Arin's eyes stayed fixed on the silver-haired girl. She didn't move, didn't blink, yet she seemed alive—too alive to be just another NPC stuck in loops.
"You… said I don't belong here," Arin said cautiously. "Then… who are you?"
The girl's gaze didn't waver. "I'm… not like the others. And neither are you."
Arin frowned. "What does that even mean?"
"I can see the glitches," she said softly, her voice almost blending with the hum of the corrupted village. "I know when the world resets… when it breaks. And you…" She tilted her head, studying him. "…you aren't supposed to be here either."
Arin swallowed, heart racing. "So, you're saying… this place is alive?"
"Alive," she whispered. "And angry. But it's also… curious. About you."
He glanced at the villagers repeating their lines, the walls flickering, the air buzzing with static. Everything felt fragile, yet controlled by something. A system. A mind. Maybe… Lira wasn't just an NPC.
He tried testing his Bug Exploit again, willing the world to pause—but nothing happened. Panic crept in. "I only get it when I'm about to die…"
She smiled faintly, enigmatic. "It's not a weapon. Not yet. It's a tool. You'll understand… in time. But first, you need to survive here."
Arin nodded slowly. "Right. Survive… easy to say when everything around you is broken."
The girl stood, stepping down from the fountain. "Come. I'll show you a place to rest. You'll need your strength."
As they moved through the glitching streets, Arin's mind raced. Every flickering house, every looping villager was proof of the world's instability—and a warning that his exploits might be his only chance.
And now, for the first time, someone was guiding him.