory-seekers; they were the shield. They formed a perimeter around the Builder, holding back the tide of monsters while he worked. The first Administrators were not bureaucrats; they were the logisticians, organizing survivors, rationing resources, creating the very first laws that separated us from the savagery of the wasteland. These first leaders, these brave, powerful souls who stood against the chaos… they were the original Founders."
She paused, a shadow of profound sadness crossing her face. "But the city was not built in a day. It took years. Decades. And for every wall that was raised, for every district that was secured, a price was paid. The wasteland fought back. The corrupted data seemed to feel this new, ordered existence as a threat, and it threw everything it had at the fledgling city. The war was relentless. And Founders… Founders died."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Of course. People had died. I had seen the brutality of this world firsthand. But the thought of a Founder, one of these legendary figures, actually falling…
"They passed the torch," Miyuri said softly. "When one leader fell, another, proven in battle and spirit, would rise to take their place. The title of 'Founder' was a burden, a responsibility, and often, a death sentence. And when these powerful individuals fell, their data, saturated with the unique energy of this world, did not simply vanish."
"It corrupted," I whispered, the final, horrifying piece of the puzzle clicking into place. "They became Lineage Monsters."
Miyuri nodded, her expression grim. "The strongest, most rage-filled of them did. Their data twisted, their purpose warped into a mindless hunger. The monstrosities you and Erina have fought… they were once heroes. And the Lineage Orbs they leave behind? Those are the last, crystallized remnants of their original skill data. A tragic echo of the power they once wielded."
I felt a wave of nausea. The orb in my pocket suddenly felt obscene, like a stolen relic from a hero's grave.
But my mind was still snagged on one detail. "But Elara said this was a fragment. A ghost. Not a monster." I still didn't understand the immediate, paralyzing fear that had gripped Silas.
It was Silas himself who finally spoke, pushing himself away from the petrified tree. His face was pale, but the fear had been replaced by a grim, razor-sharp focus. He looked at me, his eyes dark with a terrible clarity.
"You're still thinking like a gamer, Kael," he said, his voice flat and devoid of its usual humor. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand. Elara and Miyuri gave you the history lesson. I'll give you the threat assessment."
He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "When a Founder falls and becomes a Lineage Monster, their data is corrupted. They get stronger, tougher, angrier. But they get dumber. They become beasts, driven by a simple, overriding instinct to destroy. They're dangerous, but they're predictable."
He paused, letting the silence stretch.
"What we're feeling out there is different," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "That is the data-ghost of a Founder who died, but who did not fully corrupt. It hasn't become a mindless monster. That means it has retained its original data. Its memories. Its skills. Its combat experience."
He let that sink in before delivering the final, devastating blow.
"A Lineage Monster will attack you with claws and brute force. A Fallen Founder will attack you with the same advanced, high-level combat techniques and tactical genius that made them a legend in the first place. They don't fight like an enhanced monster. They fight like the hero they used to be."
A cold dread, far deeper and more terrifying than any I had felt before, washed over me. An enemy with the power of a Lineage Monster, but the mind of a veteran warrior.
"And their purpose is different," Silas concluded, his eyes as hard as flint. "The old Founders fought and died to protect the city from the chaos of the wasteland, to preserve order against the endless tide of corrupted data. Their final, lingering directive, burned into their very code, is to eliminate any and all threats to that order."
He looked at me, then at Erina, his gaze finally encompassing our entire group.
"To a fragmented, ancient ghost-hero, what do you think we are? A group of mismatched individuals, carrying a cursed orb of chaotic power, traipsing through the wasteland far from the city's protection."
His voice dropped to a final, chilling whisper.
"To it, we are the chaos. We are the corrupted data. We are the abnormalities. And its sole purpose… is to delete us."