The mist was thicker that night.
Majiku could barely see his own hands as they moved through the haze. The air was cold, humming with static, like the whole world was holding its breath. Beside him, Kael's armor glinted faintly under the silver light. Mira followed close, her bow drawn, eyes narrowed. Ryn walked ahead, knives drawn — his laughter unusually quiet.
They were near the edge of the Fractured Plains now — where The Cult of Immortality was said to gather. The place where whispers became real.
Majiku could feel it — that strange pulsing presence in his heart. Like something inside him was calling to the mist… and the mist was calling back.
The Cult Appears
At first, they looked like shadows — indistinct, formless, slipping between the fog like ghosts. But as they drew closer, the figures solidified.
Hooded beings stood in a circle around a burning sigil of data. Their faces were hidden, but the glow under their hoods wasn't fire — it was light. Human eyes. Hundreds of them.
Kael drew his blade. "Stay behind me."
But Majiku couldn't move. His legs felt like they were sinking into the ground. The whispers started again.
"We are you… We remember…"
Majiku grabbed his head, trembling. "Stop! Stop it!"
Mira shouted his name, but it was too late. The circle of cultists turned — and all at once, the world exploded into noise.
The ground cracked open. Data poured upward like a storm. Screams twisted into digital echoes. Ryn charged first, his daggers slicing through code that burst like shattered glass. Mira fired arrow after arrow, her eyes wet with terror. Kael fought with brutal precision — each swing like a desperate prayer.
Majiku just stood there — shaking — watching as the figures fell and dissolved into white mist. Every time one died, he could hear their voices, soft and familiar.
"It's okay now…""Thank you…""We wanted to be seen…"
He wanted to scream. He wanted to wake up. But all he could do was cry.
After the Battle
When it was finally over, silence fell.
The battlefield glowed faintly — fragments of code drifting through the air like ashes. The Cult was gone, but the silence that followed felt worse than the screams. The Misty Four stood in a broken circle, panting, staring at the void where the Cult had stood.
Majiku fell to his knees. "They weren't monsters," he whispered. Ryn wiped his mouth, shaking. "They attacked us. What were we supposed to do?!" "They were people," Majiku said again, voice breaking. "They were people."
Mira dropped her bow, tears rolling down her face. "Why would people choose to stay like that?"
Kael didn't answer. He just stared at the ground, his hands trembling around his sword hilt.
Majiku stood, trembling with anger. "You all act like this is normal! Like killing them fixed anything!" Ryn snapped, "Don't start—" "No!" Majiku shouted. "They're us! Don't you feel it? Every time we fight them, it's like… losing something we don't even remember in a way where it reminds us of it, and helps us remember those bad memories more clearly!"
The silence was sharp.
Then Kael spoke quietly, almost too softly. "That's enough, Majiku."
"Why do you always say that?!" Majiku yelled. "You're always calm, always strong, like you don't feel anything! Don't you care? Don't you want to know why we're here?"
Kael's expression darkened. "Not now." Majiku's voice broke. "When it's too late? When there's nothing left but this stupid mist?!"
Ryn stood up suddenly, kicking a piece of rubble. "I can't do this right now." "Ryn—" Mira tried to stop him, but he was already gone, disappearing into the fog. Mira followed, whispering, "Majiku, please… stop." Her voice had shook with sadness as she vanished after him into the hazy misty fog.
Now, only Majiku and Kael remained.
Majiku glared at him, eyes burning with tears. "You're just like them, aren't you? Hiding. Pretending you don't remember your real life because it hurts too much!"
Kael didn't speak.
Majiku took a step forward. "What are you even running from, Kael? What are you so afraid to feel?"
And for the first time since he'd met him, Kael raised his voice.
"You wouldn't understand!"
The words echoed through the mist — raw, trembling, broken. Majiku froze. Kael turned away, shoulders shaking, his sword falling to the dirt.
"Go," Kael said quietly. "Before I say something I regret."
Majiku didn't move.
"Go," Kael repeated, his voice breaking.
Majiku turned and walked away — slowly at first, then faster — until he couldn't see Kael anymore. He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the plains, where the ground turned soft with fog. There, under the dim glow of the digital moon, he sank down.
And for the first time, a tear slid down his cheek — digital, glowing faintly, shimmering like a tiny star as it fell and vanished into the mist.
Reality Hurts
When he logged out, the real world hit like a hammer.
He ripped off the headset, gasping. His room was dark, his hands still shaking. From downstairs, he heard shouting — his parents again. Plates breaking. His name yelled angrily through the walls.
He wiped his face and stood, ready for the chaos.
But when he looked in the mirror — he froze.
There, on his cheek, was a tear.
Not just wetness — an actual tear, glimmering faintly in the low light. The same cheek. The same side as in Eien.
He touched it, trembling.
"How…?"
The shouting downstairs grew louder. He turned off the lights, crawled into bed, and pulled the blanket over his head. His heart raced, but exhaustion took over, and eventually he drifted into uneasy sleep — his mind still half in the mist.
The Next Day
He couldn't focus in school. He couldn't eat. Every sound felt distant, like the world was muffled by fog again.
When he got home, he didn't even take off his shoes before putting the headset back on.
The Lonely Camp
Eien booted up slower this time. The mist swirled gently, quiet and cold. The campfire was burning low.
Kael was there.
He stood by the fire, alone, staring into it. His armor was gone — replaced by a simple black shirt and cloak. When he heard the soft crunch of Majiku's steps, he turned.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Finally, Kael said, "You... came back."
Majiku hesitated. "So, did you."
Kael smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I didn't think you would."
Majiku swallowed hard. "I couldn't just… leave it like that."
Kael nodded slowly. "I'm glad."
They stood there, silence stretching, the mist whispering around them. Then Kael sat down by the fire and gestured for Majiku to do the same.
"Majiku," he said quietly. "You asked me what I was running from. I think it's time I tell you."
Kael's Past
Kael looked into the fire. His voice was calm, but there was a tremor underneath it — like a string pulled too tight.
"I used to be someone else. Not Kael. My name was Kael Hujimara. I was a violinist. A prodigy, they said. I didn't feel like one."
Majiku listened, wide-eyed.
"My great-grandfather was the only one who believed in me. He used to sit by the piano and listen for hours. He'd hum while I played. And then… he died. Suddenly. I stopped playing. Couldn't even look at the violin either, which was also the best I was able to do, with music entirely. My mother said I was wasting my gift. My father stopped talking to me because of job problems."
Kael's hands trembled. "So I shut everyone out. Even my friends. Then I met someone — Masuko. She was wild, loud, and loved everything about music. We made songs together. She played guitar, drums, piano. She reminded me how to breathe."
He smiled faintly. "We got married. We loved are adopted son. My son. He was the brightest thing in my world. He'd laugh whenever I played. Said he wanted to make songs with me someday."
Majiku's stomach tightened.
"But life doesn't care about dreams," Kael said softly. "They died. Masuko and our son. A car crash. After that, everything went dark again."
He paused, his eyes glinting with tears. "I couldn't live in that house anymore. So I remarried. Tried to start over. She was kind at first… but when we lost our money — she turned cold. Said I was just a human clinging to ghosts."
He looked at Majiku then, eyes glassy and trembling.
"We loved are family of 3. I Gave him my heart. My hope. His name was…"
His voice broke.
"Majiku."
The world seemed to freeze.
Majiku stared, his breath caught in his throat. "What…?"
Kael closed his eyes. "Now I realize, you. You were my son."
Majiku shook his head. "No, that's… that can't—"
"You took your mother's last name," Kael continued, voice raw. "Tatiru. You used to draw in the corner of my studio while I played. You'd smile whenever I hit the wrong note and say, 'It's okay, Papa. Music doesn't have to be perfect."
Majiku's heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.
"I lost you too to despair to," Kael whispered. "After my mind left from all the bad things into state of pain. I couldn't find you within my life anymore and so began to shut my emotions away from you and my wife entirely. I searched for years, but I was too broken to find peace. Too poor. Too… afraid. I thought I'd never see you again in a way where we could express to one another again."
Majiku covered his mouth, sobbing softly. "That's… that's not possible…"
Kael reached out, tears streaming freely now. "Eien gave me a second chance. I didn't know it was you at first. I just knew I wanted to protect you. That's why I couldn't tell you. Why I couldn't let myself hope."
Majiku shook his head violently, but tears blurred his vision. "You're lying…"
Kael's voice broke. "Then why do we both have the same scar — the one on our cheek from when you fell off your bike at six, while I was riding with you on that double bike, that you now cover with a bandage in both here and the real world?"
Majiku froze. Slowly, trembling, he touched his cheek.
The scar was there.
Even here. Even in the game.
He fell into Kael's arms, sobbing, shaking, broken. "Papa…"
Kael held him tight, crying too. The mist around them pulsed with light — soft, golden, alive. The digital world felt warmer than reality had in years.
"I'm sorry," Kael whispered into his hair. "I should've found you sooner."
Majiku clutched at him. "I missed the old you, so much."
The Mist Softens
They sat like that for a long time — father and son, lost and found in the space between worlds.
Finally, Kael said, voice gentle, "This world isn't evil, Majiku. It's built from our pain, yes… but maybe it's trying to help us face it. Like it was made for people like us. I also notice others here, mostly play it, because of that anyways."
Majiku looked up through tears. "Then maybe we can fix it together."
Kael smiled, faintly but real. "Yeah. Together."
The fire burned brighter, and for the first time, the mist didn't feel suffocating. It felt like an embrace.
End of Episode 4 — "When the Mist Cracks."