The road to Valenor was quieter than Ethan expected.
After everything that had happened in the Blackwood Expanse, he had expected the world to feel different.
More dangerous.
More chaotic.
Perhaps some hidden enemy would emerge from the shadows the moment he left the forest.
But nothing happened.
No monsters attacked.
No armies appeared on the horizon.
No mysterious voice announced a new quest.
There was only the road.
And the wind.
And the endless sky above him.
Ethan walked.
For hours.
Then days.
The silver armor carried him forward with effortless strength, each step covering more distance than any human body could manage. The Celestari armor adjusted to the terrain automatically, increasing stability on rocky paths and reducing weight when crossing softer ground.
It was incredible.
And slightly annoying.
Because every reminder of the armor was also a reminder that something was wrong.
This wasn't a costume.
It wasn't a character model.
It wasn't a skin he had equipped after grinding for hundreds of hours.
This was him now.
At least...
Part of him.
Ethan looked down at his armored hands.
The same hands that had torn through iron cages.
The same hands that had held a weapon formed from his own body.
The same hands that had created magic powerful enough to wipe out an entire battlefield.
"I still can't believe this is happening."
The voice inside his mind responded.
"You have repeated that statement approximately eighty-seven times."
Ethan sighed.
"You counted?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because repetition often indicates stress."
Ethan looked toward the road ahead.
"You sound different."
A pause.
The response that came afterward was not the usual calm, emotionless tone.
It was deeper.
Older.
The voice carried more weight than before.
Not just a warrior.
A commander.
A knight who had stood on battlefields for centuries.
There was also a strange rhythm to it.
Almost like an old sailor telling stories beside a fire.
A faint Welsh-like accent colored the words, giving them a noble but weathered quality.
"I have adjusted my vocal patterns."
Ethan stopped walking.
"...You changed your voice?"
"Aye."
Ethan blinked.
"Did you just say aye?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because my previous voice did not accurately represent my identity."
Ethan stared forward.
"You sounded like a computer."
"I was a digital construct."
"Fair."
The voice continued.
"I am now attempting to speak in a manner more appropriate for a Celestari warrior."
Ethan tilted his head.
"So you decided to sound like a space knight who spent thirty years as a pirate?"
A brief pause.
"...That description is inaccurate."
"You sound exactly like that."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
Krindrus remained silent.
Then:
"I will consider adjusting further."
Ethan laughed quietly.
It was strange.
A few days ago, he had been sitting in his apartment eating instant noodles and playing a video game.
Now he was walking across another world with an ancient alien warrior living inside his mind.
And somehow...
The most normal thing about all of it was arguing with Krindrus.
"Honestly," Ethan said, "I think the voice fits."
"Explain."
"You don't feel like some ancient machine anymore."
The road stretched ahead.
"You sound like someone who has actually lived."
Silence followed.
Longer than usual.
Then Krindrus answered.
"I have."
The simple statement carried more weight than Ethan expected.
He glanced toward the horizon.
"You know, when I made your character..."
"I am aware."
Ethan ignored that.
"I never imagined any of this."
"I know."
"You were just supposed to be the strongest build I could make."
A small smile formed beneath Ethan's helmet.
"The ultimate character."
Krindrus said nothing.
Ethan continued.
"I spent months designing everything."
"The Celestari race."
"The armor."
"The abilities."
"The backstory."
He looked down.
"Funny thing is... I barely cared about the story."
"Explain."
"I was always more interested in gameplay."
Ethan chuckled.
"I skipped dialogue. I rushed quests. I focused on unlocking gear."
"Yet you created a character with extensive history."
"Because the lore was cool."
"Interesting."
"What?"
"You created a warrior whose history you ignored."
Ethan frowned.
"That's not exactly what happened."
"Is it not?"
Ethan opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Because Krindrus had a point.
He had created a character who was supposed to be more than just numbers.
More than damage output.
More than abilities.
And now he was living with the consequences.
As he continued down the road, Ethan found himself thinking about the game.
Heaven Bound Hero's.
The game that had consumed years of his life.
The world he thought he understood.
But now...
He realized he never actually knew it.
Not completely.
The biggest difference was the people.
The characters.
The ones he once thought of as simple digital creations.
The heroes.
The villains.
The companions.
They had all been real.
Or perhaps they had always been real.
He just never knew.
The thought led him to the main story.
The story of the hero.
Damian Kingston.
The chosen champion.
The character every player followed.
Unlike Ethan's custom character, Damian wasn't created by players.
He was the protagonist.
The center of the entire world.
A young man who discovered he possessed the power of the ancient Hero's Core.
The warrior destined to unite kingdoms against the Demon Emperor.
Ethan remembered playing through Damian's storyline.
The first meeting.
The first battle.
The companions he gathered.
The sacrifices.
The victories.
Damian had been everything Ethan wasn't.
Confident.
Charismatic.
Purpose-driven.
When Ethan played the game, he had always admired Damian.
Not because he was the strongest.
He wasn't.
There were plenty of builds that could surpass him.
But Damian had something no player character could truly replicate.
A reason to fight.
"He should be here."
Krindrus' voice interrupted his thoughts.
Ethan stopped.
"What?"
"The Hero."
Ethan looked ahead.
"You know about Damian?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Krindrus didn't answer immediately.
"Because his existence is connected to the fate of this world."
Ethan became quiet.
That was something he already suspected.
Damian wasn't just some random protagonist.
The entire world revolved around him.
The wars.
The demons.
The ancient prophecies.
Everything.
"But the timeline is wrong."
Ethan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The events do not match my memories."
"Because I changed things?"
"Possibly."
Ethan looked back toward the forest behind him.
Black Hollow.
The orcs.
The prisoners.
None of that had happened in the game.
At least not where he remembered.
"And Damian?"
"Unknown."
Ethan felt a strange weight settle in his chest.
The original story was already changing.
Which meant he couldn't rely on his game knowledge anymore.
He wasn't following a script.
He was walking through an unknown future.
"What do you think happened?"
Krindrus was quiet.
Then:
"I believe..."
"The story you knew was only one possibility."
Ethan continued walking.
"And now?"
"Now we discover what happens next."
By late afternoon, Valenor finally appeared.
The city walls rose above the landscape like mountains.
Even from a distance, Ethan could feel the power surrounding it.
Magic.
Not aggressive.
Protective.
The walls were covered in glowing symbols carved into the stone.
Ancient defensive enchantments.
The kind of thing that only existed in endgame areas back on Earth.
Except now...
They were real.
Ethan slowed.
Something about approaching civilization felt more intimidating than fighting demons.
Monsters were simple.
Monsters attacked.
People judged.
"You are nervous."
Ethan looked toward the gates.
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"Because monsters don't ask questions."
Krindrus understood.
"Ah."
A pause.
"You fear social interaction more than combat."
"When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous."
"It is accurate."
"You're supposed to help."
"I am."
"How?"
"I have confirmed your fear is reasonable."
Ethan sighed.
"Thanks."
As he approached the city, the guards noticed him before they saw him.
At first, they only felt it.
A pressure.
A strange presence moving along the road.
The horses pulling nearby wagons became restless.
Several merchants looked around nervously.
One guard standing atop the wall turned.
"Do you feel that?"
The guard beside him frowned.
"Feel what?"
"Something."
He stared down the road.
"The air feels heavier."
Another knight approached.
"What are you looking at?"
The first guard pointed.
"There."
At first, there was nothing.
Only the empty road.
Then...
A figure appeared in the distance.
A tall silhouette.
Silver armor reflecting the sunlight.
A cloak moving behind him.
The guards slowly reached for their weapons.
Not because he had threatened them.
But because everything about him suggested danger.
The first guard swallowed.
"Who is that?"
No one answered.
Because they were all thinking the same thing.
Whatever was approaching Valenor...
It was not ordinary.
The gates opened partially as Ethan approached.
Five knights stood waiting.
Their weapons were not drawn.
But ready.
One stepped forward.
"Traveler."
Ethan stopped.
"Yes?"
"You seek entry into Valenor?"
"Yes."
The knight studied him.
"Then I must request your adventurer identification or knight's pass."
Ethan froze.
Of course.
There would be paperwork.
There was always paperwork.
"I don't have one."
The knights exchanged looks.
"Then you cannot enter."
Ethan thought quickly.
"I am from far away."
"How far?"
"Very."
The knight did not look impressed.
"And your armor?"
Ethan glanced down.
"This?"
"Yes."
Ethan hesitated.
Then decided honesty mixed with a little exaggeration was probably best.
"It is cursed."
Silence.
The knights stared.
"...Cursed?"
"Yes."
One knight whispered:
"That explains the appearance."
Another replied:
"Or it's a lie."
"I am standing right here."
The knight commander rubbed his forehead.
"Explain."
Ethan searched for the simplest explanation.
"The armor cannot be removed."
"Why?"
"Because of the curse."
"Who cursed you?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you from?"
"Far away."
"Where?"
Ethan paused.
"...Very far away."
The guards stared.
Krindrus spoke inside his mind.
"Your explanation lacks detail."
"I noticed."
"It may create suspicion."
"Thanks."
One guard whispered to another.
"He might actually be telling the truth."
"About cursed armor?"
"Would you rather believe someone chooses to dress like that?"
A third knight joined the conversation.
"He's strange."
"Yes."
"Suspicious."
"Yes."
"But..."
The knight looked Ethan over.
"He doesn't feel hostile."
That was apparently enough.
After several minutes of arguing among themselves, the commander finally sighed.
"Fine."
Ethan looked up.
"You may enter."
"Really?"
"Yes."
The knight pointed toward the city.
"But if you are seeking work, information, or official status..."
"You will need to visit the Adventurer's Guild."
"Understood."
The gate opened.
For the first time since arriving...
Ethan entered civilization.
And nobody screamed.
That counted as progress.
-/—/
The first thing Ethan noticed about Valenor was the noise.
Not the kind of noise that came from battle.
Not the roar of monsters or the clash of weapons.
Something far more ordinary.
People.
The city was alive.
Voices echoed through the streets.
Merchants called out their prices.
Children chased each other between buildings.
Blacksmiths hammered away at glowing metal.
Carriages moved through crowded roads while travelers hurried between shops, inns, and guild halls.
For the first time since arriving in this world...
Ethan felt small.
Not physically.
That was impossible now.
Standing over six feet tall, covered completely in alien armor, Ethan was probably one of the most noticeable beings in the entire city.
But emotionally?
He felt like a stranger watching a world continue without him.
"This is strange."
Krindrus responded.
"What is?"
"I expected more chaos."
"Why?"
"Because every city in games is always full of problems."
"That is because players seek conflict."
Ethan looked around.
"Players."
The word felt different now.
He wasn't one anymore.
Not really.
He had spent years entering this world whenever he wanted.
Fight monsters.
Complete quests.
Collect rewards.
Then return home.
But now there was no logout button.
No pause menu.
No way to step away when things became uncomfortable.
"This place doesn't feel like a game."
Krindrus' voice softened.
"It never was."
Ethan stopped walking for a moment.
The words lingered.
The Adventurer's Guild was easy to find.
Mostly because it was impossible to miss.
The building stood three stories tall near the center of the city. Unlike the elegant architecture of the castle district, the guild looked practical.
Large stone walls.
Reinforced wooden doors.
A massive sign hanging above the entrance.
A silver sword crossed with a golden shield.
Ethan entered.
Immediately, the entire room became quiet.
Not completely.
People continued talking.
Drinking.
Laughing.
But the volume lowered.
Eyes turned toward him.
A few adventurers stared openly.
Others whispered.
Ethan had expected this by now.
Still...
It was uncomfortable.
"I feel like a walking attraction."
"You are."
"That wasn't helpful."
"It was truthful."
Ethan walked toward the front desk.
The man standing behind it looked completely different from the rough adventurers surrounding him.
He was dressed in a perfectly pressed black vest over a white shirt, his dark hair neatly combed back. A pair of thin glasses rested on his nose, and his posture was so precise it almost seemed unnatural.
He looked like someone who belonged in a royal office.
Not an adventurer's guild.
When Ethan approached, the man smiled politely.
"Good afternoon."
His voice was calm and professional.
"Welcome to the Valenor Adventurer's Guild."
Ethan nodded.
"Hello."
The man looked him over.
Unlike the guards, he didn't seem afraid.
Only curious.
"How may I assist you?"
"I would like information about becoming an adventurer."
The man's eyebrows raised slightly.
"Very well."
He pulled out a form.
"Before we begin, may I have your name?"
"Ethan Cross."
The man wrote it down.
"Age?"
Ethan hesitated.
A problem.
He knew his Earth age.
But did this body even have the same age?
"I don't know."
The man stopped writing.
"I see."
Another pause.
"Race?"
Another problem.
Human?
Celestari?
Something else entirely?
"I don't know."
The receptionist looked up.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely surprised.
"You do not know your own race?"
"No."
"Interesting."
Instead of suspicion, the man simply wrote something down.
Ethan looked at the paper.
"What did you put?"
"Unknown."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"You aren't concerned?"
The man smiled slightly.
"I have worked at this guild for twelve years."
He adjusted his glasses.
"I have met people born with magical mutations, cursed bloodlines, forgotten noble ancestry, and individuals who discovered they were not entirely human."
He looked at Ethan's armor.
"Compared to that, a man who does not know his own race is surprisingly normal."
Ethan almost laughed.
"That's reassuring."
"Good."
The man continued.
"My name is Alfred."
He placed the paper aside.
"Now, the important matter."
"The Adventurer Selection Exam."
Ethan tilted his head.
"Selection exam?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because the guild does not officially recognize every individual who wishes to become an adventurer."
Alfred explained.
"Adventurers have authority to enter dangerous areas, accept requests, and receive payment for monster extermination, escort missions, and exploration."
"Therefore, the guild requires proof of ability."
"When is the test?"
"In two days."
Ethan looked surprised.
"That soon?"
"Yes."
"The examination occurs once every season."
Alfred folded his hands.
"Those who pass receive official adventurer status."
Ethan considered.
This was actually perfect.
Information.
Resources.
Access to quests.
Exactly what he needed.
"I want to register."
"Very well."
Alfred began filling out additional paperwork.
"I must ask several questions."
"Go ahead."
"Combat experience?"
Ethan looked down.
"A lot."
"Specific?"
He thought about Black Hollow.
The demons.
The orcs.
The battles from the game.
"Enough."
Alfred studied him.
"You are intentionally being vague."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Ethan looked around the guild.
Because explaining that he was from another world and knew their entire history would probably create more problems.
"Because my situation is complicated."
Alfred nodded.
"Fair enough."
"Preferred adventurer class?"
Ethan paused.
Class.
Another thing from the game.
Warrior.
Mage.
Knight.
Ranger.
Support.
The options were almost endless.
But none truly fit.
"Knight."
Alfred wrote it down.
"Specialization?"
Ethan thought.
Magic Knight.
That was what Krindrus had been.
What he was supposed to be.
"Magic Knight."
Alfred paused.
"A rare path."
"So I've heard."
"You are aware?"
"Yes."
Interesting.
The man continued.
"Any additional abilities?"
Ethan looked at his hands.
"Magic."
"Element?"
Ethan hesitated.
"Several."
Alfred stopped.
"Several?"
"Yes."
The receptionist stared.
Then slowly wrote:
Multiple.
Ethan noticed something.
Despite all his unusual answers...
Alfred never mocked him.
Never judged.
He simply recorded.
Professional.
Efficient.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
Ethan thought.
There were probably thousands of things.
Instead:
"No."
Alfred closed the file.
"Then you are officially registered for the upcoming selection examination."
"Thank you."
"One final thing."
Ethan looked up.
"Yes?"
"If you pass..."
Alfred glanced at the silver armor.
"I suspect you will attract considerable attention."
"That already seems to be happening."
"Indeed."
For the first time, Alfred smiled.
"Welcome to Valenor, Mr. Cross."
After leaving the guild, Ethan wandered.
No objective.
No mission.
No urgent battle.
Just exploring.
It felt strange.
He wasn't grinding.
He wasn't farming materials.
He wasn't rushing toward the next story event.
He was simply existing.
The city had everything.
Food stalls.
Book shops.
Magic stores.
Weapon merchants.
Places he had walked past thousands of times in the game without ever caring.
Now they mattered.
He stopped at a small food stand.
The smell alone convinced him.
"How much?"
The merchant looked up.
Then froze.
"Oh."
Ethan sighed.
The reaction again.
The merchant quickly recovered.
"S-Six copper."
Ethan searched his inventory.
Nothing.
Of course.
No game inventory.
No stored gold.
"Problem."
Krindrus responded.
"Your lack of currency was predictable."
"Thanks."
"What is your solution?"
Ethan looked around.
Then remembered.
The orc camp.
The supplies.
He had taken a few coins from the defeated warriors, mostly because he figured money worked similarly.
He pulled them out.
The merchant stared.
"Orc coins?"
"Yes."
"Where did you get these?"
Ethan paused.
"Long story."
The merchant looked nervous.
Then accepted them.
A few moments later, Ethan held a warm meal.
Something simple.
Bread.
Meat.
A small bowl of soup.
And somehow...
It was the best thing he had tasted in years.
Because it wasn't from a screen.
It wasn't pixels.
It was real.
"Ethan."
He turned.
A voice behind him.
A woman stood there.
Silver and red armor.
A crimson cape flowing behind her.
A sword rested at her side.
She looked like a knight straight from a legend.
Her expression was serious.
"You."
Ethan pointed at himself.
"Me?"
"Yes."
She approached.
"You cannot simply walk through the streets wearing that armor."
Ethan blinked.
"I can't?"
"No."
Her eyes narrowed.
"It frightens civilians."
Ethan looked around.
A few people were definitely staring.
"I wasn't trying to."
"Intent does not erase consequence."
She stepped closer.
"You should consider removing it."
Ethan hesitated.
"I can't."
The knight opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Because she finally felt it.
The presence.
The overwhelming weight around him.
The same thing the guards felt.
Her confident expression cracked.
"I..."
She swallowed.
"You're..."
Her words failed.
Ethan looked concerned.
"Are you okay?"
The knight immediately straightened.
"Yes."
A pause.
"I'm fine."
"You were saying?"
She looked at him.
Then at the armor.
Then back at him.
Whatever lecture she had prepared disappeared.
"I was..."
She cleared her throat.
"Never mind."
Ethan tilted his head.
"Okay."
"I apologize."
The knight looked away.
"I judged too quickly."
"It's fine."
The woman looked like she wanted to say something else.
But didn't.
Ethan gave a small nod.
"Have a good day."
Then he walked away.
The knight watched him leave.
Confused.
That evening, Ethan found an inn.
A simple place.
Warm.
Quiet.
Exactly what he needed.
After paying for a room, he entered and locked the door.
For the first time since arriving...
He was alone.
No guards.
No strangers.
No expectations.
Just him.
Ethan looked at the helmet.
"Can I remove you?"
The armor did not answer.
He touched the side.
The silver surface softened.
Like liquid metal.
Slowly...
The helmet melted into his hand.
Ethan stared.
Then slowly looked toward the mirror.
He expected a face.
Any face.
His own.
Krindrus'.
Something.
But there wasn't one.
His body was not human.
The neck opening revealed darkness.
Then movement.
Tendrils.
Dozens of them.
They twisted outward, covered in smooth alien flesh.
Small teeth lined parts of them.
Two long eye stalks extended from the opening, resembling strange snail-like antenna.
Ethan stepped back.
"What..."
The tendrils moved.
Not attacking.
Adjusting.
Searching.
Then they began folding inward.
Coiling.
Changing.
The alien flesh reshaped itself.
Bones shifted.
Skin formed.
Features appeared.
Seconds later...
A face looked back at him.
Handsome.
Young.
Unfamiliar.
Blue skin.
Sharp features.
Two small antenna extending from his forehead.
Ethan stared.
A stranger stared back.
Not human.
Not Krindrus.
Not the character he created.
Something else.
Krindrus was silent.
For the first time...
Completely silent.
Ethan touched his new face.
"That's..."
His voice shook.
"That's me?"
After several seconds, Krindrus finally answered.
Quietly.
"No."
Ethan looked at the reflection.
"Then what am I?"
The ancient warrior had no answer.
And that terrified Ethan more than anything else.
Outside, Valenor continued to sleep.
The city knew nothing about the strange knight who had entered its walls.
They did not know his origin.
His purpose.
Or the secret hidden beneath his armor.
But Ethan Cross was beginning to understand something.
He had not simply entered the world of Heaven Bound Hero's.
He had become something that was never supposed to exist.
And somewhere beyond the stars...
Something had noticed.