The battlefield was silent.
Shards of corrupted data floated in the air like dying embers, fading slowly into the glitching ground. Arin stood with his chest heaving, the familiar burn of adrenaline mixing with the exhaustion that always followed after pushing his exploits too far.
Beside him, Lyra leaned against the broken fountain that had appeared mid-fight, her corrupted arm flickering with unstable static. She didn't look at him, but her breathing was uneven, ragged.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to hold its breath.
Finally, Arin broke the silence."That… Exploit Sync." He flexed his hands, recalling the feeling of their skills overlapping, merging into something neither of them could have done alone. "We should use it again. Refine it."
Lyra gave a faint, wry smile. "You make it sound like training a pet trick. It nearly tore me apart."
"You nearly tore yourself apart," Arin shot back, then regretted the sharpness in his tone. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look… I'm saying, if we can combine our glitches, we might stand a chance against—"
He stopped. His throat went dry at the name he almost spoke.
Lyra's gaze sharpened. "Against Kael."
Arin's jaw tightened. He hated how casually she said it. Like Kael wasn't a walking storm.
Lyra tilted her head, silver hair catching the fractured light. "You've fought him before, haven't you?"
"Barely," Arin admitted. "And I lost. Badly." His hand clenched into a fist. "He's… different. Stronger. Smarter. And if he's collecting exploits like we are, then…"
Lyra finished for him. "…then every fight from now on is going to feel like the one we just survived."
Arin nodded grimly.
Just then, a faint rustling echoed from the treeline. Arin stiffened, rock-weapon in hand, while Lyra's corrupted blade flickered into existence.
But instead of monsters, three figures stumbled into view. Players.
Their clothes were torn, their avatars glitching faintly like corrupted files. One of them limped, another had a blank look in his eyes.
Arin stepped forward cautiously. "You… survived?"
The first player—a girl with a fractured staff—nodded shakily. "We… barely. Kael came through this area. He—he took people with him."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Took?"
The girl swallowed hard. "He offered us a choice. Join him, or be deleted."
Arin's stomach twisted. "And you chose…?"
The girl lowered her gaze. "We ran. But others… didn't."
The silence that followed was heavier than the battle had been.
Kael wasn't just fighting for survival. He was building an army. An army of exploit users.
Arin's fists trembled. His defeat at Kael's hands came rushing back—every moment of weakness, every failure. He had sworn not to repeat it.
Lyra spoke softly, but her words cut sharp. "If Kael's gathering strength, then we can't waste time. You need to get stronger, Bugged One. Stronger than him."
Arin met her gaze. In her eyes, he saw the reflection of his own determination.
He wasn't just fighting for survival anymore.He was fighting to stop Kael from turning this glitched world into his kingdom.
And for that… he would need every exploit, every trick, and every ounce of broken power this cursed world could give him.