First International Airport - Departure Lounge


    (19:29 Local Time)


    The Phoenix-300''s engines screamed like a wounded dragon as it clawed into the crimson-streaked sky. My reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows fractured as I slammed both palms against the ballistic glass.


    "Sir?" A security drone hovered behind me, its taser prongs crackling. "You''re disrupting—"


    Butterchiek''s plasma blade severed the drone''s sensor array before it finished speaking. "Runway clearance code: Eclipse Protocol," she barked at the scrambling guards. "This aircraft is under corporate quarantine!"


    My neural implant buzzed with Father''s encrypted feed: [Target confirmed - Seat 23B. Neural suppression collar detected. Thermal signature matches Chu Rong.]


    "Too late," I whispered as the jet''s navigation lights dissolved into cloud cover. The taste of copper flooded my mouth – I''d bitten through my lip.


    Butterchiek yanked me behind a luggage scanner as airport security closed in. "Your old man''s scrambling interceptors from Okinawa Base. We just need to—"


    A familiar giggle cut through the chaos.


    Chu Rong''s holographic avatar materialized atop a baggage carousel, her crimson armor glitching through civilian clothes. "Check your six,笨蛋."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The entire terminal''s holographic displays erupted in static. Departure boards flickered to display a single message:


    [DRAGON VALLEY AWAITS - COORD: 35.6895° N, 139.6917° E]


    Butterchiek''s augmented eyes widened. "That''s Tokyo''s geocode. She''s hijacking their navigation systems!"


    Corporate Jet Hangar B-7


    (19:43 Local Time)


    Father''s voice boomed through the stolen VTOL''s speakers as we tore through cloudbanks: "The Phoenix-300''s making an unscheduled descent near Mount Fuji. I''ve disabled its transponder, but Japanese Air Defense is—"


    The cabin lights died.


    Chu Rong''s avatar reappeared in the cockpit, her form warping between terrified student and battle-hardened mage. "They never left Chinese airspace," both versions spoke through the storm static. "The game... it''s been... filtering..."


    Her projection shattered as our collision alarms wailed. Through the thunderheads below, the Phoenix-300 spiraled toward a glowing chasm in the earth – an exact replica of Dragon Valley''s obsidian crater.


    Butterchiek wrestled the controls. "Hold onto your organs, pretty boy! We''re going—"


    The impact tore the world into pixels.


    Ephemeral Glitch Space


    (Timeless)*


    I floated through a void of cascading error messages. Chu Rong''s consciousness swirled around me like sentient stardust, her voice echoing from all directions:


    "You finally understand. The game isn''t entertainment – it''s a sieve. They''ve been testing neural synchronization thresholds..."


    Fragments of her memories assaulted me:


    A childhood bedroom with boarded-up windows


    Corporate contracts signed in her father''s drunken scrawl


    The Japanese "fiancé" whose face kept glitching into a dragon skull


    Her essence condensed before me, tears of liquid code streaming down battle-painted cheeks. "Kill my avatar. Sever the connection before—"


    The Dragon Valley chasm roared to life beneath us, its maw vomiting thousands of crimson-marked player ghosts. At its heart pulsed a colossal server core shaped like the Frostrose Insignia.


    Chu Rong shoved me toward the light. "Wake up! Before we both become—"