The next morning, the sun rose—but it was still the same burned-copper sky. The kind that looked like it had forgotten how to be blue.
Liora's sky always felt... tired.
Serin didn't say much over breakfast. She wasn't mad—just quiet. Watching. The inn had filled overnight, and not with locals. The kids here were clean, tense, wide-eyed. Some carried swords too new to have seen a real fight. Others had the quiet polish of those who'd survived one.
New applicants.
They were here for the same reason we were: the Hunter Academy trials.
I stirred the weak stew and glanced around casually.
Then I noticed him.
Table near the window. Dark green hair, long jacket, a token from one of the major factions sewn onto the lapel. The emblem was blurred—too new to identify.
But it wasn't his clothes that gave him away.
It was the pressure.
Like a wire drawn too tight.
> [Passive Scan: Aura Intent Detected]
Target: You
Skill Source: [Concealed – Unregistered Detection Class Ability]
Trace Level: Low / Watcher-Class Field
He was watching me.
And not with curiosity.
With purpose.
---
I kept my eyes on my bowl.
"Don't react," I said to Serin, quietly. "Third table from the left, near the window. He's marked me."
She didn't flinch. She just kept chewing.
"I felt it," she muttered back. "Barely."
"He's not from here. Either affiliated with a major group, or someone testing for reaction."
"To you?"
"To what I am."
---
It wasn't arrogance. I was fully aware I looked like nothing. A scrawny, barely-teenager with a cautious walk and average gear. But that was the danger.
In this world, too many players overestimated what they could see.
And underestimated the ones who didn't shine.
I got up, casually, and walked to the counter to pay for the room.
"Can we get something upstairs?" I asked. "Private."
The innkeeper grunted. "Extra fee."
I dropped three mana-shards onto the wood.
"Done."
---
We relocated before lunch.
Upstairs. Narrow window, thicker door. I sat near it, checking our surroundings from the view between two crooked shutters.
"He didn't follow," Serin said.
"No. But he'll report back."
She frowned. "You think this is a faction test?"
"Could be. Or worse. An early probe by the Administrator."
That name hung in the air.
In the game, the "Administrator" was a system function. A lore element. A part of the UI. But here?
Here, I wasn't sure it was just code anymore.
---
I left Serin to rest and walked out that afternoon—not into the streets, but beneath them.
Reinhal had a forgotten side. Beneath the inns and trade halls, old infrastructure groaned with the remnants of failed tech-magic projects: steam-pipes laced with sigil arrays, cracked mana conduits, failed arcane reactors.
And one particular substation.
> [Substation C-7 – Accessing Core Console]
Hidden Memory Fragment: Available
Play Log Sequence?
I accepted.
The world flickered.
Then a figure appeared in front of the control node.
A woman, wrapped in a cloak of half-burned sigils. Her skin was pale—cracked. Her voice was half-human, half-code.
> "If you're seeing this… then the game is already breaking."
I held my breath.
> "This world wasn't meant to last. Not like this. They patched it wrong. Something got through."
> "It's watching us now. Not the players. Not the NPCs. All of us."
I watched as her hand pressed against the reactor core.
> "You need to reach the Academy. That's where the real firewall still holds. But it's cracking."
The image shimmered.
> "And when the countdown hits zero—no one resets. No one respawns. It all ends."
The projection burned out.
I stood alone in the dark chamber, cold spreading through my chest.
---
Back at the inn, I returned quietly. Serin looked up.
"You're pale."
"Just tired."
I didn't tell her what I saw.
Not yet.
Instead, I looked out the window. Toward the horizon. Toward the distant smoke of Liora's central fortress.
Where the Academy waited.
---
> [Main Quest: Reach Liora Academy Before System Breach]
Time Remaining: 4 Days
Reward: Trait Unlocked – ???
Warning: Delay Will Result in Progression Lock
This world was breaking apart at the seams.
And I was starting to believe it wasn't just a broken game anymore.
It was something much, much worse.
And someone—or something—was watching me from the other side of the glass.