POV: Nara
The paper felt wrong in her hands. It wasn't fragile or worn out , and that felt like a problem.
It should have been, after five hundred years. It should have cracked at the edges, faded into something barely readable.
It hadn't.
The surface was smooth, the ink dark, as if it had been written yesterday and then hidden away from time itself.
Nara stared at it for a long moment before continuing.
The fire crackled softly beside her, low and controlled. Rhen had set it carefully, just enough light to see, not enough to draw attention. The others had settled into their positions without needing instruction. Stone stood behind her, silent and unmoving. The wolf had curled up nearby, resting in that strange half-state undead creatures used instead of sleep.
Pip sat close to her leg, still for once.
Watching.
Nara lowered her eyes to the letter again.
If you are reading this, then you found the bag and the bag did not fight you. That means the bag knows what you are even if you do not.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
The words were calm. Certain. Written by someone who had expected this moment to happen.
Not hoped but expected. Nara exhaled slowly and continued reading.
This bag is not yours. It has never belonged to anyone. It passes. It waits. It records. It decides.
For five hundred years, it has been carried by Travellers who never understood what it was holding. That is by design. The seal placed on this letter is simple: it will only reveal itself to a user the System recognises as [ENVY CLASSIFICATION].
A faint flicker passed behind Nara's eyes.
[Hidden Condition Acknowledged]
[Classification: ENVY — Confirmed]
The panel disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Nara didn't react.
Her gaze stayed on the page. So the bag had been waiting. Not for someone strong or for someone skilled, It was more like customized for- For her.
The thought didn't feel surprising. It felt… confirmed.
She continued.
If you can read this, then you are what I was.
That is unfortunate for you.
Nara's expression didn't change, but something in her chest tightened slightly.
The fire shifted, sending a brief flicker of light across the page.
She kept reading.
There are six of them.
The words were written darker than the rest, pressed deeper into the paper.
They will come for you.y.
Nara's mind moved quickly, turning the statement over, testing it, measuring it against everything she already knew.
Six.
Not one enemy.
Not a system threat.
Six individuals.
And whoever wrote this had not doubted it for a second.
Nara read on.
You will not understand what you are yet. That is also by design. They prefer it that way.
You are easier to manage when you do not know what you are capable of.
Her grip on the letter tightened slightly.
That part felt… familiar her fingers tightened around the paper.
She had lived that truth without needing it explained.
The letter shifted slightly in her hands as she turned to the next section.
There is something you need to find before they do.
Now the instructions began. they were very clear.
The tunnel under the farm. That is the only safe place left for it.
Do not trust anything above ground. Do not trust anything that welcomes you easily.
The tunnel.
Nara's eyes sharpened.
She remembered it.
Not clearly.
Not in full.
But the shape of it was there, buried somewhere under everything else that had been taken from her.
Zone 0, The farm. The place she had come from. Or been placed in.
She continued.
When you find it, do not use it immediately.
And do not, under any circumstances, light the tower.
Nara paused. That was the first instruction that didn't connect to anything she knew.
The tower. She didn't recognize it. Not consciously. Still, she kept reading.
Not until you decide what Envy means to you.
Not what they tell you it is. Not what the System encourages you to become.
Yours.
The word stood alone on the line.
Yours.
Nara's gaze lingered on it for a second longer than the others.
Then she moved to the final part. The handwriting shifted slightly.
Not messy.
Just… heavier.
I was Envy before you.
Silence settled deeper around her.
Even the forest seemed to quiet.
I did not survive them.
No hesitation. No attempt to soften it. Just fact.
Nara's breathing remained steady, but something inside her went very still.
I hope you are harder to kill than I was.
A faint crease formed at the edge of the paper where her fingers pressed. Then—
The last line.
I suspect you are. You always were.
Nara stopped reading.
The fire crackled again, a sharp sound that felt louder than it should have.
For a long time, she didn't move.
The letter remained open in her hands, her eyes fixed on the final words, her mind running through them again and again, testing them for meaning, for error, for anything that didn't fit.
There was nothing. It all fit too well.
Someone had known. Not guessed.
Known. About her and what she will become and nothing that had happened to her so far was just a mere coincidence.
Five hundred years before she had even existed.
Pip shifted slightly beside her, pressing closer without making a sound.
Stone didn't move.
Across the fire, Rhen watched her.
He didn't speak. He didn't ask.
But he understood enough to stay quiet. Nara slowly folded the letter.
Carefully and neatly, As if it mattered that it remained intact.
As if damaging it would change what it said. She slipped it into her pocket.
Above them, a branch shifted slightly.
Varyn's voice came down, quiet but clear. "What did it say?"
Nara didn't look up. "That I have to go back," she said.
A pause. "Go back where?" Varyn asked.
Nara's gaze lifted slightly, not to him, but past him. Farther than the trees.
Farther than Zone 4.
"Zone 0." The words settled heavily in the space between them.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Rhen's voice came, low and careful. "Why?"
Nara's hand rested lightly over the pocket where the letter sat.
Her answer came without hesitation.
"Because whatever I am was buried there," she said. "And they buried it there because they thought I'd never be able to get back to it."
Silence followed.
Then—
"They were wrong."