The reset wasn't right.
The gates.The crown.The cheers.
They all happened—but they felt… muted.
Like a broken song playing from a damaged record.
---
The crowd clapped in rhythm, but it was softer now.The smiles strained.The king didn't kneel.
He stood stiff, head bent low, frozen mid-motion.
---
And then I saw it.
One figure in the crowd wasn't clapping.Wasn't smiling.Wasn't moving.
Tall. Wrapped in a cloak that rippled like water.Its face hidden in shadow—but pale cracks spread from beneath the hood, glowing faintly like veins of glass.
---
The air turned heavy.
The crowd fell silent.
And then it spoke.
Not with one voice.With many.Layered, hollow, echoing like whispers down a long tunnel.
"You are not meant to be awake."
---
My grip tightened on the sword.My chest burned.
"What… are you?"
The figure tilted its head.The sound of shifting glass filled the square.
"A fracture."
The word echoed inside my skull.
---
It moved.
Not walking.Not running.
One blink, it was across the square.The next blink, it stood in front of me.
Cold air spread from its cloak, frosting the edge of my sword.
"You will return," it said."Or you will remain."
---
I stumbled back, heart hammering.Behind it, I saw more shapes in the crowd.Still cloaked.Still cracked.Still watching.
I felt their eyes on me, even though I couldn't see their faces.
---
"No," I whispered.
I swung my sword with everything I had.
The blade struck the figure's cloak—and shattered.
Glass shards scattered across the stone.The weapon that had cut through goblins like paper broke like it was nothing.
The figure leaned closer.And in that layered, breaking voice, it whispered:
"You cannot cut glass with glass."
---
The world flickered.
The gates.The crown.The cheers.
The reset.
---
But I couldn't breathe right.Couldn't steady my hands.
Because now I knew.
The world wasn't just scripted.It was being… watched.