Abyss wasn't a game.
It had never been one.
Levels, skills, stats - those weren't rules native to this world. They were imported structures. Leftovers from millions of different games, carried here by people who didn't arrive empty-handed.
Abyss didn't create those systems.
It tolerated them.
Clans were one of the clearest examples.
Not because Abyss needed hierarchy, but because humans did.
The clan hall behind us wasn't a base or a lobby. Just a place Abyss hadn't erased yet.
Our first mission came one cycle later.
Splenti's instructions were brief.
"Recon and stabilization. Low-tier disturbance. Take Dim."
No speeches.
No explanations.
I nodded.
Dim cracked his knuckles, smiling. "Just like old times."
The phrase felt inaccurate.
Old times had rules.
Abyss only had outcomes.
***
The path felt familiar.
Not because Abyss resembled the game we came from because it didn't.
But because Dim and I had learned to move together somewhere else. In a system that rewarded coordination instead of survival.
"Southern routes still suck," Dim said, walking a step ahead of me. "Different world, same bad design."
"Terrain memory," I replied. "Not world-specific."
He glanced back with a smirk. "You always had a name for everything."
I didn't answer.
The memory was still there.
The attachment wasn't.
***
We reached the disturbance zone without resistance.
That unsettled me.
Low-tier Abyssal entities didn't wait patiently.
"System Node should be inside," Dim said, pointing at a fractured structure ahead. "We go in, secure it, get out."
"Clean missions don't exist," I replied.
Dim laughed lightly. "You say that like it's new."
It wasn't.
The reason was.
***
The first entity emerged between the broken pillars.
Humanoid.
Low density.
Unstable movement.
Dim reacted immediately.
I reacted earlier.
I tapped his wrist, just enough to redirect his strike and shift the angle.
"What-?"
"Foot placement," I said. "You were open."
The entity lunged.
I didn't rush.
I waited for commitment.
When it chose, I moved.
One step.
One pivot.
My blade followed its motion instead of opposing it, slicing through tendons rather than aiming for the core.
The entity collapsed.
Dim stared at it. Within his thoughts, something felt wrong. Not the result - the method.
"You didn't go for the kill," he said.
"It was already non-viable," I replied. "Termination was delayed."
Dim frowned. Back in the game, Armi would've joked. Or rushed. Or celebrated the clean hit.
This Armi did none of that.
"That's… not how you used to talk," Dim said.
I acknowledged the statement.
Then discarded it.
***
The second engagement was worse.
Two entities.
Shared rhythm.
Basic coordination.
Dim covered my flank like always. Muscle memory from another world.
He noticed his timing slip - less than a second, but enough.
Before he could adjust, I already had.
I broke formation, drawing both entities toward me, forcing their attack vectors to overlap.
They collided.
I finished them before Dim completed his second step.
Silence returned.
Dim exhaled sharply. His heart was racing.
Armi's wasn't.
"You could've said something," Dim said.
"You would've reacted slower," I replied.
"That's not the point."
Dim stopped talking.
He looked at me properly this time.
Within his thoughts, a realization formed - Armi wasn't relying on instinct anymore.
He was relying on inevitability.
***
We secured the Node without resistance.
As the System finalized the stabilization, my Status Window surfaced on its own.
The familiar interface felt heavier than it used to.
It recorded a Non-Standard Combat Resolution.
A secondary line followed, quieter but more concerning.
A Cross-Origin Pattern had been detected.
Dim noticed my pause.
"So," he said, forcing a grin, "guess we did something right."
I stared at the window a moment longer than necessary.
"Or something incompatible," I replied.
Dim didn't laugh.
***
On the way back, Dim walked behind me.
Unusual.
"Hey," he said eventually. "You good?"
"I'm functional."
"That's not what I asked."
I stopped and turned toward him.
For a moment, I searched for the correct response.
Not the optimal one.
The human one.
"I think," I said carefully, "I'm learning faster than I should."
Dim swallowed.
Within his thoughts, a quiet fear settled - not of Abyss, but of the person in front of him.
"Armi… you're starting to scare me."
I checked myself for fear.
Found none.
"That's inefficient," I replied.
The silence that followed was heavier than any fight.
Abyss didn't react.
It never did.
It only recorded.