~TWO WEEKS LATER~
The lights were too bright.
That was the first thing I noticed as I took my seat across from Rose; the interviewer—how the studio lights burned against my eyes like they were trying to peel something out of me. Cameras hovered. Applause rose on cue. Smiles were rehearsed. Everything was controlled.
Perfect.
"Welcome back, Raken Guerra," she said, voice smooth, practiced. "Two-time participant in He Is Royalty, last year's winner, and now one of the most talked-about names in entertainment."
I nodded once. The crowd clapped again.
They always did.
"Tell us," She continued, leaning forward, "what does fame mean to you now?"
A simple question.
A lie would have been easier.
"Fame," I said slowly, choosing my words like weapons, "is a tool. It amplifies whatever you already are. Good or bad."
A ripple of intrigued murmurs followed.
"And He Is Royalty?" she pressed. "Would you say it changed your life?"
My jaw tightened.
"It exposed it."
That got a reaction. Cameras zoomed in. I could almost hear the headlines forming.
Gabriel's voice murmured calmly in my head.
Answer within approved parameters.
I ignored him, but I knew my limit; this has to go well.
The interview ended cleanly. Too clean. Handshakes. Applause. Flashing lights. I walked off set with the same expression I always wore—unbothered, untouchable.
Inside, something felt… off.
The car ride home was silent.
The city blurred past the tinted windows, neon bleeding into rain-slicked streets. My phone buzzed once. Then again. I didn't look at it.
Gabriel finally spoke.
There has been an incident.
I turned my head slightly. "Define incident."
That's when the notification appeared.
Not flashing.
Not urgent.
Just… wrong.
~Quest Issued
Location: Bridge 7
Time: 21:00
Attendance Required
No reward listed.
No penalty stated.
No classification.
My fingers curled around the phone.
"Cancel it," I said flatly.
I am unable to override this directive.
That made my blood run cold.
"You've overridden quests before."
This one is not marked as special, Gabriel replied. It should be within my control. It is not.
Usually, I don't receive text on my phone from my assistant when I'm alone, It just appear, why is this one different now? I looked up at the darkening sky.
"Then who issued it?"
There was another pause.
Unknown.
I exhaled sharply through my nose. I hope the game depravity hasn't started.
I truly am not ready.
At exactly nine, I stood at the edge of the bridge. I wanted to ignore this maybe it was a slipup in the game. But then months of playing it made me realize nothing is done by mistake. There's a reason behind everything.
Lights from passing cars stretched like broken lines across the water below. The air was heavy, damp with the promise of rain.
The bridge was quieter than I expected. That's when a figure came to view. A male. He stood near the railing.
Not leaning.
Not climbing.
Just… there.
He is a fellow contestant
That alone told me everything. I stopped a few feet away and said, flatly, "You picked the wrong night."
He's shoulders tensed. Slowly, he turned.
"Who are you? Did you follow me"
"Raken, contestant no.49 and no I did not." Raken glanced briefly at his phone, then back up. "I was sent."
That got a reaction—a small, sharp laugh that sounded like it hurt to let out.
"Of course you were."
I don't know why my legs moved on instinct but it did now I'm standing directly in his path my body almost resting on the railing of the bridge. Only then after a few breaths, I allow his sharp delicate features hit me. He is gorgeous but broken. We stood there, the space between us filled with traffic noise and things neither of us wanted to say.
"You're blocking my way," he said.
"I know."
"So, move."
I didn't.
Instead, I said, "If you leave right now, they'll turn it into content."
His jaw clenched. "It won't be that bad, my life already is a content."
"Not like this." my eyes flicked briefly to the far end of the bridge, where someone was pretending not to stare. "This version sticks. This one follows."
Silence.
I felt the system watching. Waiting. Measuring.
"You don't get to talk like you understand," he said quietly.
"I do," I replied. "That's the problem."
The city lights reflected faintly in his eyes—too bright, too close. His blue eyes drained of life but still manages to show so much emotion, his features outlined delicately with a small mix of masculinity. The type you see in a boy that has gone through a lot. His wavy chestnut hair reminded me of something.... Of home.
"You're not here to help me," he spoke breaking the brief silence.
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
I exhaled slowly.
"Because the game doesn't issue empty quests," he said. "And this one doesn't want you gone."
His eyes now fully trained on mine. "You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Another pause.
The wind picked up, cold and damp.
I finally took one step closer—not enough to touch, not enough to trap.
"Do whatever you want," I said evenly. "I don't care, just don't do it while I'm standing in front of you."
He just stood staring at me.
Not grateful.
Not relieved.
Just… stuck.
Minutes passed.
Then he stepped back from the railing. Leaving a gap away from me.
"I'm Oliver, I guess we will see each other often" Oliver said.
Raken nodded. "I know."
Oliver walked away without another word.
The system stayed silent.
And for the first time that night, that scared Raken more than anything else.
My phone buzzed again.
No update.
No instruction.
Just silence.
"Is he here?" I asked quietly.
No confirmed presence, Gabriel said. But this location was selected for a reason.
I stared out over the water, jaw clenched. The figure disappeared and I know tonight, the game brought me here alone. Or another person has to do with this.
Not to save.
Not to stop.
To witness.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed—fading, not approaching.
I understood then.
This wasn't a quest.
It was a warning.
And whatever the game wanted to do to Oliver…
it wasn't finished.
Our paths weren't meant to be crossed. We are just too different. He wants to give up his life
But I already gave up my humanity