The last mission with Mirae wrapped in under an hour. Nothing fancy—clear the mobs, grab the loot, call it a day. The two of us stood in the flickering twilight of Fable's digital field, avatars lit by the dying glow of a quest marker.
"You're logging off already?" Mirae asked, spinning her blade before sheathing it.
"Yeah," I said. "Got work tomorrow. Real life doesn't give exp."
She laughed, sharp and brief. "Fine. I'll farm solo. Don't die on me out there."
I smirked, reached for the menu, and the world folded away.
---
Reality pressed back in—the weight of the headset gone, the ceiling light buzzing faintly above me. My room felt smaller after Fable's expanse. I rubbed my eyes, stood, and grabbed my wallet. Ramen run.
The store was quiet, shelves stripped bare except for a few rows of instant noodles. I bought enough for the week, slid the bag over my wrist, and started back through town square.
That's when the world cracked.
The fountain warped first, water trembling upwards as though gravity had second thoughts. Air twisted, tearing into a jagged wound of yellow light. From it, demons spilled like ants through a broken nest.
The crowd screamed. Children vanished into clawed arms. Phones lifted, lenses flashing.
I dropped the ramen bag.
Flicker shot to my hand in a ripple of black steel. Velnix surged up behind me, wrapping around my shoulders, forming a cloak that hissed like smoke. My breath slowed. My mind narrowed. Battle mode.
The first demon jerked its head toward me, a child struggling in its grasp. I moved before thought caught up—two strides, a cut, its head rolling. The child scrambled away as the body melted into mist.
Gasps. Shouts. Recordings.
Another monster lunged. Cloak caught its claws. Flicker pierced its chest, pinning it to the fountain. Dissolve, gone.
The rift poured more, and I moved with it—shadows and steel, cloak and blade. Velnix absorbed blows, lashed back. Flicker carved clean lines through necks and torsos. Every kill was silent but final, children dropping free to run.
By the time the rift closed on itself with a wet snap, the square was littered with stains of vanishing bodies. Silence fell hard.
I stood at the center, ramen forgotten, cloak fading. Dozens of phones stayed raised, recording me. Not cheering. Just watching.
My phone buzzed.
I answered.
"Kai," Tara's voice came cold through the static. "We need to meet. Now."
Noticing every phone lens was aimed at me, I bent down, grabbed the plastic bag with the ramen still rattling inside, and walked out of the square without saying a word. The crowd parted like I was diseased. Nobody stopped recording.
I went straight home. Dropped the bag on the counter, didn't even unpack it. The phone buzzed again, Tara's name flashing.
By the time I reached her office, night had sunk into the city.
Her office wasn't what you'd expect for a Concord operator. No polished chrome, no sterile white walls. The space was buried in old books, half-open files, a desk lamp casting yellow across stacks of reports. A single holo-screen flickered quietly, muted news feeds scrolling endless text. The air smelled faintly of coffee that had gone cold hours ago.
She didn't look up as I stepped in, just gestured to the chair across from her. When she finally did meet my eyes, it wasn't relief—it was calculation.
"Concord is concerned about you," she said flatly. "They say you cannot be controlled. So they're sending a hit squad on the Old Realm mission. And right now, the whole of Alpha is asking who this lone warrior is."
I blinked, heat tightening behind my eyes. "That just happened. There's no way you heard already."
"Actually," she said, tapping the holo-screen. "That's why I called. I saw a livestream pop up. I watched it. It shows you single-handedly protecting people. That's… difficult to bury. So they'll do it covertly. Make you out as a hero of the Old Realm while ensuring you never come back."
I sat there, jaw tight, Flicker twitching faintly in its sheath at my hip. "Thanks for the warning. So that's… what, a week away?"
She nodded. "One week."
I stood, already turning toward the door. "Then I'd better rest."
Her eyes lingered on me like she wanted to say more, but she didn't.
I went home. The ramen bag still sat on the counter, unopened. I lay down without eating, and sleep pulled me under faster than it should have.