The sound of the front door closing behind him was softer than usual.
Leo didn't notice.
Or maybe he did — and just didn't react.
His shoes slid off near the entrance in a practiced motion, his school bag falling gently against the wall as if even gravity respected the quiet of the apartment. The hallway lights flickered once before stabilizing, casting a pale glow over the empty space.
No voices.No footsteps.No one calling his name.
Just like always.
He exhaled slowly, fingers lingering on the strap of his bag for a moment longer than necessary before letting go.
Another day over.
Another day where nothing particularly good or bad happened.
Just… average.
He walked into the living room, uniform slightly wrinkled, tie loosened halfway. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm louder than it should have been in a place this small. His eyes drifted toward the corner of the room — toward the sleek black capsule resting quietly against the wall.
The Full-Dive Unit.
Dust-free.Well maintained.Used more than anything else he owned.
Leo stared at it for a few seconds.
Then five.
Then ten.
"…I guess," he muttered under his breath.
There was no real excitement in his voice.Just a quiet familiarity.
Routine.
He changed out of his uniform, tossing it onto the chair before pulling on a loose hoodie and sweatpants. His movements were slow, unhurried — the kind of pace someone develops when they're used to having nowhere to be and no one waiting.
By the time he returned to the capsule, his expression had already settled back into its usual calm neutrality.
His hand hovered over the power panel.
For a brief moment, his reflection stared back at him through the glossy surface.
Sixteen.Average height.Unremarkable face.Eyes that looked more tired than they should for someone his age.
Nothing special.
Except one thing.
"…It's been a while."
The capsule hummed softly as it powered on.
A faint blue light illuminated the room, quiet and steady.
On the connected monitor, a familiar title slowly appeared:
Eidolon: Last Route
The letters were slightly outdated in design — older than modern VR interfaces. Slightly clunky. Slightly nostalgic.
Just like he remembered.
Once, years ago, this game had been popular.
Not mainstream.Not revolutionary.But loved by the players who stayed.
A full-dive romance fantasy world where choices mattered, routes branched, and characters felt… strangely real.
Then updates stopped.
Players left.
Servers went quiet.
And eventually, the game became something people only remembered in passing.
But it never fully shut down.
Leo's fingers brushed against the side of the capsule.
"I wonder if it's still… the same."
He didn't expect an answer.
He never did.
The lid opened with a soft mechanical hiss.
Warm air escaped from inside as he stepped in, lying down with practiced ease. The interior molded slightly to his body, sensors activating one by one with quiet, precise clicks.
The headset lowered automatically.
Darkness filled his vision.
Then—
Neural Sync Initiated.Full Dive Connection: Stable.
A familiar loading ring appeared in the void.
Leo felt his body grow lighter, heavier, and then distant all at once — the strange sensation of full-dive immersion wrapping around his consciousness like a thin veil.
He had experienced it countless times before.
Yet today…
It felt slightly slower.
The loading ring lagged.
Just a little.
"…Huh?"
His brows knit faintly.
That was odd.
This game was old, yes, but its loading sequences were always smooth. Almost too smooth. One of the reasons he liked it.
The ring froze for half a second.
Then continued.
He said nothing.
Just watched.
The title screen finally appeared.
A vast sky of soft twilight hues. Floating petals drifting endlessly across a fantasy landscape. Elegant orchestral music playing in the background — slightly lower quality than modern games, yet strangely warm.
Exactly the same.
Unchanged.
No patch notes.No announcements.No player count.
Still… empty.
Leo's chest tightened slightly.
"…Still running."
He selected Login.
No character selection screen appeared.
No avatar customization.
That was normal.
Eidolon: Last Route always used the player's real body as the base model.
The screen flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Instead of the usual town spawn animation…
The music cut out.
Silence swallowed everything.
Leo's vision dimmed.
"…?"
That had never happened before.
A faint distortion rippled across the sky of the title screen, like glass bending under invisible pressure. The petals froze midair. The background landscape blurred at the edges.
His heartbeat slowed.
Not from fear.
From focus.
Something was wrong.
Not dramatically wrong.
Just… slightly off.
Like a memory that didn't match reality.
Connection Stabilizing…
The text appeared briefly.
Then vanished before he could fully read it.
The world shattered into white light.
No transition.
No loading screen.
No system message.
Just—
Gravity.
Real gravity.
Wind.
Cold air brushing against his skin.
Leo's eyes snapped open.
The sky above him was no longer a digital twilight menu.
It was vast.Bright.Painfully real.
Clouds drifted slowly overhead.
And beneath him…
Grass.
Soft. Moving. Real grass.
His breath caught.
"…What."
His voice came out clearly.
Too clearly.
Not like voice chat.
Not like a game microphone.
His voice echoed slightly in the open air, carried naturally by the wind.
Leo pushed himself up slowly, fingers digging into the ground.
The sensation was immediate.
Texture.Temperature.Resistance.
Not haptic feedback.
Not simulated.
Real.
His hands trembled faintly as he looked down at them.
No UI.
No menus.
No minimap.
No status window.
Nothing.
Just his own hands.
"…This isn't…"
His words trailed off.
The environment stretched endlessly before him — rolling hills, distant forests, a faint outline of a town far on the horizon.
Exactly like the beginner region of Eidolon: Last Route.
Exactly.
And yet…
There was something deeply unsettling about it.
The wind felt too natural.The silence too complete.The world too… alive.
Leo slowly stood up, heart pounding quietly in his chest.
One thought formed in his mind.
Clear. Sharp. Unavoidable.
He hadn't chosen a character.
He hadn't customized anything.
He hadn't even reached the in-game spawn screen.
And yet—
He looked down at himself.
Same height.
Same clothes.
Same body.
"…I logged in as myself."
The words left his mouth in a whisper.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang faintly from the direction of the town.
Leo's gaze lifted toward the horizon.
For the first time since arriving…
A strange, unexplainable feeling settled in his chest.
Not excitement.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Just one quiet realization:
"…This game never had a route for me."
The wind passed through the fields again.
And for a split second—
The world around him flickered.