Where could she go?
I scanned the marketplace again, forcing myself to look at every face, every shadow between stalls. She wasn't here—I hadn't just missed her. My chest tightened further as dread clawed its way into my thoughts.
I turned back to the trinket vendor, leaning in with urgency in my voice. "If she comes back—if that girl comes back—tell her I'm going to the river."
The vendor gave a nonchalant grunt of acknowledgment, barely glancing up from his display of carved pendants.
No point standing here anymore.
Without hesitation, I spun on my heel and started toward the town gate. My legs carried me faster than I intended as I weaved through clusters of townsfolk and market-goers, their voices and movements blurring into background noise.
The river—it had to be there. She mentioned it herself during lunch, hadn't she? Even if this wasn't part of her plan originally... surely it was where she'd end up now.
The river's current thrummed in my ears long before I reached the bank. Mud squelched underfoot as I sprinted, scanning the waterline for any sign of her. Nothing but reeds bending in the breeze. My breath hitched as I pivoted upstream, following the jagged curve of the cliffside.
The hill rose like a broken tooth ahead.
"Lan-neechan!"
She stood silhouetted against the steel-gray sky, dress rippling in the wind. Ten paces from the cliff's edge. Twenty from me. Too far. Her hands hung limp at her sides, strands of hair dancing across eyes that didn't blink at the fifty-foot drop beneath her.
I scrambled up the slope, stones skittering under my boots. "Stop—just stop moving!"
Her head tilted half an inch. "Vel." Flat. Empty.
"What're you—" My throat clamped around the words as her right foot shifted backward. Closer to the void. "Please. Step away. Let's go home."
She gazed at the rushing water below. "You wouldn't understand."
"Understand what?" I inched closer, knees trembling. "Whatever it is, we'll fix it. All of us—Mom, Dad—"
"Fix." Her laugh came out brittle. "Like they fixed Oakhaven?"
Ice pricked my spine. The plum-sized bruise on her wrist from Trinon's ropes flashed in my memory. "...It's about the ritual, isn't it? What he wanted to—"
"He didn't lie." Her voice cracked. "The gods truly are silent here."
Another half-step back. Pebbles rained over the edge.
"No! Wait—" My hand shot out across the gulf between us. "If being a Saint mattered that much, do it here. Not for them—for me!"
"It's too late, Vel," Landre's voice came out brittle, cracking at the edges like a splintered mirror. Her shoulders sagged as if carrying an unbearable weight. "I can already feel it. My body... my spirit... something has changed."
Her words froze me in place. The wind carried the faint sound of rushing water below us, but it was drowned out by the pounding in my ears.
"What are you talking about?" My voice felt small, fragile against the vastness of her despair. I stepped closer, each movement cautious and deliberate. "Lan-neechan, you're not making sense—whatever this is, we can fix it!"
She shook her head slowly, her hair catching the wind like threads unraveling. "I can no longer feel warmth toward Shizka... or any god." Her gaze finally lifted to meet mine, and my chest tightened at the emptiness there. "They've grown distant."
"That's not true!" My voice cracked as I closed another step between us. "You always said Shizka's light never abandons anyone! That she—"
Landre raised a trembling hand to stop me, her expression unreadable yet impossibly heavy. "Don't you... see?"
As she spoke the word "see," her voice twisted into something unrecognizable—lower, deeper, reverberating like an echo from somewhere far beyond this world. The air around us seemed to still, thickening with an unnatural weight.
And then I saw.
Her eyes... They were no longer hers. The whites had vanished entirely, replaced by endless black voids that swallowed the daylight whole. It wasn't just darkness—it was absence, as though nothing existed within them anymore.
"Lan-neechan..." The name barely escaped my lips as a chill raced through me.
Whatever looked back at me now wasn't just Landre—it couldn't be. It wasn't human anymore; it conveyed something alien and unknowable that sent every instinct in me screaming to run.
The darkness pulsed outward from her like a living storm. Each tendril writhed with purpose, twisting the air itself into something sticky and wrong. Landre—or the thing wearing her face—tilted her head, vertebrae cracking audibly as though her neck had never moved before.
Voice like collapsing stars shook the ground beneath my feet. "Little worm. You stand before infinity and clutch your toy god-trinkets."
Her body levitated inches off the ground, blackened veins spiderwebbing across her skin. When the mouth moved next, the sound came from every direction at once. "When primal silence descends, prayers become screams. Aeonia's playthings will choke on their own divinity."
My knees buckled. "Let her go!" The words tore from my throat raw and desperate.
The thing laughed, and the sound stripped bark from nearby trees. "Release this host? Her despair tasted... exquisite. A feast of broken purpose." Landre's hand lifted, fingers elongating into shadowy claws. "Let me show you true mercy, fleshling. You'll thank me as I unmake your—"
"Lan-neechan!" I hurled the bait basket. Wriggling worms scattered across her face. "Fight it! Your faith isn't some... some spell you cast! It's who you are!"
For one fractured instant, Landre's features flickered through the void-mask. A twitch of real eyelids. A human gasp. The darkness recoiled like oil meeting flame.
The entity's shriek split the sky. "YOU DARE—"
Her body contorted, joints bending backward as the voice fractured into overlapping harmonies. "Mortal filth! We are the yawning maw that devoured your precious Primordials! The sudden gasp before eternal stillness!"
Rotten earth spread beneath her as she advanced. "You ask our name?"
The final word hit like a hammerblow to the soul.
"...VOID."
Void. The word punched through me like cold iron. The same force that erased the Primordials. I choked on the realization as Landre's shadow-drenched form hovered above crumbling earth. Blackened reeds withered where her steps didn't touch ground.
"Fight it, Lan-neechan!" My voice shattered against the unnatural stillness. "You survived Trinon! You survived the Wulfangs! This isn't how your story ends!"
Her head jerked sideways with a wet crunch. One human eye flickered through the swirling void behind her sockets. "...Vel?"
The Entity's roar split the air. Trees behind me exploded into splinters. "SILENCE, WRETCH!"
I lunged forward, gravel biting my palms. "You taught me to read! You wanted to be a Saint not for glory—for us!"
Landre's fingers spasmed. A sliver of her true voice cut through the Entity's cacophony. "S-Stay... back..."
"NO!" The Entity regained control, tendrils lashing from her mouth. "This vessel is MINE! Her despair is too SWEET to—
Her left hand suddenly clutched the corrupted Saint's amulet at her throat. Veins bulged as human and Entity warred beneath cracking skin.
"Vel..." Blood trickled from her nostrils as she wrestled the word free. "It needs... my consent... to fully manifest..."
Realization struck like lightning. The ritual. Trinon couldn't complete it either.
"Don't you dare—!" The Entity's protest dissolved into static as Landre turned toward the cliff's edge.
She smiled—the same gentle curve she'd worn when teaching me letters in Oakhaven. "Keep... them safe..."
"LAN-NEECHAN, NO!"
Her body arced backward into open air.
I scrambled forward, fingernails tearing as I dove for her sleeve. Fabric ripped. For one horrific instant, our eyes met as she fell—one human, one void.
Then nothing but rushing wind and my scream echoing across the gorge.
No. No, no, no—this isn't happening.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me. The edge of the cliff loomed ahead, jagged and unrelenting, but I forced myself forward. My heart hammered in my chest as I peered over the precipice.
Lan-neechan...
There she was, far below, her body crumpled against the rocky shore like a broken doll. Her dress fanned out around her, motionless except for strands of hair that fluttered weakly in the breeze. Face up. Frozen.
The world around me blurred as hot tears welled up and spilled over. My breath hitched painfully, and I staggered back a step before shaking my head violently.
"No!" The word tore from me raw and hoarse. "This can't be—!"
I turned and ran, legs moving on pure instinct. My descent was reckless—feet skidding against loose gravel as I stumbled down the slope toward the base of the gorge. Branches clawed at my arms; rocks tore at my knees when I fell more than once. None of it mattered. None of it even registered.
Only her.
"Lan-neechan!" The scream ripped through me as I reached the bottom, tearing past reeds and sharp stones until I saw her again.
She lay so still.
I dropped to my knees beside her, hands hovering uncertainly above her fragile form before daring to touch her face. Cold... too cold for comfort. Blood traced thin lines along her temple where sharp rocks had bitten into skin.
"Lan-neechan," I whispered shakily, brushing damp hair from her forehead with trembling fingers. Tears blurred my vision entirely now as sobs wracked through me uncontrollably.
"You're not allowed to leave! You hear me? Not after everything—not like this!"
I pressed my ear close to her chest desperately seeking any sign—anything at all—and froze when faint warmth brushed against my cheek: breath... shallow but there.
Alive.
A shaky laugh bubbled out of me between hiccupped sobs as relief flooded every fiber of my being. "You stubborn idiot..."
No. Not like this.
My mind roared to life, calculations and probabilities flashing before me as if I were staring at lines of code back at SolarTech. There had to be a way. There had to be something I could do—anything. Every scenario played out in my head, colliding into one another as desperation clawed at my chest. She was alive, barely, but that wouldn't last if I just sat here drowning in helplessness.
"Not on my watch," I muttered under my breath, fists clenched.
Landre's fragile frame lay crumpled before me, her breaths so faint they might as well have been whispers lost to the wind. My hands trembled as I raised them over her form.
"Status," I commanded firmly.
The air shimmered faintly before the translucent window materialized above her body.
Landre Novalance
HP: Flickering between 1 and 0
Status: Possessed, Tainted, Critical
I swallowed hard as the truth stared me down like a silent judge. The flickering HP... it was a miracle she was even holding on at all. But the status conditions—they were killing her inch by inch. My jaw tightened as realization set in: healing magic wouldn't work—not like this. The possession would feed on it, amplifying the void inside her until there'd be nothing left of Lan-neechan.
Fine. If healing wasn't an option, then I'd strip those cursed statuses away first. But how?
I opened my own Skill Window, hands fumbling slightly against invisible buttons only I could see. Two spells glowed dimly—Ice Lance and nothing else remotely useful for this situation.
"Damn it!" The words slipped out louder than intended as frustration mounted.
There had to be something else—a tool, a workaround, some forgotten piece of data that could make this right again. Anything! My mind pivoted sharply to another possibility: the Inventory Window.
I swiped it open with a shaky hand, tabs cascading past me in rapid succession. Miscellaneous items cluttered the interface—useless trinkets scavenged from debugging sessions long ago—but none of them mattered now... unless—
My eyes froze mid-scroll when they landed on it. A single item stood out against the sea of mediocrity:
[Debug Item] Orb of NPC Modification x1
Description: Edit NPC data.
One-time use.
Warning: Direct Access of [glitch words]. May trigger cascading consequences of world's line.
A chill coursed through me as I read its description twice—three times—to ensure my frantic mind wasn't deceiving itself.
"Edit NPC data..." My voice trembled as understanding began to dawn. This was it—a lifeline buried within forgotten debugging tools from my old life.
But... consequences?
"If I do this, am I really helping her... or am I turning her into something she wasn't meant to be?"
I selected the orb, my hands trembling as I pressed "Equip." It materialized in my palm—a sphere of swirling, translucent light that pulsed faintly with warmth. No hesitation now. I hovered it over Lan-neechan's broken form and willed it to activate.
The orb flared, sinking into her chest like a drop of ink into water. The world around me warped instantly—reality breaking into jagged, pixelated fragments. The ground beneath me shimmered, trees reduced to blocky textures, and even the sky above felt like an unfinished render. Yet amidst the chaos, Landre lay perfectly clear before me.
Then it appeared.
A massive text interface opened mid-air, overlaying everything in sight.
[NPC_NAME: Landre Novalance]
STATUSES:
Possessed (VOID-Entity: CORRUPT)Tainted (Soul Integrity: 12%)Internal Bleeding (Critical)
My breath hitched at the sight. Each line of data burned into my mind like a warning flare. This is good, I told myself, hands already moving instinctively across the interface. This was familiar ground—this was what I did. Debugging code... only this time, the stakes were beyond anything I'd ever faced.
"Alright," I muttered through gritted teeth. "One step at a time."
I highlighted each status line methodically and pressed the DELETE key on the floating interface.
[Error: Linked 'Taint' status detected. Remove dependencies first? (Y/N)]
"Shit—" My frustration boiled over for half a second before snapping back to focus. No time to dwell; I slammed Y, bracing myself for whatever came next.
Another message flashed:
Require Admin Permission.
"What?" My voice cracked as panic clawed its way up my throat. My mind scrambled for answers until realization struck like lightning.
Admin status. Of course—it wasn't just debugging anymore; I'd need access to privileges reserved for system-level control.
I forced my hand to stay steady as I opened my own Details Window, frantically scrolling down until I spotted it: Title. A dropdown menu sat beside it, waiting to be adjusted.
Two options appeared:
Human Divine (Admin only)
Without hesitation, I selected "Divine."
I switched back to the previous window, fingers trembling as the dependencies revealed themselves in stark clarity. Two connections appeared—one tethered to Landre, fragile and thin like a spider's web, and the other to The Void itself, a pulsating mass of corruption radiating malice.
No hesitation.
I selected the link between them. The interface shimmered as if resisting my command. My finger hovered over the option: Sever Connection. I pressed it with deliberate force.
The line snapped.
Landre's dependency wavered momentarily before stabilizing into something manageable, though faintly flickering. I exhaled sharply but moved on. Time wasn't a luxury here.
Next, I selected The Void and highlighted its presence entirely from her status. The option to delete appeared, bold and crimson like a warning siren blaring across my vision.
Delete [Reference]? Will not affect Source Data. Proceed?
Source data? Does this mean it will still exist somewhere? It didn't matter right now—I couldn't afford distractions or second-guessing, Landre is fighting for her life right now. My jaw tightened as I forced myself to hit Yes, bracing for whatever came next.
A rush of energy tore through the air around us as Landre's body spasmed violently beneath my hands. Her shadowy aura dissipated in an instant, leaving her skin pale but unblemished by that unnatural corruption.
My hands trembled as I swiped back to the interface. The word "Tainted" still pulsed ominously, flickering like a dying ember. With the Possessed condition gone, removing Tainted should be simple—at least in theory. I selected it and pressed DELETE.
The status vanished immediately. A wave of relief washed over me as Landre's breathing steadied slightly, though her overall state remained dire.
I turned my focus to the last obstacle: Internal Bleeding. Highlighting it, I hit DELETE, expecting another success.
Error: Unknown Code
"What?" My voice cracked in disbelief. The text glared back at me mockingly. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it. Errors like this weren't uncommon when you brute-forced changes without following proper procedures—it was like trying to overwrite live code while ignoring dependencies. Still, frustration gnawed at me.
"Fine," I muttered through clenched teeth. "We'll do this the hard way."
I knelt closer to her frail form, every second stretching unbearably long. Healing magic—that had to be the answer. But did I know any healing spells? My mind sifted through fragments of memory until something clicked.
That night... when we fled from the Wulfangs, Bestiel's grimoire had been open beside him. The runes etched on its pages danced faintly in my mind now—something about a healing spell he'd cast on Mari during her injury.
I shut my eyes, concentrating harder than ever before. Slowly, pieces began assembling themselves in my head—a faint hum of resonance that felt just out of reach.
Then, like a ripple breaking through water, a notification materialized before me:
New Spell Unlocked: Slow Heal
Incantation: Lienthar Solith Revinuem
My breath caught as hope surged anew. The words glowed faintly in my vision—foreign yet strangely familiar all at once. I placed my palm over Landre's chest and let the syllables roll off my tongue carefully.
"Lienthar Solith Revinuem."
A soft glow enveloped her body, warm and golden like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. It spread slowly across her wounds—not immediate but deliberate—stitching torn flesh together and soothing what pain lingered beneath the surface.
Her breathing grew deeper with each passing moment.
I let out a shaky sigh of relief as Landre's HP ticked up ever so slowly: 0.5, 1, 1.5. The process was painfully gradual, but the glow of regeneration was steady, a promise that she would stabilize in time.
The big interface now displayed a new line in green:
Status: Regenerating
My fingers hovered over the interface, ready to close it and let her rest. But something else caught my eye.
Affinity Graph
Curiosity sparked despite my exhaustion. I tapped on it, and a spider chart unfurled before me—a web of lines representing her affinities. My eyes immediately locked onto two specific points: Light and Earth. Both nearly touched a bold-colored outline—clearly some sort of threshold.
I stared at it, my mind racing to interpret what I was seeing. If this was what I thought it was... these thresholds likely marked the point of magic attunement. She was so close. Just barely out of reach.
Her hands copying prayers in that worn leather book flashed through my memory—the dedication etched into every stroke of her pen. All those nights she whispered to Shizka's name, hoping for guidance during Oakhaven's darkest moments.
"She deserves this." The words escaped me unbidden, soft but firm.
My hand moved instinctively across the interface. With precision, I retracted a few points from Fire and Chaos—elements that felt distant from who she truly was—and pushed them toward Light instead.
The change rippled across the graph instantly. The line representing Light surged past the threshold in a burst of golden light.
A new notification materialized before me:
Attunement Unlocked: [Light]Class Evolution Available: [Saint Initiate]
I froze for an instant, overwhelmed by the weight of what I'd just done.
Everything she's worked for... every sacrifice she's made... Trinon's schemes nearly erased it all. Her legacy would've died along with her. But I refuse to let that stand. Not while I'm here to stop it."
"You earned this," I murmured softly as warmth filled my chest, watching her form bathed in the soft glow of healing magic mingling with something even brighter—hope. "Lan-neechan."
A soft chime sounded as her status updated:
Landre Novalance
HP: 2.5/60 (Regenerating)
MP: Unknown
Affinities: Light (Primary), Earth (Secondary)
Class: Saint Initiate (Locked: Requires Church Consecration)
I exhaled, tension easing from my shoulders. The sight of her stabilizing health was like a balm on the raw edges of my panic. She wasn't out of danger yet, but at least the thread keeping her tethered to life had thickened just enough.
My fingers lingered above the interface. "Good Enough," I whispered to myself. Going any further felt... off. Despite the developer within me craving to refine and enhance every detail, this wasn't a mere test build anymore—this was her. A genuine person, alive and breathing. Altering too much would transform her beyond all recognition.
"Close interface? Orb of NPC Modification will be destroyed."
The prompt blinked before me, awaiting a decision.
My jaw tightened briefly before I tapped Yes. The interface dissolved instantly, like mist under the morning sun, taking with it the fragmented, pixelated landscape that had warped around us. Slowly, the world returned to its natural state—the jagged cliffs smoothing back into weathered stone, and the sky above regaining its gentle blue hue.
The orb floated upward from Landre's chest one last time before fracturing into countless tiny motes of light that dissipated into the air. I stared after them for a moment longer than necessary.
It was done.
"Wake up," I whispered hoarsely, brushing my knuckles against her cheek as if coaxing her spirit back to consciousness. "Lan-neechan... A new future is waiting for you."
The glow of healing magic still cradled her body like a cocoon, soft and warm—an echo of Shizka's light. It suited her somehow, like she belonged to it all along.
"Brighter days," I murmured softly as I sank back onto my knees beside her, letting exhaustion pull me down but never away from her side. "Just like you always wanted."
Her body twitched—a subtle, almost imperceptible movement—but it was enough. My breath caught as I leaned forward, every muscle in my body tense. Slowly, her HP ticked upward: 9... 10/60.
Her eyelids fluttered before parting, revealing the faint glimmer of consciousness. Relief surged through me so violently that I nearly collapsed beside her. With a thought, I toggled off all the intrusive windows cluttering my vision. Only one focus remained: Landre.
She blinked sluggishly, her gaze settling on me with a mix of confusion and exhaustion.
"Vel? What happened?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse but alive.
I laughed softly, the sound trembling under the weight of everything that had just transpired. "You happened, Lan-neechan." My tone wavered between teasing and scolding. "My dumb and stubborn sister—refusing to live properly but also refusing to die."
For a moment, she just stared at me blankly. Normally, she'd have snapped at me for calling her "dumb," but now... she looked too dazed to even process it.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she tried to piece things together. "Vel... I remember being... possessed," she murmured haltingly. "Flickers of consciousness... falling... And then..."
She trailed off, searching my face for answers she couldn't quite grasp on her own.
"Lan-neechan," I said softly, my voice catching in my throat. "I'll explain everything, but only if you promise me something first."
Her brow furrowed, confusion and worry mingling in her gaze. "What is it?" she asked, her voice weak but steady enough to remind me of her usual resolve.
I leaned closer, lowering my voice like it was some sacred vow. "Promise me you'll never do that again. Never let yourself be dragged into something so dangerous without letting someone help you."
Her lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but I held up a hand to stop her. My chest tightened as I forced the words out. "Lan-neechan... you don't understand what it was like seeing you like that. If I hadn't—" My throat closed up for a moment, and I swallowed hard before continuing. "Just... promise me."
She blinked at me slowly, as though processing the weight of my plea. Her fingers twitched against the blanket draped over her, and after what felt like an eternity, she gave the faintest nod.
"I promise," she murmured, her voice almost too soft to hear.
Relief flooded through me like a dam breaking, and I exhaled shakily. "Good." A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips despite myself. "Because I can't keep pulling off miracles like this every time you get into trouble."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly—there it was, that familiar spark of annoyance—but even that felt comforting after everything we'd been through.
"You're one to talk," she muttered weakly. "You look worse than me right now."
I let out a breathy laugh, leaning back on my heels as exhaustion finally caught up with me. "Yeah, well... maybe we both need to work on taking care of ourselves better."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze drifting toward the faint golden glow still lingering around her body—the remnants of healing magic and something more profound. Her fingers brushed lightly against the blanket as if testing her own reality.
For now... that was enough.
"Here's what happened, Lan-neechan," I began, my voice steady despite the chaos still buzzing in my chest. I needed to sell this story—needed her to believe it more than anything. "You fell down the cliff, or rather... jumped. You were lying still for a while... until..."
I paused, scratching the back of my head like I was struggling to find the words. Landre's gaze never left me, her eyes searching mine with a mix of curiosity and unease.
"Until what?" she whispered, her voice hoarse but insistent.
"Until this crazy thing happened!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up for emphasis. "I was so worried—I mean really worried—and honestly, I almost cried like a baby. Then out of nowhere, this sudden beam of light just... shined right on you."
Her brow furrowed slightly as if trying to recall any of it herself. I leaned forward, lowering my voice conspiratorially.
"Whatever that darkness was—it started screaming," I continued, making an exaggerated grimace for effect. "'I'll be back!' or something equally dramatic. And then... poof! It flew off into the sky like a bad nightmare."
Landre blinked at me, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.
"The gods," she murmured faintly, almost as if testing the words on her tongue.
I nodded vigorously. "Exactly! The gods must've heard your prayers, Lan-neechan." My tone softened as I let a hint of admiration creep in. "I think they saw how much faith you've always had—how hard you've worked to follow their path—and decided you deserved their help."
Her expression shifted subtly—a mix of awe and hesitation—as she glanced down at herself, at the faint green glow still fading from her body.
"And then," I added quickly before she could question anything further, "your body started glowing green—like magic or something—and all your wounds just... slowly disappeared."
She stared at me for what felt like an eternity before finally nodding, albeit weakly. "The gods..." Her voice trailed off again as she processed everything I'd said.
It wasn't perfect—it wasn't even close—but it would have to do for now.
"Lan-neechan," I urged, leaning closer, my voice carrying a quiet insistence. "You should try reciting Shizka's prayer."
Landre blinked at me, her exhaustion evident in the slow rise and fall of her chest. "What for?" she asked, her tone tinged with confusion and weariness.
"Just do it," I pressed, my eyes locking onto hers. There was a conviction in my voice that brooked no argument. "Trust me."
Her brows knitted together in hesitation, but after a moment, she nodded faintly. Slowly, Landre pushed herself upright with trembling arms, her movements deliberate as if every inch was an effort. Her hands came together in front of her chest, fingers intertwining naturally into a prayer posture.
She closed her eyes, the familiar rhythm of words falling from her lips like a soft melody—words she must've committed to heart long ago from that worn leather book she always carried. Each syllable was careful and reverent.
Suddenly, a faint shimmer emerged from between her clasped hands. It began as a subtle flicker but grew steadily brighter—a gentle white glow that spread like ripples across her form. The cold air around us shifted; the biting chill softened into something warm and soothing. It wrapped around me like an embrace, emanating from where Landre sat.
"See?! Shizka has listened!" I exclaimed triumphantly, my voice echoing against the stillness of the night.
Landre's eyes flew open as tears welled up within them. Her hand shot to cover her mouth as a quiet sob escaped—her shoulders trembling under the weight of overwhelming emotion. That light... it wasn't just magic; it was hope made tangible.
She didn't speak right away—couldn't speak—but the look on her face said everything: disbelief mingled with pure, unfiltered joy. For once, all the pain and fear etched into her features seemed to melt away entirely beneath that radiant glow enveloping her.
I stayed silent for now, letting her feel it fully—this moment she'd longed for so desperately yet never dared to expect would come true.
Unexpectedly, Landre lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around me. Her body, though battered and bruised, pressed against mine with a warmth that melted every ounce of my exhaustion. The faint shimmer of Shizka's light still lingered between us, soft and steady like a heartbeat.
"Vel..." she whispered, her voice trembling as tears dampened my shoulder. "Shizka has listened. The gods have listened... They finally acknowledge me as their subject." Her words cracked under the weight of emotion, spilling over in quiet sobs. "It's... it's a miracle."
I froze for a moment, unsure how to respond to the sheer intensity of her belief. Her faith had always been unshakable—an anchor in the storm of our lives—but now? Now it was something else entirely: vindicated.
Slowly, I brought my arms up, returning her embrace with gentle firmness. She felt so fragile yet so resolute in this moment. My voice steadied itself before I spoke.
"Yes, Lan-neechan," I murmured softly against her ear. "They've seen your struggles—your hard work, your sacrifices. They've always known." Each word came out deliberate and measured, carrying all the sincerity I could muster.
Her grip on me tightened ever so slightly as if holding onto those words like they were lifelines. The glow around us pulsed faintly in rhythm with her quiet sobs.
I swallowed hard, bracing myself for what I needed to say next—something that felt heavier than anything else I'd uttered in this world so far. My voice dipped lower, quieter but no less certain.
"The ones who created this world..." I began, barely above a whisper yet sharp enough to carve through the stillness between us. "They've known too well—and they would no longer stay quiet."
Her breath hitched against me at those words, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she clung tighter still—as if my presence alone could tether her amidst this sea of revelations.
The light from Shizka's blessing flickered gently around us like fireflies.
Landre's trembling form pressed against me, her sobs quieting into soft hiccups. The warmth of Shizka's light faded into the background, but her arms remained firmly wrapped around me. It had been long enough that the embrace was no longer comforting—it was becoming... awkward.
"Lan-neechan," I murmured, shifting slightly to signal discomfort. She didn't respond, her grip unyielding.
I cleared my throat. "Lan-neechan... maybe you should—" I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without upsetting her further. "Let go now?"
But instead of pulling back, she buried her face deeper against my shoulder. Her voice was muffled but carried an odd softness. "Just a bit more, Vel," she whispered, almost pleadingly. "You're so warm... so comforting."
My body tensed as an uneasy feeling crept up my spine. "Lan-neechan? What's going on?" I tried to pull away gently, but her grip tightened as if she were holding onto something far more than just me.
Her next words sent a chill through me. "There's something in you," she murmured faintly, almost dreamlike. "Something I can't explain... but it feels like I don't want to pull away yet."
My heart raced as her tone registered—soft and distant, yet unnervingly sincere. This wasn't like her at all. Landre might've been emotional or shaken before, but this? This bordered on unnatural.
"What the hell is happening?"
Did I break her? The thought hit me like a slap across the face. My stomach churned as my mind darted back to the Orb of NPC Modification—specifically to how I'd tweaked her stats and affinities. What changed?!
And then it clicked.
Oh no.
Shit!
My title! The damn Divine title was still active!
In an instant, everything clicked together painfully well: Saints are naturally drawn toward Divine beings. That's part of their core design philosophy in the game! It wasn't just admiration—it was almost gravitational in nature.
I swallowed hard as realization sank deeper. By leaving that title active... had I inadvertently triggered some sort of instinctual reaction within her? Something that wasn't supposed to happen between siblings—or anyone?
No amount of coding expertise could've prepared me for this particular nightmare scenario.
Her words, her grip—it was all wrong. My pulse hammered in my ears as I forced my thoughts into focus.
"Status!" I mentally commanded, the familiar translucent window snapping into view. My eyes darted to the line that read Title: Divine, glowing innocently yet mockingly. Of course, it had to be this.
With a sharp flick of intent, I swapped the title back to Human—no hesitation, no second-guessing.
The change was immediate.
Landre's grip on me loosened as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She blinked several times, her brows furrowing as she pulled back slowly. The warmth in her expression shifted into something more akin to confusion—and then embarrassment.
"Sorry," she murmured, her voice shaky but regaining some of its usual firmness. Her gaze dropped to the floor between us as she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "I don't know what got into me."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, managing a weak smile despite the whirlwind of emotions still churning inside me. "It's okay, Lan-neechan," I said softly, keeping my tone light and nonchalant. "You've been through a lot... anyone would feel a little off after everything."
She nodded faintly but didn't meet my eyes, instead shifting slightly to sit back. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of the blanket draped over her legs—a rare show of vulnerability for someone usually so composed.
I looked around, the faint glow of Shizka's light still lingering in the air. My shoulders ached from the tension of it all, but a strange calm settled over me now that the moment had passed.
"Well... are we still going to fish?" I joked, forcing a lopsided grin to break the heaviness hanging between us. "That was OUR intention, right?"
Landre's head snapped up, her expression shifting from confusion to something resembling incredulity. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might scold me. Instead, she huffed softly through her nose, almost like a pout.
"You jest," she muttered, shaking her head slightly. "We need to gather our gear and get back. Mom will want to hear about this."
Her words carried a sense of determination that felt grounding after everything we'd just been through. It was like she'd already compartmentalized the chaos and was ready to move forward—something I could only envy.
I stretched my arms above my head, feigning nonchalance as I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine," I said with mock reluctance. "But next time, you owe me some quality fishing time, Lan-neechan."
Her eyes narrowed at me ever so slightly, but there was a flicker of warmth in them now—a spark of the sister I knew before all this madness began. Without another word, she adjusted the blanket draped around her shoulders and began standing up slowly.
As we gathered ourselves and prepared to head back home, I couldn't help but feel an odd sense of relief wash over me. This is how things supposed to be.