《Game of Reflections》


 Volume 1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

    The forest was oppressively silent. Space itself seemed to shrink, trapping Scarlet in a trap where every breath was soaked with a premonition of trouble. The air pressed down on her shoulders, as if invisible hands were trying to squeeze her into the ground. The shotgun, usually so familiar and reliable, seemed heavy, as if it was turning into a useless piece of iron.


    Her eyes searched the gloomy silhouettes of the trees, looking for movement, but they only encountered darkness.


    "Where are you?" She whispered to herself, barely able to contain the tremor in her voice.


    Her words faded into silence. Only a faint rustle behind her made her turn around sharply. She froze, feeling a cold fear rising inside her.


    And the silence broke.


    The flash of light was blinding, and the roar of the explosion drove pain into my ears. The ground shook, knocking her off balance. Scarlet collapsed to one knee, managing to shield herself from the deafening heat. When she raised her head, the world around her looked different. Alienated.


    A figure emerged from the thick smoke. She was tall, unnaturally elongated, with skin as shiny as polished metal, dyed an ominous shade of blue. The creature''s eyes glowed with a scarlet light devoid of any warmth. In his hands he clutched two blades, thin and flexible, like the fangs of an animal ready to devour its prey.


    ¡ª Come on, bitch! Scarlet shouted, her voice rising to a rasp. She tried to cover her fear with anger, but her heart was already racing in her chest, making the blood pound in her temples.


    The creature moved forward silently. His movements were swift, like those of a predator that knows no doubt or fear. With each step, the distance between them shrank, turning the seconds into a painful eternity.


    Scarlet cursed, tightened her grip on the weapon, and, almost on reflex, pulled the trigger. The roar of a gunshot cut through the night. The bullet tore through space, heading straight for the creature.


    But it didn''t slow down. Not for a moment. Instead, the smile¡ªsinister, stretched to the limit of human anatomy¡ªbecame wider.


    Something inside her snapped.


    ¡ªAhorna! It burst out of her throat as realization came with belated clarity: there was no more time.


    A golden glow flashed around her, outlining the fragile dome of the magical barrier. At the same moment, the demoness attacked him with fury. The impact was devastating. The ground shook, cracks spread across the rocks, and the smell of ozone hung in the air. The barrier held, but cracks on its surface began to creep, as if the magic itself was not strong enough to withstand the pressure of the creature.


    The creature did not retreat. Her claws slid across the protective shell with a hideous screech, making Scarlet flinch at every sound.


    ¡ªHold on, I''m right here," came a voice in her earpiece, steady but tinged with tension.


    "Hurry up!" She blurted out, trying not to scream.


    The barrier suddenly disappeared. No warning, no chance. Scarlet barely managed to push off and roll to the side, avoiding the deadly blow. The creature''s blades sank into the ground where it had been just a moment ago.


    She raised the shotgun and fired. The roar of gunfire echoed through the forest, causing the birds to leap into the sky in fear. The bullet slammed into the creature''s chest, knocking it back a step. But it wasn''t enough. It straightened up, and the creature''s eyes burned through the space around it with a scarlet light.


    A whistle sounded behind him, barely perceptible, almost musical. Scarlet didn''t have time to turn around, as the demoness froze, and then, like a doll with cut strings, collapsed to the ground.


    Scarlet turned around, breathing heavily. A man in a dark mask came out of the shadows of the trees, with the nickname "Sato" displayed above his head. His step was unhurried, even lazy. Drops of thick, pitch-black blood glistened on the dagger in his hand.


    "I''m late," she breathed, brushing a lock of hair from her face, stuck to her sweaty forehead. ¡ª What, you decided to give me some action?


    Sato narrowed his eyes, his lips stretched into a grin.


    ¡ªYou know I love watching you get away with it."


    His voice was light, almost mocking, but there was something warm in his eyes.


    Scarlet took a step closer to him, feeling the tension finally release. She gently touched his shoulder, took off his mask, the warmth of his presence replaced the fear.


    "Tell me next time," she said softly, her voice like the rustle of leaves.


    Sato leaned in, his grin widening.


    "Don''t get into trouble next time. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips met. The kiss was brief, but filled with silent understanding.


    The silence was broken by a voice on the speakers:


    ¡ªHey, lovebirds! If you''re done with the melodrama, we have a lord here!


    Sato grinned, releasing her.


    "It''s time to work,¡ª he said, sheathing his dagger.


    Scarlet snorted, checking her weapon.


    "With a guy like you, I can forget we''re even on a mission."


    Sato just grunted, stepping forward as if he hadn''t heard her words. But the expression on his face¡ªa barely perceptible smile¡ªsaid that he had heard everything.


    Sato looked back, his face lit up with a slight, almost lazy smile. He made a short gesture with his hand, waving away someone''s sarcastic comments that sounded on the speakers again.


    "Shall we go?"


    Scarlet squinted as she adjusted the weapon strap on her shoulder.


    "Only if you cover for me again."


    He grinned again, casually taking out his daggers. The blades, covered in dark blood, glinted in the light of the magic barrier that was trembling in the distance. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Do you doubt it?"


    Her lips twitched in an answering grin, but she didn''t say anything. Instead, she pulled out the jammed shell casing, deciding that his overconfidence was even appropriate right now.


    The battle began in the clearing.


    The magic barrier of the allied tank engulfed the enemy group, trapping them inside like a fish in a net. Sato moved between the enemies with terrifying speed, his daggers flashing like lightning, striking accurately and deadly. Each of his strokes was a dance, perfectly timed and cold, without a single unnecessary movement.


    ¡ª On the left! The sniper! Scarlet shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of the battle. She fired, the weapon rattled, sending the enemy into the dust.


    ¡ª I saw it, thanks! ¡ª he replied, rolling to the side. His movements were smooth like a beast''s, and his eyes were cold and focused.


    The sound of the dull click of the discharged gun made her heart clench for a moment.


    ¡ªDamn it, cover me!" "Stop it!" she screamed, frantically inserting new cartridges.


    Sato didn''t even turn around. His hand shot out, and the dagger flew through the air, turning into a silver comet. The blade hit the target with a precision worthy of legend.


    "You have three seconds!" He called over his shoulder, his voice calm, as if he didn''t have a single doubt about what was happening.


    As the enemies began to retreat, defeated and tormented, Sato turned to her and nodded.


    ¡ª Well, now we''ll definitely have time to demolish the throne? Scarlet gasped, getting to her feet. Her shoulders were almost shaking from the strain, and the sawed-off shotgun felt heavy, as if it weighed a ton.


    Sato bent down, pulling daggers from the bodies of the enemies. On their surfaces, thick, dark blood seemed to have a life of its own, casting an ominous crimson light.


    "If you don''t pull another trick, then yes,¡ª he said confidently, his voice sounding mocking, but his gaze remained serious.


    "I''ll try,¡ª Scarlet muttered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She slowly wiped the sweat from her forehead, feeling the viscous adrenaline still pumping through her veins, as if her body refused to accept that the danger was over.


    His fingers tightened on the rifle. The muscles, hardened by countless battles, were still doing their job despite trembling. She straightened up, shouldered the shotgun, and surveyed the battlefield.


    Sato was looking at her, his gaze calm, but there was something in the depths of his scarlet eyes that Scarlet couldn''t make out.


    ¡ªLet''s go," he said softly, nodding towards the forest, where the remaining enemy forces had retreated. ¡ª There is still a lot of work ahead.


    Scarlet nodded. The fatigue was killing, but there was no way back.


    The Sito-Alpha team didn''t give the enemies a chance. There was confidence in their every move, and a certain calmness, but not the euphoria of an imminent victory. It was an advantage that left a bitterness. The enemies died, but all hope went with them, not just afraid of losing, they went to their deaths to take everything they could with them, weakening the forces of the Sito Alpha. This wasn''t an ordinary battle¡ªit was a last act of desperation, met with a firmness that made one''s veins freeze.


    On the horizon, as if from the darkness itself, the Lord materialized. His silhouette, majestic and terrifying, cut through the evening mist. This centaur-like creature had a terrifying appearance. His torso was covered with black, as if charred skin, which shimmered with ominous red reflections resembling red-hot metal. In place of the face was a gaping skull, from the sockets of which a pulsating bloody glow emanated.


    His massive hands gripped a giant axe, the blade of which seemed too big even for such a monster. Runes were engraved on its shaft, which glowed with a dark red light, emitting waves of sinister energy. Each of his movements was accompanied by a low hum that seemed to press on the ears of those who were nearby. The Lord wasn''t just an ally, he was the personification of fear and death. His heavy footsteps echoed across the map like the sound of a bell announcing the beginning of the end. The allied creeps marched behind, blinding beams from their enhanced attacks slicing through the twilight. Scarlet glanced at this approaching monster, but even it inspired her with less horror than the prospect of making a wrong move.


    12 thousand gold. The numbers sparkled like sparks in a dark forest, but Scarlet couldn''t focus on them. They didn''t matter. Gold is just numbers. It was just a tool, and the main thing right now was not in it. Right now, everything depended on how they played, how they chose the moment to attack.


    "Is everyone ready?" This is our moment, don''t screw it up," Sato''s voice cut through the silence, becoming something completely ordinary and tense at the same time. His voice was cold, but there was no doubt in it. He was as determined as a slashing blade, ready to slice through the very air, tearing apart everything in his path.


    Scarlet nodded, even though Sato couldn''t see her. She knew that this was not the moment to hesitate. They were on the verge, and every moment could be decisive. The unknown is at the other end of the map, one mistake ¡ª and this whole army will collapse into the void.


    Her hand tightened on the weapon, her fingers turned white, but she did not allow herself to weaken. Even if a hurricane of emotions was raging inside, even if her thoughts were trying to go into a panic run, she knew one thing: "I will not let you down." It was her only salvation¡ªher strength, her determination to be someone who never gives up.


    ¡ªAll right, let''s go," she said softly to herself, forcing her steps to be resolute, despite all the weight that pressed on her chest.


    And so, the attack began. She felt the world around her becoming more tense with every move she made. Screams, gunshots, magic spells¡ªeverything was mixed into one tyranny of sounds. But the attention was focused only on the Lord. He wasn''t just an ally. He was the conclusion of the whole tournament, the decision that could change everything. This moment was not for hesitation.


    No matter how hard it was, no matter how her soul screamed from the imminent victory, Scarlet knew that she needed to be strong now. That''s the only way they can win.


    The first shot shook the air, its sound was so loud that it seemed as if the forest itself was silent, as if listening to this gap. The Allied tanks charged, their armor and weapons merging into a single force, bringing victory closer with each move. The enemies tried to escape from the trap, but they did not have time ¡ª the magician, who was the last hope for their team, disappeared as if he had never existed.


    There was another crash as Scarlet clutched the shotgun. Her fingers were working automatically, reloading the weapon, but her mind was already far away from the battle. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. She didn''t even notice how everything around her disappeared in a burst of light, as the allies, coordinated as a clock, carried their victory.


    The enemy''s tower collapsed under their blows, like a fragile sand castle rushing into disorder. And so, the word they were all waiting for appeared on the screen. "VICTORY." It flickered and then slowly filled the screen, like a wall crashing down on their consciousness. But for Scarlet, this word was not as vivid and exciting as expected. She was standing in the middle of ruins, the remnants of a destroyed virtual reality. He held a useless weapon in his hands, which now seemed as heavy as a stone.


    Beads of sweat slowly dripped from her fingers, but despite her fatigue, there was an almost empty silence. Scarlet exhaled, her eyes closed, and she finally allowed herself to relax a little.


    ¡ªGood job,¡ª Sato said, his voice no longer the same cold commanding tone, but somehow more human, with a hint of warmth. Something she hadn''t expected. It was more than just a confession.


    She smiled slowly. The moment when all the weight of the fight was gone, and her body finally felt that it was possible to leave the tension behind. But her mind was still ready for a new challenge, for the next opponent that would surely appear. The training does not end with one victory. But now... She allowed herself to enjoy it now. The moment was too short to spend it thinking.


    Sato stood in front of her, his avatar shining like the epitome of an ideal against the backdrop of virtual ruins. Every detail of his appearance was thought out to the smallest detail: light, like air armor, a dark cloak reflecting the light of the moon, and a Kevlar mask hiding his face, giving him even more mystery. This image was not just a force, but also a symbol, a reminder that he was a master capable of winning, invisible and elusive like the wind itself.


    "You did well. You were great, my lady," his words were full of respect, sincerity, something that was rare for a man who always kept his distance. He was the leader, her commander, and now, after the victory, his words seemed even more important than any of the successes achieved.


    She nodded silently, but her heart nevertheless sang joyfully, realizing that this was not just a victory in the tournament. It was more than that. Every difficulty, every moment of doubt, all those fears and insecurities that had plagued her for the past few hours were now gone, dissolved in this blinding moment.


    The golden letters that announced them as the winners of the tournament flashed on the screen, and this moment carried her into a state of almost meditative calm. The winners. There was everything in this victory: hard work, sweat, pain, but also incredible joy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself to sink into silence for a moment. No more fighting, no more threats. Just a moment she deserved.


    ? Marukuro Rafaello, 2024. All rights reserved.

 Volume 1. Chapter 2. Virsal

    ¡ª Well, champion, shall we rest? Sato''s voice was soft, almost a whisper. He no longer had the usual confidence of a leader who controls everything. It was the voice of someone who was tired, just like her, but also someone who knew that victory was not just a result, but something much more valuable.


    Scarlet grinned at him. Her virtual face, although it could not display her entire inner smile, nevertheless expressed a slight fatigue hidden under the surface.


    "Rest?" Since when is this on your schedule? Her tone was playful, almost amused, but Sato remained silent. His figure remained motionless, there was something in his gaze. He wasn''t just standing there, he was thinking about something important.


    He took off his mask. With this gesture, he showed her not just his face, but also his vulnerability, like never before. His gaze became sincere, and his voice, when he spoke, was filled with unexpected gentleness.


    "Seriously, you deserve a break." We deserve everything. But you... You weren''t just good in this match. You were exceptional. We wouldn''t have won without you.


    Her heart skipped a beat when those words reached her. All the tension she had been holding in melted away, and she felt warmth spreading in her chest. It wasn''t just a confession, it was something much more.


    Sato''s words were still ringing in her head, but now there was a slight, barely noticeable irony in their sound, as if they had returned to normal after those tense minutes. Scarlet felt her heart calm down. Everything seemed to be back in place, but it was enough. She was herself again.


    ¡ªThank you, Sato,¡ª she repeated, her voice softening. Scarlet looked at her weapon, dimming in the light of the screen. The character couldn''t have been more alive, but she knew it was just an image that hid her own feelings. Experiences that were real. "You were incredible too." As always.


    The silence became something deeper and clearer. The battle music was no longer playing in her ears, and the messages on the screen, as in previous moments, became the background. Congratulations, statistics, advertising¡ªit all seemed unimportant now. Why would they do that if they just won, if they just went through this hell fighting to the last?


    At this moment, when time seemed to have stopped, a familiar voice rang out.


    ¡ª Hey, aren''t you stuck in a romantic scene there? ¡ª the allied tank laughed, not hesitating to joke even through the microphone filters.


    "Leave them to Kujime, these two deserve a rest," the magician''s voice sounded, and despite his usual detachment, a new relaxation appeared in it.


    Sato smiled when he heard them. A smile that did not glide over his appearance, but permeated his inner feeling of lightness.


    ¡ªOkay, okay. Scarlet, assemble a group. We have another task.


    She raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of playfulness in her voice. Maybe it was a trace of tension that finally gave way to relaxation.


    ¡ª Celebrate, of course. The best in Versailles shouldn''t be sitting around, right? Sato said these words with such ease that even her tired body felt a rush of light joy.


    Scarlet laughed, and it was like a breath of fresh air. After all those hard minutes of battle, adrenaline, and concentration, that laugh was a release, a reminder that there would always be another moment of joy ahead to take the weight off your shoulders.


    A gift came to the inventory - a trophy, a cup that shone against the background of their avatars, seemed to be a real symbol of their work. She knew that Sato was taking it all seriously, perhaps even too seriously. For him, Wirsal was more than just a game. It was a battlefield capable of giving meaning that was lacking in real life.


    ¡ª Do you think we can stay at the top? "What is it?" she asked, adjusting her gear. Her voice sounded calm, but there was concern in her gaze.


    "Not just to hold on,¡ª Sato replied confidently, turning to her. His avatar, with light reflections of golden light, looked almost like the ideal hero. ¡ª We will make sure that we will not be forgotten.


    "It almost sounds like a threat," Scarlet smiled, adjusting her armor.


    "Not a threat,¡ª he paused, his voice softening, "a promise."


    Their allies, slowly retreating, distributed short congratulations and laughed, discussing their next steps. But Sato and Scarlet were delayed.


    ¡ª We did it again, for the 7th time, right? She said softly, her gaze lingering on the goblet.


    ¡ª 8 times, honey, you don''t think that''s all, do you? Sato corrected, his voice unusually warm.


    "What do you mean?" Scarlet frowned, her avatar turning slightly, reflecting her wariness.


    "All these cups are great, but," he replied simply, clutching the dagger in his hands, as if he still had to defend himself in the safe zone. ¡ª I want a seasonal title for us, for both of us.


    Scarlet felt her cheeks start to burn, which was noticed by the observant Sato.


    ¡ª Do you realize how difficult this is? This is everyone''s cherished dream, it is unlikely that we will make it far there," she tried to wave it off, but her voice trembled treacherously, "But I will try my best. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Sato smiled, his true identity peeking through the mask of an impeccable leader for a second.


    "If that''s what you think, then we''re perfect for each other." You work for victory, and I make it a reality.


    At this point, virtual reality really stopped being just a game.


    Wirsal, developed in 2056, was not just a virtual reality ¡ª it was a living, breathing world that combined artistic beauty and mathematical precision. Here, each player became a part of something more than just battles or quests. It was a game for those who were looking for a challenge, eager to prove that their skills surpass any systems, algorithms or rules.


    The system of freedom of choice has become the main principle of the game. No one could hide behind money or exploit the weaknesses of mechanics. There were no shortcuts here. If you want to become strong, train. If you want to win, think. If you want to be a legend, take a chance.


    Each element was imbued with the deep philosophy of the creator. The brilliant scientist, developer, and billionaire Satoru Marucho, who was behind the birth of this miracle, once said:


    "The game should be a challenge, not an entertainment. If you''re not ready to challenge yourself, you''re not worthy of her beauty."


    The whole of Versailles was built under this philosophy. There was no easy way to win here. Every decision a player made, from choosing a build to interacting with others, influenced their path. Mistakes were punished immediately, but they also provided valuable lessons.


    The world of the game lived its own life. Day turned to night, the seasons flowed smoothly into one another, and the players felt as if they really were in another dimension. Even the NPCs seemed alive: their reactions to the actions of the players changed, they could be disappointed, angry or delighted, turning each quest into a unique story.


    Balance and fairness.


    It was these two words that defined the heart of the game. There was no imba in Beersheba. Even the strongest player could be defeated by someone who was better able to adapt and think a few steps ahead. Each ability had its own weaknesses, and each style of play could be challenged by another. It was more than a battle of characters ¡ª it was a battle of wits.


    But what was most impressive was how Satoru Marucho managed to introduce something into the game that gamers described in one word: the soul. Every detail, from the soft flutter of grass in the wind to the grandiose sound of a sword striking armor, spoke of the creator putting not only knowledge but also his heart into his creation. Marucho, being a man who always looked to the future, sought to create not just a game, but a new world accessible to everyone. His visionary approach to developing Wirsal was not only about aesthetics and gameplay balance, but also about creating an environment where everyone could feel like a full-fledged participant in virtual reality.


    He was also well aware that the real world was not always fair. People with disabilities, whom society often leaves on the sidelines, could finally find equality in its game. Therefore, Marucho took care of the implementation of a unique adaptation system that allowed the blind, deaf, and even people with limited mobility to immerse themselves in the virtual world just like any other player.


    A sophisticated sound system was developed for the blind, which transformed the visual elements of the game into auditory signals. Spatial sounds and voice prompts created a complete picture of the world around them. These players could "see" the world through sound¡ªthe forest whispered in their ears, rivers rang in their minds, and the footsteps of an approaching opponent echoed alarmingly.


    Deaf players, on the other hand, relied on an extensive system of vibrations and tactile feedback. Their avatars perceived the world through the smallest fluctuations ¡ª from the rustle of grass underfoot to explosions in battles. Every pulse was transmitted through their devices, allowing them to literally feel the game with their skin.


    But the most revolutionary solution was for those who, for various reasons, were confined to wheelchairs or lost the ability to move. Marucho personally insisted that such players could experience the full range of motion sensations through their avatars. Even those who had never walked could run, jump, and even fly in Beersheba, enjoying the freedom that reality could not offer them.


    These technologies have made Virsal not just a game, but a portal to a new life. For many people with disabilities, this has become a chance to feel like equals, able to participate in battles, build castles, and make friends.


    However, Marucho went even further. A separate initiative was created in the game, where each player could voluntarily help the adaptation of newcomers with disabilities. This has become not just a technical solution, but a powerful social movement within the game.


    Players who had previously been skeptical about such initiatives quickly realized their importance. Many of those who first tried to help such people adapt said that it was no less a discovery for them than the world of Wirsal itself.


    "You have no idea what it''s like to see a person walking as their avatar for the first time. They''re smiling, and it''s a real miracle," one of the volunteers recalled.


    Marucho wanted Virsal to be more than just a game. And he did it. His idea inspired millions and proved that the virtual world can be more just than the real one.


    Virsal became a place where dreams became reality, and reality, with all its problems, disappeared for a while. A world where everyone could find their own purpose. A world where the game was becoming something much bigger. The realization of unrealized desires gave her endless authority in the eyes of the players.


    But no matter how perfect the game was, deep down everyone understood that nothing lasts forever. Even Wirsal, created with love and skill, depended on servers, on the human will to maintain this virtual paradise. For the players, it was a world where dreams came true, but they couldn''t completely ignore the shadow of reality either.


    "Virsal lives as long as people believe in him," she thought, clenching her hand into a fist.


    For the player, it wasn''t just a world. It was a shelter. A virtual armor that was worn not only on your character, but also on yourself. The player could be anyone: a brave warrior, a shrewd strategist, or just part of a team that understood the player. Back in the game, no one judged for the mistakes of the past, for weaknesses, for doubts. The ability to be yourself, as you always wanted to be, was perhaps one of the main reasons for the popularity of the game.


    But the question wouldn''t let her go. What if this world disappears?


    She remembered Sato''s words after their victory.:


    ¡ª This is just the beginning.


    Perhaps he saw the future differently. Perhaps, for him, the game was nothing more than a challenge, a step on the way to some other peak. But for Scarlet, Wirsal has become something more.


    These thoughts didn''t make her any weaker. They only strengthened the resolve. If this world were to disappear one day, she would remain the one who fought to the last. She will leave a mark ¡ª not only in ratings or statistics, but also in the hearts of those who were nearby.


    In the meantime, Wirsal continued to live. Monsters roamed the dense forests, merchants exchanged goods in busy markets, and guilds made plans to conquer new territories. Somewhere among them, the laughter of the allies and the clink of weapons could be heard. The world was not standing still. And even if he disappears, the memory of him will remain.


    Wirsal was eternal. As long as there was at least one player who believed in him.

 Volume 1. Chapter 3. The truth is somewhere in the shadows: Part 1

    Meanwhile, a couple of hours passed, and the Allies stopped to celebrate their victory at the local St. Patrick''s Tavern. Sato was sitting at a table in the corner of the tavern with his arms crossed and his head slightly tilted. He tried to hide his anxiety, but it was still visible in his eyes. Scarlet didn''t look the same as always. Even though her face remained calm, he could sense that something was wrong. She was... another


    "Is everything okay?" Sato asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice was warm, but there was a slight note of concern in it, which was rare. He was usually reserved and reserved, but in her presence everything changed. Scarlet didn''t answer right away, but put her glass down on the table. In her hands was the beer glass they had started the evening with. Usually, Scarlet greeted such moments with jokes, laughing and enjoying the company, but now.


    "It''s okay," her voice sounded flat, like an automatic repetition of a phrase, as if she wanted to believe it herself. Sato couldn''t figure out what was wrong with her. Everything seemed to be the same, but he could feel the tension. Sato was watching her closely, not hiding his wariness. He knew her like the back of his hand, knew how she was always full of energy, how her laughter and wit never left her. But today... Something was wrong. Scarlet sat across from him, her hands gripping the glass so that her fingers turned white, and her eyes, which used to radiate confidence, were now some kind of hidden shadow.


    He sighed, and it was so soft that only she could hear it.


    "That''s not why you came, is it?" Sato asked, his words direct but gentle, as if he was trying to understand her. He wasn''t just a colleague or a friend, he was the one who tried to sort her out even when she was trying to hide her thoughts.


    Scarlet looked down for a moment, and her lips twitched slightly, but she didn''t respond. It was weird. Normally, she would have retorted right away, made a joke, laughing at herself, or at least answered in her usual style.


    Instead, her hand slowly lowered to the table, leaving the glass. At that moment, Sato felt the air in the room become thicker, and he could almost feel them both being pulled into some invisible circle of silence.


    ¡ªYou know you can''t lie to me,¡ª Sato continued, his tone becoming more confident.


    Scarlet looked up, and although she didn''t say a word, her gaze was full of hidden emotion, as if she was struggling with some kind of internal conflict. And at that moment, Sato understood. It wasn''t about what was happening in the game, not about wins, not about competitions. It was something more that was pulling her down, something she clearly didn''t want to talk about.


    "It''s okay,¡ª she repeated, but now her voice was almost empty, as if the words had lost their power.


    Sato wasn''t ready to back down. He wasn''t the type to just give up. He glanced at her face first, then said:


    ¡ªWhy don''t you tell me what''s really going on, Scarlet?"


    She sighed silently, her gaze became a little softer, but something was hidden in her eyes.


    "Not now, Sato,¡ª she whispered, but there was no lightness in her voice.


    Scarlet lifted her head slightly and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. There was a flicker of faint alarm in them, which she hastened to hide. She paused, as if about to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment.


    "I have to go anyway," she said softly, as if not wanting to burden him with her burden. There was no longing or joy in her words, just a certain heaviness that she herself tried not to notice. Sato felt something tighten inside him. . He grabbed her arm, keeping her from standing up. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, but they didn''t squeeze too hard, just a light touch. He didn''t know why, but at that moment he felt that if she left, something inside him would collapse. As if he had lost not just a character in the game, but something more important.


    "Don''t you want to talk?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment. Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her face softened. She didn''t say anything, but her gaze was full of something vague. Maybe pity, maybe regret. Sato continued to hold her hand, feeling her warmth, which was beginning to seem too fragile.


    "You do understand... I can''t explain everything now, give me time," her words were like a light shadow in the room that stayed with him even when she was silent. Sato felt the air in the tavern become thicker, as if these words were hanging in the air, preventing him from moving on. He didn''t know what exactly she was hiding, but he sensed that it was something important. Something that has nothing to do with wins or games, but permeates everything that happens in between. The words she didn''t say were heavy, leaving him at a loss.


    ¡ªOkay, so be it,¡ª his reply was quiet, almost inaudible. He didn''t know what to add. All he wanted was for her to stay so she could share it, no matter what exactly was behind her silence.


    But there was more than just detachment in her gaze, more than just a determination to leave. He could feel her emotions being held back, her inner struggle gradually pulling her out of their small, cozy world. Sato squeezed her hand a little harder, but not so much that it became insistent. He wanted her to stay, but he didn''t know how to make her feel that it was important.


    "You know I''m here if you need me.".. His words trailed off as he realized how they sounded. He couldn''t just say that everything would be fine, because he knew that sometimes words can''t cover the gap.


    Scarlet looked at him again, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn''t understand. Not regret, not pain, but rather something deeper, like dark water, in which danger is hidden. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "It''s not always that simple," she repeated, more confidently now. It was as if she wasn''t talking to him, but to herself. "Sometimes.".. There are too many things for one person to handle.


    Sato felt his heart tighten. He wanted her to continue, to keep her mind open. But he knew that this time she would not give him the key to her pain. And at that moment, he realized that her detachment wasn''t just a consequence of the game, it was part of what was happening in her real life. And that was something that Sato couldn''t control.


    He released her hand, but only for a moment, giving her space but not letting her go too far.


    Sato froze as she turned around, her gaze meeting his again. There was a shadow of something indefinable in her eyes-maybe regret, maybe forgiveness, or maybe just the fact that they both understood that something important was left unspoken. There was silence in the air, as if time had stopped for a moment.


    Scarlet didn''t take a step back. She just stood there, her figure illuminated by the dim light from the fire in the fireplace, and Sato felt a cold heaviness grip his heart. He wanted to say something, something that could hold her back, but the words stuck in his throat like a stone.


    "I''ll be back, though, as always," she finally said, her voice low, almost lulling, but there was no previous confidence in it. It wasn''t a promise, but rather an attempt to convince herself.


    Sato could only nod. He didn''t know what to say. She was walking away, but her words left more questions than answers. He felt that there was not just a pause between them, but a whole chasm that was now impossible to just jump over. And although she was still a part of the game, a part of this world, Sato understood that it was more than just virtual reality. It concerned both of them. He knew her virtual identity, but he had no idea about the real one in the real world.


    She took a step towards the door, and the moment her figure almost disappeared behind it, he finally made up his mind.


    ¡ªBe careful," his voice was quiet, but there was genuine concern in it, which he did not hide. This was the last chance to say at least that much before it was too late.


    Scarlet nodded slightly without turning around and disappeared through the door. Sato remained sitting at the table, thinking that if she returned, they would no longer be the same as they had been before. There was too much that remained unspeakable, and it worried him.


    Scarlet lifted her head slightly and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. There was a flicker of faint alarm in them, which she hastened to hide. She paused, as if about to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment.


    "I have to go anyway," she said softly, as if not wanting to burden him with her burden. There was no longing or joy in her words, just a certain heaviness that she herself tried not to notice. Sato felt something tighten inside him. . He grabbed her arm, keeping her from standing up. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, but they didn''t squeeze too hard, just a light touch. He didn''t know why, but at that moment he felt that if she left, something inside him would collapse. As if he had lost not just a character in the game, but something more important.


    "Don''t you want to talk?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment. Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her face softened. She didn''t say anything, but her gaze was full of something vague. Maybe pity, maybe regret. Sato continued to hold her hand, feeling her warmth, which was beginning to seem too fragile.


    "You do understand... I can''t explain everything now, give me time," her words were like a light shadow in the room that stayed with him even when she was silent. Sato felt the air in the tavern become thicker, as if these words were hanging in the air, preventing him from moving on. He didn''t know what exactly she was hiding, but he sensed that it was something important. Something that has nothing to do with wins or games, but permeates everything that happens in between. The words she didn''t say were heavy, leaving him at a loss.


    ¡ªOkay, so be it,¡ª his reply was quiet, almost inaudible. He didn''t know what to add. All he wanted was for her to stay so she could share it, no matter what exactly was behind her silence.


    But there was more than just detachment in her gaze, more than just a determination to leave. He could feel her emotions being held back, her inner struggle gradually pulling her out of their small, cozy world. Sato squeezed her hand a little harder, but not so much that it became insistent. He wanted her to stay, but he didn''t know how to make her feel that it was important.


    "You know I''m here if you need me.".. His words trailed off as he realized how they sounded. He couldn''t just say that everything would be fine, because he knew that sometimes words can''t cover the gap.


    Scarlet looked at him again, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn''t understand. Not regret, not pain, but rather something deeper, like dark water, in which danger is hidden.


    "It''s not always that simple," she repeated, more confidently now. It was as if she wasn''t talking to him, but to herself. "Sometimes.".. There are too many things for one person to handle.


    Sato felt his heart tighten. He wanted her to continue, to keep her mind open. But he knew that this time she would not give him the key to her pain. And at that moment, he realized that her detachment wasn''t just a consequence of the game, it was part of what was happening in her real life. And that was something that Sato couldn''t control.


    He released her hand, but only for a moment, giving her space but not letting her go too far.


    Sato froze as she turned around, her gaze meeting his again. There was a shadow of something indefinable in her eyes-maybe regret, maybe forgiveness, or maybe just the fact that they both understood that something important was left unspoken. There was silence in the air, as if time had stopped for a moment.


    Scarlet didn''t take a step back. She just stood there, her figure illuminated by the dim light from the fire in the fireplace, and Sato felt a cold heaviness grip his heart. He wanted to say something, something that could hold her back, but the words stuck in his throat like a stone.


    "I''ll be back, though, as always," she finally said, her voice low, almost lulling, but there was no previous confidence in it. It wasn''t a promise, but rather an attempt to convince herself.


    Sato could only nod. He didn''t know what to say. She was walking away, but her words left more questions than answers. He felt that there was not just a pause between them, but a whole chasm that was now impossible to just jump over. And although she was still a part of the game, a part of this world, Sato understood that it was more than just virtual reality. It concerned both of them. He knew her virtual identity, but he had no idea about the real one in the real world.


    She took a step towards the door, and the moment her figure almost disappeared behind it, he finally made up his mind.


    ¡ªBe careful," his voice was quiet, but there was genuine concern in it, which he did not hide. This was the last chance to say at least that much before it was too late.


    Scarlet nodded slightly without turning around and disappeared through the door. Sato remained sitting at the table, thinking that if she returned, they would no longer be the same as they had been before. There was too much that remained unspeakable, and it worried him.


    When the tavern door closed behind her, a strange chill swept through his mind. He looked at the computer screen, and the familiar "User logged out" sign flickered as a reminder that her image was disappearing from his world.

 Volume 1. Chapter 4. The Truth is somewhere in the shadows: Part 2

    The celebrations continued in the tavern. Some allies, not noticing what was happening, fell asleep on the floor, forgetting about the holiday. Sato remained sitting, absorbed in his own thoughts, as if he didn''t know what he was feeling. Nothing seemed to have changed, but something in the air made him think. He tried to figure out what exactly it was, but it all remained too unclear, especially since the more he tried to figure it out, the more curious he became.


    When her image finally disappeared into the white light of the exit, Sato''s expression changed. His eyes darkened, all the old innocence disappeared, and his lips twitched slightly in a barely noticeable smile.


    "Goodbye? You''ll never get far from me, sweetheart," he thought, but it wasn''t an expression of regret. It was a challenge. He turned back to his glass, his allies continued to make noise, but for Sato, this evening had already lost all value.


    There was another person sitting on the other side of the room in the real world. A young guy, about twenty years old, with tired eyes and dark bags under his eyes. He took off his headphones and looked at the screen, where Scarlet''s avatar was still flickering in the game menu. He sighed, as if relieved, and then, with a barely noticeable laugh, he said:


    "Scarlet.".. I don''t even know how you got used to this role. The time has come, right?


    He stretched and stood up, his body creaking pitifully, but the guy just grinned, continuing to look at the screen, where her avatar was still connected. There was something nagging inside, something elusive that wouldn''t let go.


    "All of it... It''s not as easy as it sounds," he said softly, as if to himself. The state of emptiness was familiar, but it came in a different way each time.


    Opening the refrigerator, the guy took out the juice, returned to the chair and sat down again. I turned on the replay recording of the finale. It wasn''t particularly important to him. The match was over, but it bothered me. The important thing was the feeling inside that wouldn''t let go. Emptiness.


    The light from the screen flooded the room like moonlight, only adding to the gloomy atmosphere. Rick, a skinny guy with an eternal mess on the table and a disheveled hairstyle, leaned back in his chair, as if trying to hide in its soft cushions. His fingers automatically reached out to his dark hair, smoothing it, but even this movement did not bring relief. The message was still blinking on the screen.: "You are logged out."


    ¡ªHa,¡ª he exhaled shortly, leaning back in his chair. ¡ª I''m already starting to forget my own name because of this game.


    Her lips parted in a faint smile, but she was more tired than happy.


    ¡ªRick, Rick... I need to remind myself of who I really am," he muttered almost automatically, looking down at his hands, still clutching the mouse tightly, as if it were his only link to this world.


    Leaning back in his chair, Rick rubbed his eyes, but the tiredness did not disappear. How much time has passed? Weeks? Months? Everything got mixed up in one endless wait. Scarlet''s voice, her habits, all became a part of him, almost indistinguishable from his own personality. It wasn''t just a game. It was something else.


    ¡ªExactly,¡ª he said a little louder, as if trying to break out of his thoughts. "I''m tired of pretending to be a woman. I''m a man after all! - after thinking a bit, though, on the other hand, what kind of man is given so many buns? Ha-ha.


    He grinned, glancing at the screen where Scarlet''s avatar was still glowing. Her perfect facial features, soft eyes, and confident posture against the background of her gaming profile gave off a strange feeling. Something between pride in her created image and mild annoyance.


    "Yes, Scarlet, you''re good. How many people have you fooled with your pretty face? Skins, diamonds... How many naive players have you tricked by promising something that doesn''t even exist? Rick liked to talk to himself a lot, he chuckled as he opened his inventory. Rare items, premium armor, and exclusive effects were all the result of his hard work. Or, more precisely, manipulation of other people''s expectations and desires.


    Rick twirled the can of juice in his hand, then took a long drink, as if the gesture could bring back his sense of reality.


    "But that''s too much, isn''t it?" ¡ª he muttered, as if addressing the avatar on the screen. ¡ª People are willing to pay for attention, for a fictional image. And I... I became just another part of that illusion. Rick ran a hand over his face, wiping away the fatigue accumulated over the long hours spent in front of the monitor. His eyes burned from the light of the screen, and his thoughts were confused, but a sudden blink on the second monitor brought his attention back. He automatically clicked the mouse, opening a new notification. A name appeared on the screen that sent a chill down Rick''s spine: "Rick_silen."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    It was his old account. His real image in virtual reality. The man is a murderer, the man he once was. A character whose name inspired respect and fear. This nickname had left its mark on the history of the game, but now it was abandoned, left in the past, like a forgotten chapter of his life.


    Rick held his breath, looking at the message. His hand hovered over the mouse for a moment. The message was simple and standard: "Return to the game and you will receive exclusive bonuses for your character!"


    Rick leaned back in his chair with an effort, staring at the screen.


    "Buns, then.".. He chuckled, but it sounded nervous.


    He even wondered what these bonuses were. Perhaps it was just another marketing ploy by the company to win back the players. However, there was something more behind the simple sentence. It was an invitation... Or a challenge?


    His gaze shifted to the other window, where the Scarlet game was still open. Snow¡ªwhite hair, perfect features, light armor-everything looked perfect, but now it looked like a fake showcase.


    "You''re my mask,¡ª Rick said softly, looking at the screen with Scarlet. "And he was me."


    Rick looked back at the letter. His fingers hovered uncertainly over the keyboard. It was a temptation that was hard to give up.


    ¡ªOkay, that''s enough. His voice was firm, but his lips twitched in a faint smile, betraying his hesitation. ¡ª It''s time to go back. Let''s play for ourselves.


    Rick opened the account selection window, but his hand paused on the mouse for a moment. He felt a strange regret, as if he was losing something important. Scarlet wasn''t just an image. She was his creation. Her strength, charisma, popularity¡ªall this became a part of him, and he became a part of her.


    He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. For a moment, the silence of the room seemed deafening.


    "Maybe I just like being someone else," he whispered, as if making a confession to himself. His voice was barely audible, as if he didn''t want to say the words out loud. ¡ª To be someone who can pretend, lie... and still stay on top.


    Rick smiled, barely noticeably, but his gaze became firmer.


    "Let''s see who I really am," he said, returning the cursor to the name "Rick_silen." "Or who I want to be this time."


    "Last game of the day," he muttered, already ready to press the account switch button. But somewhere deep inside I knew it was a lie. Today won''t be the last time.


    His gaze accidentally fell on a small shiny object lying next to the keyboard. A voice synthesizer. A small device that was his secret and the key to creating the illusion. Rick reached out, pressed a button, and a quiet, almost imperceptible signal announced that the program was turned off. The artificial female voice that had convinced, manipulated, and charmed so many times faded away, giving way to absolute silence.


    "That''s it, Scarlet,¡ª he said in his real voice, low and slightly hoarse. "You won''t be needed anymore today.


    He pushed the device to the edge of the table, as if trying to get it out of sight. But it didn''t help. His gaze returned to the screen anyway, where Scarlet''s avatar was flickering on another monitor. Her face, filled with soft confidence, looked straight at him. The smile seemed almost real, the eyes full of life.


    "And yet, how easy it is to deceive people," he laughed softly, feeling a strange mixture of pride, fatigue, and even shame. Even though he felt sorry for Satou in his heart


    Every memory of him speaking in that voice came back one after another. Rick remembered how many times he had honed his tone, chosen intonations, created images and speeches to sound like a real, confident girl. It was all a theater where he was the main actor, invisible to the audience.


    "Scarlet.".. ¡ª he whispered, as if addressing a living person. "You were perfect." So perfect that I almost believed it myself.


    ¡ª How many times have I told myself that this is just a game? ¡ª he said, looking at the dim reflection of his tired eyes in the screen. ¡ª But it''s not just a game. This is an opportunity. The opportunity to become someone I''ve never been... or who I''ll never be.


    Rick slowly switched accounts. Instead of Scarlet''s sophisticated appearance, the stern face of his old avatar appeared on the screen: Rick_silen. The black cloak, the sharpened daggers, the scarred face¡ªit all seemed so alien and far away that he barely recognized his character.


    "The real me, huh?" He smiled bitterly, running his fingers over the keyboard. But what does "real" mean?


    Rick shifted his gaze to the second monitor. Scarlet''s avatar was still there, like a reminder. Her radiant smile and the confidence in her eyes cut him from the inside out. She was so alive that she seemed real. More real than he was.


    ¡ªFunny,¡ª he whispered, smiling bitterly. ¡ª You have achieved something that I could not even dream of.


    He automatically reached for the voice synthesizer and picked it up. The cold metal felt unusually heavy, as if it held not just a device, but the key to its own double life. He stared at it for a moment, thinking, and then carefully placed it on the table. The synthesizer seemed to be waiting to be turned on again.


    "Maybe that''s the whole me?" ¡ª he muttered, with a strangled laugh. ¡ª Hide behind a mask, use someone else''s voice, receive rewards for a fictional life... It''s not just a game. It''s... me.


    "What if I''ve already forgotten who I really am?" "What is it?" he whispered, as if he was afraid to say it louder.

 Volume 1. Chapter 5. The Return

    He froze for a moment. Was there still a place for the real Rick, or was he consumed by Scarlet''s illusion? No answer was given.


    Rick leaned back in his chair and smiled bitterly at the screen. The old profile looked pathetic. Worn-out armor textures, simple weapons, no sparkle, no charisma. Everything that once seemed significant now looked ridiculous against the background of luxurious modern avatars.


    "Who the fuck is playing like that anymore?" He muttered, tapping his finger lightly on the mouse.


    He opened the inventory. Emptiness. A few basic skins, a couple of outdated bonuses, and old trophies that once seemed valuable. All this only emphasized its abandonment.


    ¡ªFuck it, Silenus,¡ª he chuckled. ¡ª You''ve really become something like a dinosaur.


    But it was this simplicity and angularity that somehow stirred something in his soul. He remembered the days when every step in the game was a real challenge. When skins for real money were a luxury, and victory was a reward for hours of work, not for tons of donations. He played fair in those days. Back then, he had not yet hidden behind someone else''s voice and used other people''s feelings for profit. It all happened because of Marucho''s death and the subsequent change of leadership on the board of the corporation, which changed its previous policy towards Wirsal.


    ¡ªOkay, Silent,¡ª he said aloud, as if trying to inspire himself. ¡ª Today we will try to remember what it feels like to be real.


    He clicked on the "Log in" button, and the server started loading. A slight feeling of excitement prickled in his chest. It seemed like it wasn''t just entering the game, but returning to the past.


    The light from the screen reflected in his eyes, making them shine like a man who had found an old friend again.


    But even when the interface loaded, and Rick found himself in an old city filled with new faces, he felt a slight discomfort. It was as if he was being watched. No, not other players. It was Scarlet''s shadow that seemed to be looking at him reproachfully. Her image was too vivid, too strong to just disappear.


    ¡ªFunny,¡ª he muttered, looking around at his old avatar. "Even here, in my old skin, I can still feel her next to me.


    He sighed and took his first step into a game world full of contradictions. Quickly leaving the busy city streets, Silent headed for the portal, north of the city, which teleported players directly to the entrance of the goblin dungeon. After casting a spell, Silent disappeared into the bright light, arriving at the entrance to the dungeon, Silent jumped into it without hesitation, while messages about player victories in tournaments were coming in the notifications.


    The faint glow of crystals soldered into the stone walls barely dispelled the thick, oily darkness of the dungeon. The air was heavy, cold, and permeated with dampness, as if the stone itself was squeezing moisture out of itself. Every step was accompanied by a dull echo, which threateningly spread into the distance, reminding that this place had long forgotten about the presence of light or warmth. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Silent froze at the entrance to the corridor, listening to the rustling. Somewhere far away, there was a hoarse growl, like the guttural sound of an awakening beast. The dim light of the torches cast flickering shadows that danced across the walls, like the shadows of the past come to life.


    Rick''s fingers gripped the mouse tightly, and his heart began to beat faster in his chest. His character slowly moved forward, the blades flashing crimson, reflecting the faint light. The mechanics of the game were perfect ¡ª every rustle underfoot, every vibration of the earth was remotely transmitted through the speakers.


    The very walls of the dungeon seemed to be alive. It seemed as if black liquid was about to burst out of the porous cracks or an eye would appear, following Silen''s every move. The wind, although weak, felt real ¡ª it stirred the flaps of the mantle, making the textures sway as if the player was in the real world.


    ¡ªWelcome back, Silen," he whispered, clutching the mouse as if it were the hilts of his daggers.


    There was movement in the shadows to the left. Silent, having reflexively activated the ability "Call of shadows", disappeared, leaving behind a barely noticeable smoke. A pair of massive goblins came out of hiding, their eyes glowing yellow, reflecting bloodlust. Their breathing was heavy and ragged, as if they were wheezing instead of breathing. One of them, armed with a huge axe, raised a weapon that shone with a jet-black luster.


    The interface suggested that his goal was to eliminate the main boss, the Thunder Lord, and collect an artifact that provided a powerful bonus to stealth and attack speed. Ordinary players didn''t even dare to try to get it alone. But Rick knew that if he could pull off this solo, he would not only regain a sense of his former skill, but also remind everyone in the game who Silent was. In addition, it will significantly reduce the gap from other pro players.


    The character slipped into the shadows, almost merging with the surroundings. Rick tensed, listening for every sound. The ability to control Silence returned to him quickly, as if he had never left the game. The first group of enemies appeared around the corner¡ªthree thug guards with huge axes. Their level was much higher than his current one, but Rick just smiled maniacally.


    "Let''s see if I still have my old skill," he muttered, activating the Shadow Strike ability.


    Silent disappeared into the haze and instantly appeared behind the first guard. The blade flashed with a crimson light before the opponent could raise his weapon. One is down. The others turned around, but it was too late. Silent, like a shadow, slid to the next enemy. His movements were fast and precise. A few seconds later, both guards collapsed to the ground.


    Rick felt his heart beat faster. Emotions overwhelmed him, just like in the good old days, when every victory seemed to mean something.


    "I still remember how to do it," he chuckled, wiping sweat from his forehead.


    Moving deeper into the dungeon, he came across traps and new enemies. Every fight was a challenge, but Rick didn''t give up, with the corpses of hundreds of slashed goblins lying behind him. Soon, he found himself in front of a massive door that led to the main hall. The boss was waiting for him inside.


    "Well, Thunderlord," he said, holding his breath. ¡ª It''s time to remind you why Silent was a legend.


    He activated all his powerups, drank 3 bottles of potions giving a +10% attack speed buff, and without hesitation, pushed open the heavy door. A bright electric glow flashed in the hall, and a giant monster appeared in front of him with a hammer that could smash him in one blow. This was the Thunder Lord, the legendary boss of the middle dungeon that every player dreamed of killing. His eyes glowed bright blue like lightning bolts, and the hammer he held seemed so massive that a single blow could wipe Silent off the face of the virtual world. With a booming growl, the monster stepped forward, and his every step vibrated in his headphones, as if Rick was not in a virtual world, but was in this gloomy dungeon in reality. The stones under the Lord''s feet crumbled, scattering to the sides. Electric sparks ran across his armor, and the air around him crackled with tension. The other goblins parted as if afraid to approach their master.


    ¡ªLet''s start the show," Rick said with a smile, preparing for the final battle.

 Volume 1. Chapter 6. The Meeting

    The light from the screen was the only source of illumination in the room, and Rick''s face was illuminated by a triumphant glow. With fingers still trembling from the strain, he ran over the keys, closing the reward window.


    ¡ªThat was powerful," he muttered, stretching his neck. His muscles ached from sitting for so long, but adrenaline was still pumping through his blood.


    On the screen, his character, Silent, stood at the epicenter of the destroyed boss hall. The fire flickered in the corners, slowly dying out, leaving a place of eerie silence. The hero''s blades were still covered with crimson reflections, as if they were imbued with the energy of a defeated enemy.


    "You''re still capable of surprise, old man,¡ª Rick grinned, reaching for a bottle of water.


    However, among the awards screen, his gaze stopped on one item. It was a rare amulet, an enchanted crystal with a fiery red glow. The item was part of a kit that Rick had dreamed of a few years ago when he was playing this character.


    "Look at that... His voice was full of surprise and a touch of nostalgia. ¡ª Part of the old set. It''s a sign, Silent. A sign that returning was the right decision. -


    He thoughtfully moved the cursor over the image of the amulet, peering into the smallest details. Memories flashed through his mind of how he had once hunted for this kit, how other players had contemptuously refused to help the "invisible Silent". Back then, he was a lonely player, and that loneliness became part of his image.


    "Looks like we''re back in the game, at least for today," he finally said, pressing the Equip button.


    On the screen, Silent flickered with a new, bright light, and his blades shone even more powerfully. A light lit up inside Rick. There was something special about returning to his roots, to an old character who, like himself, did not give up.


    "Okay, let''s see what awaits us next," he said defiantly, his fingers flicking over the keys again.


    It was starting to get light outside, but Rick wasn''t bothered. He was in his element today.


    The faint glow of rare crystals embedded in the walls barely dispelled the thick darkness of the corridor. Silence exhaled slowly, sheathing the crimson blades. A pile of molten stone¡ªall that was left of the giant fire golem¡ªwas smoking under his feet.


    "Another farce,¡ª he said softly, looking around the room. It seemed that nothing but dead silence disturbed the peace of the dungeon.


    ¡ª Hey, you!


    The voice sounded harsh and unexpected. Silent tensed, his hands on the hilts of his daggers with lightning speed. He turned around, ready to meet the enemy.


    A man stepped out of the shadows. He looked like an ordinary player armed with a sword. His armor looked tattered, and his movements showed fatigue. Two more girls were walking slowly behind him.


    "Your reflexes are impressive," the stranger said with a smile, raising his hands in a sign of peaceful intentions.


    Silent didn''t answer, just narrowed his eyes. There were still no markings on his radar.


    "Who are you?" "What is it?" he asked coldly, without relaxing his grip.


    ¡ªCalm down, I''m not an enemy," the man replied. "My name is Hiro. I''m... a survivor."


    Silent raised an eyebrow slightly. Hiro looked like he had recently emerged from a fierce battle, but his calmness and smile aroused suspicion.


    Silent glanced at the strange trio. Their animations looked natural, but he wasn''t convinced. After all, his radar was silent, and in this game that could only mean one thing: the system had either crashed or someone had tricked it.


    ¡ª Thank you for your help, ¡ª the guy took a step forward, raising his hand in a greeting gesture. His armor was pitted, and his breastplate was covered in blood, clearly not his own. ¡ª We thought we were finished.


    The voice was full of relief, but Silent sensed the falsity. He did not relax his tense muscles, preparing for a possible attack.


    "Don''t thank me ahead of time," he replied coldly, without taking his eyes off their leader. "Who are you?"


    The guy pretended not to notice the disbelief in his voice and hurried to answer.:


    ¡ª We are a regular group of players. The fourth wave of monsters took us by surprise, and this golem... He paused, obviously choosing his words. ¡ª Anyway, it''s just the three of us.


    Silence slowly shifted his gaze to the girls. One of them was holding a staff, and her clothes were standard low¡ªlevel magical attire, worn but functional. The second one looked like Hiller: a white robe, icons on her chest, extinguished potions on her belt. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "And you decided to hide until I did all the work?" He remarked sarcastically, interlacing his fingers on the hilts of his blades.


    ¡ª It''s not like that! ¡ª the guy hastily objected. ¡ª We were looking for an opportunity to get out. But you... You turned out to be a real savior.


    Silent just grunted, but his hands never left the hilt.


    "And now what?" His voice sounded like he was addressing the void. ¡ª You thanked me, and that''s it?


    "We would like to propose to unite," the guy finally said, taking another step forward. ¡ª Together we could go deeper into the dungeon.


    Silent froze. His lips twitched, as if from a slight smile.


    "Together?" "What is it?" he repeated, as if trying the word out. ¡ª And how are you going to be useful?


    The mage tensed slightly, but Hiller stepped forward, speaking in a soft, soothing voice.:


    "We know this dungeon. Going alone is dangerous even for a master like you.


    Silenus''s eyes narrowed. She was playing on his weaknesses, but she was making it too obvious.


    "Dangerous?" He slowly drew one of his blades, a crimson glow filling the space around him. ¡ª I just proved the opposite.


    There was a tense pause.


    "We have information about the final boss,¡ª the mage finally said softly. Her voice was barely audible, but the words struck a chord.


    Silent raised the blade, examining the reflection in its blade. Rick silently clutched the blade, his gaze, imbued with distrust and suspicion, did not look away from strangers, the information about the boss was of little concern. His eyes reflected not only aggression, but also a cold determination honed by years of playing. He didn''t move, as if waiting for the moment when his doubts would be justified, but something else bothered him.


    ¡ª How did you escape my radar? His voice was flat, but there was steel in it.


    The guy in front of him shuddered, as if he felt the weight of this question. He just stood there for a few seconds, not knowing how to respond, then he forced himself to:


    ¡ªI... uh... we... it''s¡­


    "This is my passive ability! One of the girls interrupted him. She took a step forward, her figure swaying with fatigue, but her voice sounded firm. ¡ª I have a disguise skill, one of the upgrades. True, its effect is short, but it was enough for us to survive. In small print, not everyone noticed.


    Rick remained motionless. He had been in the game for so many years that he knew all the updates by heart. This minor clarification passed by his attention, and he felt irritation begin to boil in him.


    "Really?" ¡ª he said slowly, not letting go of the blade. His gaze was as sharp as a blade. "I missed something."


    He pulled out three vials of green liquids from his inventory¡ªhealing potions. They weren''t particularly valuable, but they were exactly what was needed in this situation. Rick unceremoniously threw them at the group''s feet, causing the vials to roll across the floor.


    "Drink while you have a chance," he said. His voice was neutral, but there was something in his tone that made me doubt whether I should trust him.


    The girl with the disguise lowered her head, taking the potions. She looked tired, but her gaze was sincere, and Rick, although he didn''t trust her, noticed that there was no hidden deception in that look. Hiro took a step forward and spoke again.


    "We are not enemies," he said with difficulty, but his words seemed sincere. "We really need help." We found the artifact, but with it came... them.


    Rick listened without saying a word. Every muscle in his body was tense, every nerve ready to react to any threat. He didn''t trust them, but the words "artifact" caught his attention.


    "An artifact?" His voice was low, and there was a chill in his words. He carefully assessed every move in front of him.


    ¡ªSo you''re saying that you came here for some ancient artifact?" Why should I believe you?


    The girl with the disguise glanced at him, her eyes full of determination and tension, but she didn''t object.


    "We''re not talking about a simple subject,¡ª she said. ¡ª This artifact can change everything. We didn''t know we were going to face this. If it wasn''t for you, we wouldn''t be here anymore.


    Rick just stared at them. He saw something in their faces that reminded him of the truth. Not the perfect truth, but still the sincerity in their intentions.


    "So the artifact was taken by monsters?" Rick asked, because all the players knew that the intelligence of stronger creatures was much higher, and they could build good tactics to destroy players, mostly beginners, by throwing such artifacts as bait.


    ¡ªYes, they went north," Hiller replied. Silent lost interest after hearing about this and started walking away.


    The girl''s voice sounded suddenly and loudly:


    ¡ª Wait!


    Rick froze, but didn''t turn his head. The shadows seemed to swallow him up as soon as he moved. He didn''t feel the need to turn around. Before answering, Silent felt the tension in the air increase.


    "Why don''t you want to join us?" You''re strong, one of the strongest players I''ve ever seen. With you, we could have completed this dungeon completely, and you would have received a decent reward! Her words sounded sincere, but there was an urgency in them, not a request.


    Rick didn''t stop. His voice was as cold as ice, and there was a hint of detachment in it.


    ¡ª I''m used to working alone. The answer sounded so mechanical that even he himself felt that the question no longer mattered.


    He took a step forward, but her next question seemed to pierce through him, making his heart stop for a second.


    Are you really such a loner, or are you just afraid that you''ll have to take care of others?


    Rick stopped for a moment, his feet digging into the stone. Those words, coming out of her mouth, touched a line that he always tried to keep under control. That deep and dark corner of his soul, where he wouldn''t let anyone in, wouldn''t even let himself think about it.


    Everything froze. It was as if the air itself had become heavy, and every sound, every movement seemed too loud. But Rick, without turning around, still let out an answer.


    "I''m not interested in what you think. I play to win, not to help anyone. Rick replied coldly and continued, "Besides, clearing the dungeon 100% is not part of my plans, and what can you do?


    He made a pause. This time, his words were barely audible, but they contained all his cold dislike.


    ¡ª I hate abuzah.


    With that, he stepped into the shadows, disappearing into the dungeon corridor. His figure disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind only an empty echo of his footsteps. The group stood stunned, stunned not so much by his words as by how easily he said goodbye to them. They didn''t know what exactly Rick wanted to hide, but the tension in the air made them think. Who was this man who had so cruelly cut them off from his reality?

 Volume 1. Chapter 7. The Battle with the Wolves

    Alone with himself, Rick slowed down slightly. His mind, as if on autopilot, continued to process the girl''s words that sounded in his ears as echoes of something important that he studiously ignored. "Are you afraid to take care of others?" These words echoed in my head, creating a strange tension. He tried to dismiss them, but his memory brought him back to the days when the game brought joy, when there was still no such fierce desire for victory and self-improvement. Back then, the game was not just a competition, but something more. But now that he was alone, everything had changed.


    ¡ªNonsense," he whispered, almost unaware of what he was saying. Silent forced himself to get back to the point: the next goal, the next fight, the next step.


    But here it was¡ªthis feeling, as if something incomprehensible had already begun to break through the thickness of his defenses, and he didn''t even know how important it would turn out to be. From the moment I crossed their paths, everything will change.


    The darkness of the forest shrank, as if nature itself did not want to let those who dared to step into its shadow pass. With each step forward, Rick felt the density of this darkness grow, as if it covered him like a spider''s web. He held his breath, and at that moment, on the verge of silence, a sound suddenly rang out. It was no ordinary noise. No, it was the sound of war¡ªa growl, the echoes of a steely struggle, and short, wounded screams of pain and despair.


    Rick froze. He activated the improved radar setting, and dozens of enemy dots flashed on the interface screen. His experience told him that what was happening here and now was not just a fight, but something more important than he could have imagined. A desperate struggle for survival.


    He shifted, pressing himself to the ground, and in a few moments found himself at the edge of the clearing. In the center, like an undisputed leader, he saw her. The girl, her body was battle-hardened, but her eyes shone without losing clarity. It was obvious that she was the commander, given the giving of orders. There was a clear confidence in her movements. Her hair, sprinkled with drops of sweat and blood, shone in the sun like a golden crown, and her voice, like a weapon, penetrated into the very heart of the battle.


    "Raiden, let''s go! Lia, close Aiko! Taro, bring out the left phalanx! Don''t let them surround us!" Her instructions were clear and authoritative. She flashed her sword, blocking the giant wolf''s blow.


    Her team moved smoothly, as if following a training plan. There was no room for doubt in this group. Each of her colleagues knew what to do, and each of her orders sounded like the absolute truth, like an indisputable law that could not be challenged. But the most amazing thing was how she, without unnecessary words, united these people ¡ª so different and so strong. Just like nature itself, she was a part of this battle, an integral part of it.


    Rick felt the inner chill recede, and something in his chest trembled for the first time in a long time. He had always been a loner by himself, but here, in front of him, there was something that could make him doubt his habits.


    "What is she doing here?" he thought. And then he clenched his fists. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t ignore the fact that this girl wasn''t just a leader. She was more than that.


    This woman with the nickname Freya moved like the elements themselves. Her thin sword flashed silver, leaving behind bloody footprints and torn bodies of the enemies. She was not just a player ¡ª she was a strategist who seemed to be fighting a battle on the level of a chess field, where her every move was thought out to the smallest detail. Rick felt it as soon as his gaze met hers. She didn''t just deflect blows, she controlled chaos, causing enemies to fall under the blows of her sword, like wedges into the body of peaceful tyranny.


    But there were too many wolves. They didn''t just attack. Their black skins blended into the shadows of the forest, and their eyes sparkled with a poisonous green light. It wasn''t just a pack of animals. They were killing machines, operating smoothly, like a well-organized army. Each of the wolves was part of a larger plan, bypassing the weak links of the defense. Rick saw how some players start to lose their stamina when fighting multiple enemies at the same time.


    "Damn, how fucked up they are..." he cursed to himself, gripping the hilt of the dagger tightly. On the one hand, saving them would be a problem, and he didn''t want to be a hero in such a situation. But if they do not stand up, they will not only be destroyed, but also increase the power of the wolves by fattening them, and at the same time, the strengthened wolves will create even more problems in further advancement. And I didn''t want to risk it again ¡ª one more deadly battle, and I could forget about this raid.


    At that moment, one of the wolves broke through the defense and rushed at the healer. Leah, who didn''t even have time to scream, stumbled and fell to the ground. The beast was already ready to sink its claws into her stomach, its snarling mouth filled with saliva, and its eyes burned with poisonous fire. But at that moment, Rick couldn''t watch anymore. He instantly flew out of his hiding position, the blade in his hand flashed with a bright light, and then he cut through the air, and the wolf burned in pain.


    The beast fell, staining Leah with blood, and Rick calmly walked past, not wasting a second on the sight.


    Freya noticed his intervention, and her voice cut through the silence like a knife edge.:


    "Who are you?"


    Rick didn''t turn around. He didn''t bother with unnecessary words, preferring to speak only to the point.


    ¡ª "Someone who will save your asses if you listen." ¡ª his voice was cold and calculating, foreshadowing neither sympathy nor interest in what will happen next.


    She paused for a moment, assessing his tone. There was something sharp and decisive about him, but there was no pride behind it, but experience bordering on fatigue. She flashed a small smile. She''s used to it. He was not like the others, who rush from emotions or look for opportunities for pretentious actions. He was cold and precise.


    ¡ªOkay, show me what you can do," Freya nodded, giving the order. - "Team, support his right flank!" If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Rick didn''t need any support, but he understood that it was just a form of exchange. He quickly assessed the wolves'' alignment: the two alpha males at the head shared the group''s attention, controlling the bulk of the battle. A light light flashed in his eyes. Without wasting any time, he dropped the command:


    "Kill the right alpha. I''ll take over the left one."


    Her team silently followed the instruction. Rick was direct, and his words didn''t require discussion. Freya wanted to object, but her look at his confident actions stopped her. He was already on the move, walking towards the left alpha without experiencing the slightest hesitation.


    The battle has entered a new rage. Rick moved like a shadow, his punches were precise, his steps confident, and each new fight was just a continuation of the past. The alpha wolf, despite her agility and strength, could not cope with what Rick brought to the battle ¡ª with composure and incredible speed.


    ¡ª "You won''t survive..." ¡ª his last look at the wolf was calm, almost indifferent, but resolute.


    Only a couple of minutes later, when the wolf was already falling, he heard screams, and then silence. On the right flank, his order was obeyed. The alpha wolf was defeated. The wolves, who had lost their leaders, scattered in panic, letting out desperate howls like those who realized they had lost.


    The forest swallowed them up again, leaving behind only the corpses of wolves covered in blood, which gradually absorbed the cold night air. The silence became even more disturbing than before. It was accompanied by the heavy breathing of the surviving players, who, exhausted, bandaged their wounds. Their eyes, still full of fatigue, looked at each other with an expression that could say, "We''re alive, but what''s next?"


    Rick stood there as if nothing had happened, his face showing neither relief nor triumph. Just a tense look, glancing at the remaining players. He didn''t need any praise. For him, everything was just part of the process. He started walking towards the trees.


    Right now, these were just his own steps in search of the next test.


    Freya, a girl armed to the teeth and with the bearing of a queen, approached the stranger who had just saved her team. There was confidence in her movements, but her gaze was intense, as if she was trying to figure it out. Her eyes were fixed on Silenus, trying to find the slightest hint of the hidden purpose of his actions.


    Silent stood by the tree, his figure seemed to be part of this gloomy scene, like a stone merging with the surrounding darkness. He did not move, his face was motionless, but his eyes were cold, calculating. He analyzed every detail: the equipment, the condition of the fighters, their interaction ¡ª everything was the subject of attention.


    ¡ªYou made it sound like killing wolves was a normal routine," Freya said, stopping in front of him. Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of respect in it. "I hate to admit it, but we couldn''t have done it without your help. Ask for whatever you want, Rick_silen. You''ve earned your reward."


    Rick looked up, his face like it was made of stone. There was no gratitude in his eyes, just cold observation.


    "If I hadn''t intervened, you wouldn''t be here," he replied, without making even the slightest hint of a confession.


    Freya''s eyes narrowed slightly. She wasn''t someone who was used to hearing such things, especially from those who weren''t part of her team. Folding her arms across her chest, she replied with chilling coldness:


    "Are you always so straightforward? Or do you just like to put people in their place?"


    ¡ªI''m telling it like it is," his reply was quiet but confident. He put the blade behind his back, taking his time, as if this was all a normal thing for him. "And the truth is rarely pleasant."


    The calm but slightly irritated voice of Leah, the team''s hiller, rang out from behind Freya.:


    "Freya, leave him alone! He just saved our lives. Maybe we shouldn''t have an interrogation?"


    Freya, without turning around, cast a glance over her shoulder with a slight sneer.:


    "Relax, Lia. This is not an interrogation. This is... an introduction."


    Leah exhaled loudly, rolling her eyes:


    - "Your ''dating'' always ends either in fights or long arguments. Sometimes, by the way, both at once."


    Raiden, a mage with a stern face and an equally stern look, was sitting nearby on a fallen tree trunk. He broke away from his thoughts and stared at Rick intently, like a hunter noticing something unusual in his prey.


    "Freya, he''s right. Without him, we would be lying next to these wolves right now. But I have a question for you, Rick_silen."


    His voice was steady, but there was a subtle note of doubt in it.


    "Why did you come here alone? Even for a pro like you, it''s... Boldly."


    Rick silently turned his gaze to the magician, his face remained impassive, as if he was considering not a person, but a task that needed to be solved. Finally, he spoke, in a voice as cold as the edge of a blade.:


    "I always play alone. No one is covering her back, but no one is going to stick a knife in her either."


    These words, uttered almost without emotion, hung in the air like the icy breath of a winter wind. No one interrupted. Even Raiden, known for his sharp tongue, paused for a moment, frowning in puzzlement.


    Freya, without taking her eyes off Rick, tilted her head. There was something predatory, appraising in her gaze. She was clearly thinking about what was behind those words.


    ¡ªYou seem to have been through a lot," she finally said, her voice softer but still firm. "But we are not the ones who abandon our own. We fight, we protect each other, and we always come back together. Would you like to come to my place? We could use someone like you. What do you say?"


    Her words sounded like a suggestion, but there was an invitation wrapped in a challenge behind them. She took a step closer, as if trying to catch the slightest hint of his reaction.


    Rick remained motionless. His dark eyes darted to Freya, tasting her words, but his face was still a mask.


    ¡ªNo," he replied shortly, as if putting an end to the conversation. "I''m not looking for a team. I play for fun."


    With that, he turned away, taking a step away, leaving the group with their thoughts and the unsaid.


    After a short pause, when only the wind rustled through the leaves, Freya said with a slight sneer:


    "Strange is an understatement. He acts like a man who knows much more than he''s letting on. People like him are always hiding something."


    She ran her fingers over the hilt of her sword, as if weighing her own thoughts.


    "But whatever it is, he''s obviously a professional. With such skills, a loner can''t be random."


    Raiden frowned, taking a quick glance at Freya.:


    "Do you think he''s dangerous?"


    ¡ªMaybe," she replied shortly, her voice firm, but there was a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "But in a world where danger is everywhere, such allies are rare. Even if they don''t understand it themselves."


    Leah, still looking in the direction Rick had gone, muttered:


    "He may be a loner, but he helped us. That means something."


    Freya chuckled, tossing her hair over her shoulder.


    "Don''t get your hopes up, Lia. He helped not for our sake, but because it suited his purposes. If we''re lucky, he''ll cross paths with us again. If not, we can handle it ourselves."


    She turned to the team, her face once again focused and determined.


    "Stop talking. We still have a lot of work to do. Bind up the wounds, check the supplies and get ready for the next rush. It''s not safe here."


    Raiden nodded, and Leah reluctantly began to sort through the bag, looking for another portion of the healing potion. But she couldn''t stop thinking about Silence.


    Freya took one last look into the darkness where Rick had disappeared, and said softly, almost to herself.:


    "See you again, loner. And then we''ll see who you really are."


    No one heard it, but her words sounded more like a promise than an assumption.


    Freya''s eyes flashed, her lips stretched into a barely noticeable, predatory smile, like a predator who has smelled prey.


    ¡ªBut not today," her voice was low but confident, like a commander making a tactical decision. "We''re packing up and moving out. We still have to reach the citadel."

 Volume 1. Chapter 8. Fear

    A few minutes later, he reached a small 24-hour cafe on the corner. The warm light and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted him like an old friend, offering him a break. Rick stood at the entrance for a moment, and then resolutely went inside.


    ¡ªBlack coffee, please," he said, taking out his wallet.


    Rick took the glass and sat down at a table by the window. Outside, the snowstorm was intensifying, obscuring the outlines of houses and streetlights. He took a sip thoughtfully, feeling the hot drink warming him.


    Suddenly, the phone vibrated again. Rick tensed, preparing to read something strange. But this time the message was from Mika.:


    "Little brother, are you sure you''re home? I had a strange dream that someone was watching you... Just check the locks before going to bed, okay?"


    A chill went down his spine. He thought for a moment, and then glanced at the window, behind which a swirl of snow danced in time with his rapid heartbeat.


    "A coincidence? Or something more?" It flashed through his mind.


    Rick snorted, trying to shake off the nagging feeling of anxiety, but a chill ran down his spine, stubbornly reminding him that something was wrong. He slowly turned over his shoulder, looking around the empty cafe room. No one. Just the soft crackle of the coffee machine in the corner and the soft clink of cups behind the bar.


    "It''s okay," he muttered to himself, but his own words sounded unconvincing.


    After finishing his coffee, Rick felt that his taste had become bitter, as if the drink had absorbed all the tension of the moment. He automatically checked his phone, but the screen was silent. No new messages. This strange "peace" strained him more than if the messages had continued.


    He left a few bills on the table and left the cafe. It became even quieter outside ¡ª the snowfall turned the city into a silent kingdom, covering the sidewalks with a fluffy blanket. Lanterns dimly illuminated the streets, their light reflected in the icy paths.


    Rick sauntered home, lost in thought.:


    "I''ll come back and check the IP address. It''s probably someone from the raid. Maybe he decided to settle the score. Anyway, I''ll find out who it is."


    He tried to convince himself that everything that was happening was just someone''s joke, but the strange feeling of someone else''s gaze boring into the back of his head wouldn''t let go. He looked back twice, but the street behind him remained lifeless. Only his own footprints trailed across the snow, shimmering in the lamplight.


    The silence was suddenly broken by a barely audible sound. At first, there was a slight creak, similar to the slipping of shoes on ice, then the crunching of snow.


    Rick stopped abruptly.


    "Who''s there?" His voice sounded hollow in the snowy silence.


    He turned around slowly. The street behind him was empty, as before. But when I looked at the snow under the streetlight, I noticed a barely discernible shadow that flashed and immediately disappeared around the corner of the building.


    "Damn it," he muttered, feeling a chill run down his spine.


    Pulling himself together, Rick quickened his pace, trying to stay in the light of the lanterns. His every move seemed unnecessarily loud in the silence of the night city. But despite his efforts, the anxiety was getting stronger, like a snowstorm that was now howling somewhere in the distance.


    The shadow no longer appeared, but the feeling that he was not alone did not leave Rick.


    When he reached his entrance, his fingers were trembling slightly as he entered the intercom code. "Nonsense," he tried to reassure himself, entering the warm entrance and brushing the snow off his shoes. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he approached the elevator. The elevator was going up and down on the screen of blinking numbers, and Rick tiredly pressed the call button.


    For a moment, he felt strange. The elevator stopped when it reached the first floor, but the doors did not open immediately. Rick took a step back, peering intently at the metal doors.


    With a soft buzz, the doors finally opened. The elevator was empty. He went inside, but when the doors started to close, his gaze accidentally caught on the window opposite the entrance.


    A figure stood motionless outside, under a dim streetlight. A black silhouette, indistinct due to the dense snow cover, stared straight at him.


    "Who is this?" It flashed through Rick''s mind instantly. He tensed, but when he blinked, he found that the figure had disappeared.


    The doors closed. Inside the elevator, he felt the tension build up, and cold sweat trickled down his back. Rick clenched his fists, trying to stop shaking.


    The elevator stopped on his floor, and he was about to step out into the dark corridor. The light above his apartment door flickered and then went out.


    Rick froze for a moment at the elevator exit, staring intently into the darkness in front of him. The corridor, which usually seemed so serene and familiar, now seemed to breathe a hidden threat.


    ¡ªGreat, the light bulb went out, too," he muttered, trying to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding louder than the sound of footsteps.


    Rick went to his door and felt for the keys in his pocket. His fingers, trembling slightly, caught on the fabric for a moment before he pulled out the bunch and inserted the key into the lock.


    But before he turned it around, he felt a cold wind pass through his body, as if someone was breathing on his back. Rick whirled around.


    The corridor remained empty. Only the muffled sound of the wind outside the windows reminded him that he was not alone in the universe.


    - "Paranoia. Pure paranoia," he exhaled softly and quickly turned the key, pushing the door open.


    It was dark and quiet inside the apartment. He stepped inside, instinctively locking the door behind him and double checking that all the locks were locked.


    Rick took off his shoes and reached for the light switch. A click and nothing happened. The light didn''t turn on.


    "Really? Did they also cut off the electricity?"


    He took out his phone, activated the flashlight and went deeper into the apartment. A ray of light picked out familiar shapes from the darkness: a sofa, a table, a computer. Everything was in its place.


    But the feeling that someone was watching him wouldn''t let go.


    When he reached the room, he turned the light on the window. The curtains were slightly ajar, and Rick moved closer to pull them shut. For a moment, his gaze slid outside, and he felt his heart skip a beat.


    In the distance, under a weak street lamp, the same black figure stood again. Motionless. Without a face, without features, just a shadow that stared at his window.


    ¡ªDamn it!" "What is it?" he blurted out.


    There was a sharp jerk, and the curtains closed with a bang. Rick retreated against the wall, his breath coming in short gasps, and beads of cold sweat trickled down his back. My chest felt tight, as if an invisible hand was holding my breath.


    The phone buzzed, the vibration breaking the disturbing silence of the room. For a moment, he just stared at the screen, not daring to look at the device. But his gaze involuntarily slid down. Thin lines of text flashed on the display.


    Message.


    "You''re home. It''s good. Now we can start."


    At the same moment, electricity was turned on, the monitor turned on itself, and instead of the usual desktop, an inscription appeared in large font.:


    "You''ve returned home. But are you sure you came back alone?"


    Rick recoiled from the monitor, his heart pounding. Panic gripped his mind, but he quickly tried to pull himself together. My fingers ran over the keyboard, but nothing happened. The computer did not respond. The screen glowed with a gloomy inscription for another second, and then went out, leaving the room in complete darkness.


    The silence seemed to thicken, becoming almost tangible. And in that silence, there was a barely discernible sound. A creak. Light, but loud enough to be heard. Right behind him.


    Rick froze, his breath coming in short gasps. For a few seconds, he didn''t dare turn around, feeling as if the air around him was filled with something sinister. Then, taking a deep breath, he abruptly turned around.


    Nothing.


    The apartment was empty. The same furniture was arranged, the same books on the shelf, the chair was slightly pulled apart. Only now the space seemed alien.


    "This... just a glitch," he muttered, forcing himself to move. His hand was shaking as he reached for the light switch on the wall.


    Click. The light flashed on, flooding the room with a warm yellow glow. Rick looked around at the familiar surroundings, but the tension wouldn''t let go. Everything was in its place.


    He licked his dry lips, went to the computer and tried to reboot it by pressing the power button. The screen blinked, but instead of the usual loading, a new inscription appeared:


    "Do you really think the light can save you?"


    Rick felt an icy chill seep into his bones. He slowly took a step back, then another, until his back was against the wall.


    "Who the hell are you?!"Stop it!" he shouted, but his voice sounded too weak, almost uncertain.


    The monitor went out again, as did the lights in the room. This time, the darkness seemed even thicker, and it seemed to press him down, filling every corner of the room.


    And then there was another sound. The same creaking of the floor, but now much closer.

 Volume 1. Chapter 9. The Inevitability

    Rick slowly got up from his chair, stretched, feeling how every muscle reminded him of himself after long hours of immobility. His numb hands were shaking, but he ignored it. He took off his headphones, carefully placed them on the table and looked at the monitor screen. There, surrounded by the darkness of the game interface, his character stood motionless. Another heavy raid was completed: plus five levels, a dozen fragments of the assassin''s emblem. It''s not enough for such a job, but still a step forward.


    "Not much... But it''s better than nothing. At least the progress is noticeable," he muttered, turning off the game. The screen went dark, leaving only a faint reflection of light from the streetlights in the room. "I don''t win so often because I''m the best, thanks to closed beta testing," Rick muttered to himself.


    ¡ªClosed beta test,¡ª he repeated more mockingly, glancing at his keyboard.


    It was there that he gained the advantage that now allowed him to break ahead. He was among the few who were able to enter the game before others, explore its weaknesses, mechanics and, most importantly, come up with strategies.


    ¡ª It''s not a skill. It''s... experience,¡ª Rick muttered over and over, staring thoughtfully at the screen.


    He looked up at his watch: it was long past midnight. There was silence outside, broken only by the occasional crackle of old radiators. Rick put on his jacket, carefully buttoning it up to his throat. The cold coming through the window slits suggested that outside the window the night would greet him with a frosty breath.


    As he opened the door, he felt a sharp gust of winter air even in the entryway. Going down the elevator and going to the door, he saw the first snow, covering the ground with a white blanket, crunching under the feet of rare passers-by. The city was shrouded in silence, the lanterns illuminated only small islands of sidewalks, casting long shadows on the frosted facades of houses.


    "What a lazy guy I am..." he thought with a slight grin. ¡ª "It would be worth getting out more often, and not just rushing around the virtual worlds."His phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to be distracted for a moment. After taking it out, Rick noticed a new message from his sister.


    "I''ll be back tomorrow, brother, I''m late. I kiss you, your Micah."


    A faint smile appeared on his face. Mika... was the only person whose presence gave him a feeling of warmth. She was like a beacon to him in the endless darkness, always caring, always there for him¡ªeven from a distance.


    Finally, Rick stepped outside, and the cold night air blew over his face. The city was asleep, shrouded in winter silence. Rare passersby hurriedly crossed the streets, wrapped in scarves and hats, and the sounds of their footsteps quickly disappeared into the frosty air.


    Rick looked up, watching the steam billowing out of his mouth. The world around him was silent and calm, but something was moving inexorably inside him. Was it a desire to break out of the usual routine or just a quiet longing? He didn''t know. But the night, cold and serene, seemed to be preparing to reveal something new to him. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "The world is no less harsh here than it is there," he thought, his gaze sliding down the empty street.


    And yet, there was something strangely comforting about this winter''s peace. He put his hands in his pockets and walked towards the nearest store, slowly, but at the same time cautiously, as if he were continuing his journey in a virtual universe. Rick walked thoughtfully along the road, lost in thought. The weak light of the lanterns fell on his figure, outlining the drops of melted snow that flowed from the branches of the trees.


    "This raid was good... But that''s not enough. Tomorrow we need to go deeper," he mused, breaking through the maze of his strategies. The picture of the next campaign loomed in his head with frightening clarity: more bosses, rare artifacts, unexpected twists. Every step was thought out. "Maybe I''ll knock out something worthwhile."


    The ringing tremor of the phone in his pocket snapped him out of his reverie. A slight irritation passed over his face¡ªwho could write at such an hour? He didn''t hurry to take out the device until the vibration stopped.


    An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen, and a message appeared below it.


    "You''re playing well, Rick_sailen. But you can''t even imagine what awaits you next."


    Rick froze. The icy wind burned his face, but he didn''t seem to feel it. His gaze clung to the lines as his brain desperately tried to comprehend what he had read.


    "Rick_silen...?" ¡ª he whispered almost inaudibly, as if the name was a stranger to him. It''s his gaming nickname, but who the hell would know him here, outside of the virtual world?


    His fingers tightened on the phone, and his thoughts whirled. "Who is this? A random joke? Or did someone from the former team decide to play a prank on me?" But something in the tone of the text did not let me calm down. It wasn''t just a challenge or a joke. Every word seemed to be written with intent, with cold calculation.


    He slowly looked around the street. The empty road, the muffled sounds of the night city, and the sparse silhouettes of passersby. No one looked suspicious. And yet, the feeling of being watched pierced him.


    "Next? What do they mean by that?" A shadow of concern crossed his face, but he immediately pulled himself together. The message could just be an empty threat.


    Rick exhaled slowly, put his phone in his pocket, and continued on his way. But the thought of that message wouldn''t let go of him, boring into his head like a hissing whisper from the shadows.


    The phone vibrated again. Rick glanced at the screen, waiting for the next attack from the unknown. This time, the message was concise, but it was cold.:


    "The game is just beginning. Good luck."


    He slowly put the phone back in his pocket, feeling anxiety gradually cover him. "It''s kind of stupid. Probably someone I met on the raid," he thought, trying to convince himself that this was just someone''s joke. But even his inner voice sounded uncertain.


    "Wait, though... Holy shit! Nobody knows this number except Mika?! What the fuck?" The thought struck like a hammer. A minute ago, he would have laughed at this, but now everything inside is tense.


    "If this is a joke from Mika..." an idea flashed through his mind, but Rick quickly dismissed it. His sister wasn''t capable of such pranks. Especially after he once promised to throw away her favorite collection of figurines if she ever did that to him again.


    Rick looked around again, trying not to panic. The deserted streets, covered with snow, seemed lifeless. A stray dog ran somewhere in the distance, its tracks in the snow immediately hidden by the incoming wind. Behind him, the lights of a passing taxi flashed in the dim light of a street lamp.


    "Calm down. It''s just that someone decided to have some fun. Nothing unusual, Rick told himself, but his feet picked up on their own. The vague feeling of being watched made him pull his hood even tighter.

 Volume 1. Chapter 10. Who are you?

    "Who the hell are you?!"Stop it!" he shouted, but his voice sounded too weak, almost uncertain.


    The monitor went out again, as did the lights in the room. This time, the darkness seemed even thicker, and it seemed to press him down, filling every corner of the room.


    And then there was another sound. The same creaking of the floor, but now much closer.


    Rick froze, his breathing quickened. Turning on the flashlight on his phone, he carefully illuminated the room. The beam of light trembled with his hand, picking out the outlines of a table, chair, and shelves from the darkness...


    And suddenly he noticed something.


    A figure appeared in the corner of the room where there had been nothing before. Tall, black, as if composed of darkness itself. She stood motionless, but Rick could feel her "gaze" literally burning through him.


    The phone in his hand vibrated. Rick took a quick look at the screen. Message.


    "Run."


    While Rick was standing in a convulsive state, the creature disappeared as suddenly as it appeared when he blinked.


    "What the fuck?" What the fuck? ¡ª Rick ran to the door, with only one goal, to get the fuck as far away from this apartment as possible, but the door jammed. No matter how hard he tried to pull her, it didn''t help. And suddenly there was a new sound. Louder, sharper, as if something metallic had fallen to the floor with a crash. The source of the noise was in the bedroom.


    Rick froze in place, feeling cold fear wrap around him like invisible chains. His fists clenched instinctively, but his palms were sweating, and he felt the bat he had grabbed from the doorway slip into his hands.


    "It''s just a coincidence. It''s nothing special," he told himself, but the words sounded fake. His feet carried him to the bedroom on their own, even though his mind was telling him to stop. Every step echoed loudly in the silence of the apartment, as if everything around was silent, waiting for the denouement.


    When he reached the door, its position looked ominous¡ªslightly ajar, as if someone had just walked inside. The darkness that was gathering in the crack seemed impenetrable, as if no light from the corridor penetrated there.


    "Hey, who''s there?!" Rick''s voice, harsh and full of tension, escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The reflected echo split the silence, but there was no response.


    Rick slowly reached out his hand and gently pushed the door open. It opened with a long creak, reminiscent of the sound of a knife sliding on a grindstone. A narrow beam of light from the hallway fell on the bedroom floor, outlining the bed and the closet next to it.


    He took a step forward, leaving the saving light of the corridor behind him, and pressed the switch.


    The light bulb flashed on, filling the room with yellow light. The bed was unmade, as he had left it in the morning. Everything looked in its place.


    But there was a metal object lying on the floor near the closet. It was a kitchen knife, the one he had kept on the table a few days ago, having forgotten to put it away. The knife obviously couldn''t have been here on its own.


    Rick came closer, bending down to pick it up. At that moment, he heard a strange sound¡ªa light, almost inaudible whisper, as if someone was nearby and watching.


    Rick whirled around. His heart began to pound in a frenzied rhythm. The room was empty.


    "Who''s there?!" he almost shouted, but his voice was lost in the oppressive silence.


    The only response was the slow, creaking movement of the closet door, which opened slightly, as if inviting a peek inside.


    The room remained empty, as before. No sign of an intruder. But his eyes immediately caught on one detail ¡ª his old gaming headset was lying on the floor next to the bed. The one he hadn''t used in a long time. It lay neatly, as if someone had put it there on purpose.


    "I definitely put it in the closet..." he whispered faintly, coming closer.


    As soon as he bent down to pick up the headset, the light in the room flickered and went out. In the blink of an eye, everything was plunged into darkness. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Rick froze, feeling the cold air fill the space around him. He sighed, trying not to panic, but his breathing became uneven and his heart began to pound in his chest.


    And then he heard. Breath. Quiet, slow. He froze, unable to move. The air seemed to constrict in his chest, his skin felt burning, and his heart was beating so fast that it seemed like it was about to burst out.


    "Who the fuck are you?" He managed to keep his composure. But his voice, instead of sounding firm, faltered, barely containing a panic attack.


    There was no response. However, the breathing continued, as if whoever was standing next to him wasn''t going to leave. Rick swore he could feel the warmth of someone else''s exhale on his neck.


    Unable to bear the horror, he whirled around, stretching his arm forward to strike with the bat, but there was no one behind him.


    At that moment, the light turned on again. The bedroom was the same as before. Silence. The headset was still on the floor. It looked as if nothing had happened.


    But Rick couldn''t shake the feeling that something was wrong. An aching feeling, as if the presence was still in the air, not letting go.


    He took a step forward, but instead of a solid floor, he felt only emptiness. Everything around him spun as if he had fallen into a funnel, and instantly his body was swallowed up by this invisible center. The torchlight faded, and the booming sounds that seemed to come from the very end of the world faded away. The wind that had previously carried the smell of snow suddenly turned icy, and his body was pulled down as if he were falling into an abyss.


    Rick tried to scream, but the sound stuck in his throat. He couldn''t even breathe, his chest was being squeezed by an invisible hand.


    The darkness was replaced by a blinding flash. He opened his eyes and found himself back in his room.


    The jolt brought him out of this nightmare. Rick jerked, breathing heavily, his eyes darting around the room in search of something familiar to calm his emotional storm. Everything was in its place: the computer, the chair, the bed. No strange sounds, no headsets on the floor.


    "Sleep," he exhaled, running a hand over his face, feeling cold sweat trickle down his skin. "It was just a dream."


    But for some reason, even this conviction was not completely certain. Anxiety continued to itch inside, as if the dream hadn''t ended after all.


    But his heart continued to pound, unwilling to calm down. It was beating with such force that Rick could almost feel the pulse in his temples, and a heavy, oppressive residue remained in his chest. It was all too real.


    He got out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and looked at his phone screen. The clock showed 3:47 a.m. There were no new messages or calls on the screen.


    But his gaze suddenly fell on the desktop, and there, in the very center, was a headset. She was still there, but something about her position seemed strange. The wire was neatly wound, although he remembered for sure that he had left it tangled.


    Rick walked over to the table and, as if in slow motion, picked up the headset. His fingers froze. There was a small scratch on it that definitely wasn''t there before.


    "It can''t be..." he whispered, his voice trembling with bewilderment and fear.


    The headphones fell out of his hands, hitting the table with a thud. Everything suddenly became unbearably real. This dream, this nightmarish reality, could not be just an accident.


    He stepped back, inhaling deep, cold air. He didn''t have the energy to think logically. He was just moving. I went to the window, pulled back the curtains to look at the night city, at this gray world that seemed so far away and safe. But there was a growing fire of anxiety in his chest.


    He sat down on a chair and opened the messages on his phone again. They were still empty. My fingers hovered over the key, not knowing who to write to or what to write to. Only chaotic thoughts were swarming in his head.


    "I need a distraction," he muttered, as if that helped him make some sense of this absurdity.


    Rick turned on the computer, hoping to distract himself with the game, but the screen flashed brightly instead of the usual menu. An inscription appeared on it:


    "Did you think it would end so easily?"


    His heart contracted, and a feeling of coldness froze in his chest. His breathing became heavy, and the words on the screen began to fade, replaced by a new phrase.:


    "This is just the beginning, Rick_silen."


    At that moment, it seemed to him again that cold, moist air touched his neck.


    Rick screamed, jerking violently, and finally woke up. He was ready for any nightmare, but everything was as usual in the room: the lamp''s light softly flooded the table, the headset was in its place, the wires were tangled the way he left them before the game.


    His chest was heaving, and his eyes still couldn''t focus. Rick ran his hands over his face, trying to process what was happening.


    "A dream... inside a dream," he whispered, not believing his own words.


    My eyes fell on the clock. 00:13 a.m. Earlier than in the "second" dream. He froze, trying to figure out how this was possible.


    Rick got out of bed and looked around the room. Everything looked normal: the noise of passing cars could be heard outside the window, the dim light of a street lamp penetrated from the window. Rick closed his eyes, trying to stop the throbbing pain in his head, which seemed to overshadow his thoughts. He didn''t remember falling asleep, but the feeling that those two hours were nothing only increased the oppressive feeling in his chest. All this¡ªthe nightmare, these strange, haunting shadows¡ªwere so familiar, as if they hid something more, something that he could not see. He rubbed his face with his palms, as if trying to shake out the remnants of sleep, but the more he tried to concentrate, the more he felt this strange feeling, like a shadow, envelop him.


    "A shadow? No, you''re just tired, Rick. Just a dream." He forced himself to push those thoughts away, but his body wouldn''t agree. It didn''t believe him. He was sitting in thought, trying to regain at least the illusion of calm, when his stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. This distracted him from his heavy thoughts, and he stood up, rubbing his neck irritably.

 Volume 1. Chapter 11. Night

    It had been days since he''d had a decent night''s sleep. The raids, the endless games, the tension that wouldn''t let go. He had long ago lost track of time. Especially after reverting back to his main character in the game, which seemed to have finally thrown him off balance. Slamming down his laptop, on which the game guides continued to spin, Rick headed resolutely to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, hoping to find at least something, but glancing at the shelves, he realized that he hadn''t paid attention to food in a long time. The only things on the shelves were two cans of soda and a couple of blackened bananas. "Yeah, well, what did I expect..." - he muttered, taking one banana from the shelf and staring at it intently, as if it was his last hope.


    Looking around his apartment, Rick realized that his daily life now depended a lot on his sister. Mika had left a couple days ago to visit a friend, and since then he''d been going about his strange routine, forgetting even the simplest things. Usually Mika brought food, took care of the house, but now... it was like he was stuck in his own closed world and didn''t leave the apartment at all.


    "How long has it been since I''ve been out of here?" - the thought hit him like a thunderclap. He paused, leaning against the desk and trying to estimate how many days it had been since he''d last set foot over the threshold. Rick suddenly realized how much he''d grown accustomed to her care, to the fact that she''d always provided for their home. And now - he felt like he was in a cage. In the last few days, except for the raids, he hadn''t done anything that could be called a normal life. Rick closed the fridge, pulled out his phone and quickly checked his messages. No news. An old message from Mickey flashed on the screen, "Don''t worry bro, I''ll be back tomorrow." - Simple and short. He read it twice, feeling a strange anxiety growing inside. But despite its strangeness, that worry somehow dissolved as soon as he remembered that everything would be back to normal, as it always was.


    Without wasting any more time thinking about it, Rick threw on his jacket and stepped into the darkness, walking past the empty rooms. The cold night air greeted him outside. Rick looked around the street - empty, engulfed in silence, only occasionally disturbed by the rare passing cars.


    It was so unusual to be standing on the street at this moment. Rick couldn''t remember the last time he''d been outside of his apartment. Everything around him seemed somehow... alien. He was so absorbed in the game that he hardly remembered that there was a world outside the screen. It was embarrassing to realize how confined he''d become, as if his reality now consisted only of virtual characters and night raids.


    "Geez, Rick, you''re a human being, not a piece of scrap metal after all," he said aloud to himself, and was surprised himself at how cringe-worthy it sounded. When he felt the cold under his fingernails, he quickened his pace, seeking some refreshment. He didn''t have to walk far - the night store was only two blocks away.


    Stepping through the threshold of the store, Rick felt the stark contrast to the street - the warmth, the smell of fresh food, and the soft lighting. It felt like home here, but with some strange distance. He had packed everything he needed, but he didn''t even notice how slowly the time dragged by. The air in this place felt like it was pulling him back to the apartment, back to his familiar closed reality. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    After paying for his purchases, Rick took another look outside. It was as if the whole world had frozen - the night, the silence, the snow and the empty streets. Again that familiar chill of fear squeezed his chest as a reminder that his familiar life had gone somewhere far away. He was like a trapped man, trapped in his own cocoon. His sister must be worried about him, even though she was gone.


    Yeah, something''s got to be done about that," Rick muttered, stepping over the threshold of the apartment with the bag in his hands. The frosty air was instantly replaced by a soft warmth that enveloped his body and slightly calmed his nerves. Placing the bag on the kitchen table, he began to sort through his purchases, pulling out the groceries and putting them in their places.


    Everything happened almost automatically, but somewhere in the back of his mind an elusive feeling crept in. Thoughts, like shadows, whispered about how shaky the line was between this familiar world and what he already thought was real.


    Sitting down at the table, Rick pulled out a banana and, as if it were the last piece of food in the world, began to chew it leisurely. His thoughts gradually calmed down, and the silence of the night around him became less and less unsettling. He no longer felt the cold tension that had gripped him a few hours ago.


    Pushing the banana aside, Rick looked tiredly up at the ceiling. Thoughts of nightmares, strange notifications, and the feeling of emptiness kept him busy. He wanted a distraction, and the solution came unexpectedly simple: why not spend the night watching anime? Sleep still seemed something unattainable.


    Settling down on the couch, Rick turned on his laptop and opened the platform with the long-awaited titles. His fingers leisurely flipped through the list until his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster. The mysterious title caught his eye, and in a minute the first episode was already loading.


    The plot was captivating at once: the characters seemed alive, the battles were tense, and the dialogues were apt. The time flew by, and the indicator on the screen showed that he was already on the third episode. The banana left on the edge of the table was soon replaced by sandwiches, and then by the last remnants of cola. The atmosphere of what was happening on the screen helped to get rid of anxious thoughts.


    The laughter and dynamics in the anime evoked long ago memories of friends who were once around. Those with whom plans were shared, strategies were strategized, and mistakes were laughed at. Shadows of the past flickered in the mind, but the plot took hold again.


    The clock on the screen showed deep night. Empty wrappers and packages began to surround the couch, but the next episode was already starting. My eyes were beginning to water from fatigue and my body was demanding rest. "One more, and that''s it," Rick whispered under his breath.


    He didn''t make it to the final episode, however. The soft light of the screen illuminated the room where the tired player was already quietly sleeping on the couch, covered in the remnants of the night''s snack. A half-empty bottle of juice remained standing on the table next to a pie box.


    Outside the window, dawn was barely beginning to break through the thick curtains, and the muffled voices of the heroes who were still fighting their battles continued to come from the speakers.


    It had been a long night, and Rick slept like a dead man, feeling neither the anxiety nor the fear that had plagued him for the past few days. Ever since he had reduced the amount of time he spent in the game, his regimen had begun to recover. The fatigue accumulated from endless raids and farming had finally receded, and sleep, though short, had become sound. Before, when he used to spend 16 hours a day online, his nights were filled with nightmares and restless awakenings. Now, thanks to his decision to reduce his gaming time to 10 hours, his body has begun to regain balance.

 Volume 1. Chapter 12. The Call

    Waking up, Rick felt a little better. Not perfect yet, of course, but at least he didn''t have that constant feeling of overload and fatigue that had plagued him before. He rubbed his eyes confusedly and got out of bed, trying to realize how long he''d been asleep. The clock on the nightstand showed 11:42 am. Strange, he hadn''t expected to sleep that long, but it was probably just what he needed.


    He stretched, feeling his body respond gratefully to the simple movement. There were still shadows from his nightmares in his head, but not as distinct as before. Midway through lunch, as Rick was halfway through picking at his fries and opening another video on his phone, the screen flashed. A new notification. A slight vibration sound caught his attention and Rick picked up his phone, frowning slightly. It was just a notification from an internet company, but what caught Rick''s attention was another message sent about ten hours ago, and it was from Sato.


    The text, terse and direct, made Rick stop.


    "Scarlet, why did you sleep so late? It''s not good for your health. Don''t ask, but I noticed you logged onto messenger at 2:34am. I don''t think you were playing at that hour. What were you doing? I''m curious."


    Rick stared at the message, feeling the tension begin to flare in his chest. The message had been sent at 2;36 a.m. Sato was accurate, even overly so, and such detailed awareness of his actions made it feel like someone was closely watching his every move.


    "Holy crap, is he even asleep?" - Rick muttered to himself as he internally tried to figure out how to react.


    "But why did he even notice the time?" - The thoughts swirled as Rick pondered how to answer. Sato was clearly used to being in control, and his caring tone, even if it seemed sincere at first glance, had an underlying subtext.


    Rick set his fork aside and ran his finger across the screen to open messenger. The reply had to be precise, subtle, perfect. Using the voice synthesizer, he spoke to hear the sound:


    - "Oh, my Sato, I didn''t think you''d notice. I just couldn''t sleep... Too many thoughts."


    The voice sounded soft, with a slight note of weariness. Just the way the sophisticated and mysterious girl behind whose mask Rick hides behind should speak.


    The voice message was sent, and Rick leaned back in his chair, waiting for a response. However, the phone responded with a vibration almost instantly.


    "Thoughts? You think too much, princess. You deserve rest, not sleepless nights. Would you like me to tell you a story every night to help you sleep? Or maybe you''ll admit what''s troubling your heart after all?"


    Rick froze for a moment, feeling the game getting more complicated. Sato was beginning to move from general concern to more personal questions, and it was both exciting and dangerous.


    Scarlet''s answer had to be tricky, leading away from specifics. But at the same time, it had to leave Sato feeling like he''d almost touched her secrets so as not to give the impression of avoiding him, especially after all his gifts.


    - "You care so much, it warms the soul. But my thoughts are too messy to lay them out right now. Maybe next time I''ll tell you.... if you''re as persistent."


    Rick sent the message and immediately closed his eyes, listening to the voice from the synthesizer. At that moment, his plan seemed to begin to take shape. Sato is a cunning and careful opponent, but even his curiosity can be turned into a weapon.


    The phone vibrated again. Sato answered faster than Rick expected, as if he had been sitting with the phone in his hands the whole time, waiting for a response. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Persistent? Hmm, do I look like someone who gives up? Scarlet, I''m not leaving you alone until you tell me. I may already know what''s bothering you, but I''d rather hear it from you in person."


    Rick took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the wordplay squeezing his chest harder and harder. Sato was clearly not the type to be easily confused or left unsatisfied with vague answers. Every phrase he spoke was like a blade piercing his defenses, forcing Rik to find more subtle ways to win this verbal duel.


    "Oh, you really think you understand me, Sato?" - Rick mentally grinned, starting up the synthesizer.


    - "You know, sometimes you''re too perceptive, it''s scary. But I''m not as simple as you might think. Sometimes my thoughts are too chaotic to read. But I appreciate your attention, it''s, uh. more than I can put into words."


    The voice that came out of the synthesizer sounded gentle, like barely a touch of silk. Rick himself was still amazed at times at how natural it seemed.


    Sato responded almost instantly.


    "Not so simple? Oh, that''s something I realized a long time ago. You''re the most puzzling puzzle I''ve ever encountered. But isn''t that the whole point? I''d spend all night long trying to figure you out. Scarlet, you''re worth it."


    Rick felt the corners of his lips quiver. Sato had a knack for not just capturing attention, but turning the situation around in a way that any other player would have found themselves completely captivated by his words.


    "Too good to be true. Or are you really what you want to appear to be?" - Rick thought, feeling the excitement building up inside.


    Another line appeared on the screen, but now it was accompanied by the offer of a voice call.


    "No, no, no, no, not again!" - In a panic, Rick quickly grabbed the synthesizer and checked the settings. The "answer" button was already pressed and the phone screen came to life, displaying Sato''s crystal-clear voice.


    - "Good evening, Scarlet. I hope I didn''t disturb your privacy?"


    Rick took a deep breath, trying to quell his inner panic.


    - "Sato, you know how much I appreciate peace of mind. But with you... it''s different. You always bring something... interesting."


    A second of silence on the line. It seemed Sato was pausing on purpose to make his interlocutor even more nervous.


    - "I''m glad you think so. Hopefully next time you''ll let me do more than just disturb your peace of mind."


    Rick bit his lip, trying not to give away his true state of mind. This game was getting deeper and deeper, and there was no getting out of it.


    - "What do you mean Sato by ''do more?" - Rick asked through the synthesizer. Sato was silent for a moment, as if weighing his words. There was a hidden subtext in his pause that Rick couldn''t immediately decipher. Then his voice came out, deep and calm, but with a slight note of provocation.


    - "Scarlet, you do realize that I''m not just talking about words. Sometimes actions say more than we dare to say."


    Rick tensed, trying not to betray confusion. "Damn, he''s playing, and playing masterfully," he thought, forcing himself to smile so it would be reflected in his voice.


    - "You''re a master of innuendo, Sato. But why don''t you be a little more direct? After all, it''s not every day I hear such cryptic suggestions."


    Sato laughed softly, but there was something both warm and wary in that laugh.


    - "Straightforwardness... it''s boring, don''t you think? If I just say I want to see you, hear you laugh, and maybe find out what''s behind your armor, you''ll think I''m ordinary. And I think you deserve more than banal confessions."


    Rick felt his heart beat faster. This game of intrigue was getting dangerous.


    - "Sato, you obviously love words. But I wonder if you''re hiding behind them. Maybe you''re afraid of being rejected?"


    This time Sato didn''t answer immediately. His words seemed to be carefully chosen.


    - "Rejection? Maybe. But with you... I''m willing to take the risk. Every risk in your case is worth it. Although... maybe I should give you a chance to make a move first. Or would you rather I take the initiative?"


    Rick, trying to maintain control, took a deep breath. The synthesizer gave off a voice full of softness and confidence:


    - "Let''s just say I''m not used to this kind of challenge. But maybe that''s what''s so interesting about it. So, Sato, it''s your move. Let''s see how brave you are."


    Sato smiled, and though Rick couldn''t see it, he felt it.


    - "Scarlet, you''re amazing. But I''m used to proving it with actions. Wait, and maybe you''ll realize that my courage knows no bounds."


    The call cut off, leaving Rick in silence. He leaned back in his chair, feeling the tension from the conversation begin to let go.


    "What the hell was that?" - he thought, looking at the phone. Sato''s every word was as if carefully calculated, like the moves of a skilled chess player. And now Rick realized that this game was just beginning, and it was going to be harder to get out of it than he''d anticipated.

 Volume 1. Chapter 13. The Gift

    It was well past 3:00 on the clock, and Rick was starting to get the urge to eat. All this tension, the constant thoughts about his plans and games, the sleepless nights behind the screen, the new account upgrades and perfect strategies for the game. It was all draining his strength and energy. His body was starting to pull treacherously towards the refrigerator, but suddenly there was a knock on the door.


    "Hmm, who the hell is that?" - Rick blurted out, and he irritably went to the door. He didn''t want anyone bothering him, but curiosity took over. He wasn''t expecting visitors. As he approached the peephole, he saw the same messenger, a guy in a yellow uniform, with ragged hair and tired eyes, as if he''d just run a marathon across town. The young man looked to be in his twenties, and his face was familiar to Rick. It wasn''t the first time this guy had been here.


    "What the hell?" - Rick muttered, squinting irritably. But immediately realized who was standing at his door. He already knew it had to do with Sato. The other one was always playing games, but his games were never simple. He was like a chess player who manipulated the pieces on the board, keeping everyone in suspense, and Rick was one of those pieces.


    Wasting no time, Rick promptly sprinted over to the voice synthesizer, turned it on and, adding softness and a bit of femininity to his voice, said: "Put everything on the floor, please."


    The courier, as usual, didn''t say a word. Just nodded and obediently left the heavy packages by the door, turned and walked away without looking back. It was so typical of Sato. He always stayed in the shadows, leaving only indirect traces, and his gestures were as anonymous as possible, keeping people guessing and worried.


    As the door closed, Rick sighed and looked at the packages. He realized that this was far from a coincidence. The food wasn''t just food. This was all part of some much bigger plan that Sato had obviously developed long ago. This was another one of his games, and Rick was no longer just a player. He was one of those who should have felt like he was in control of the situation. However, that wasn''t happening. Sato was always one step ahead, and Rick couldn''t help but feel that perhaps he was the one being manipulated. The phone rang again, Rick picked it up, Sato spoke first;


    - What''s up? Did the courier deliver the package? Enjoy


    Rick sighed, hiding his mixed emotions behind the synthesizer voice.


    - "You never cease to amaze me... But it''s still too much, Sato. You''ve bought them so many times. It''s embarrassing, really."


    A quiet, satisfied laugh sounded on the other end of the wire.


    - "Scarlet, awkwardness doesn''t suit a woman like you. You''re used to conquering the world, so take it for granted. Or do I have to ask permission to spoil you?"


    Rick froze for a second, trying not to give away his nervousness.


    - "No, of course not, but..."


    - "Then it''s settled," Sato interrupted her with a confident note in his voice.


    - "Sato, it''s too much," Rik said, turning on the synthesizer again.


    - "There''s no word ''too much'' for you," came the satisfied reply. - "You''re my princess, and I want you to feel that way."


    Rick froze for a moment. Sato''s words sounded so sincere that he couldn''t help but wonder what was behind the overprotectiveness. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    - "Okay, thanks," Rick finally replied, trying not to think too much. - "You always take such good care of me."


    - "Of course I do. But I''ve got to go, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself. And remember, I''m always here for you."


    The call ended. Rick sank tiredly to the floor, running his hand over his face.


    Afterward, Rick picked up the heavy packages and immediately realized - this wasn''t just for him. This was meant for a lot of people. It wasn''t just standard groceries inside. No. It was a selection that started from simple and cheap snacks and went all the way up to expensive, gourmet delicacies. Sato wanted to make a mark. He wanted Scarlet to feel that her life wasn''t just caught up in this game. She was part of something much bigger than he could have imagined.


    Rick began to sort through the package, his hands sliding through the packaging, opening each box, each bag. Inside were strange combinations - fried appetizers, chips, sushi, sandwiches, and even desserts that could have graced the menu of a five-star restaurant. And it was all perfectly packaged, as if the order had been placed especially for a special person. At this moment, as he looked at the food with interest, his thoughts stopped on one thing. Sato had once again demonstrated his ability to be invisible. But Rick, despite all his pride, couldn''t help but feel a sense of excitement. With each passing minute, his interest in what Sato was up to was only growing. There were thoughts of giving up on this game, though it was a pity for the character''s account at the time. Still, he immersed himself in it with every move, every sign left by Sato.


    "What''s he up to?" - Rick whispered, continuing to sort through the packages. Even though he knew this was just another act in a bigger game, he could still feel the game slowly drawing him in. Pushing away all anxious thoughts, Rick lowered himself to the floor, surrounded by boxes of food, and picked up the first thing that came to hand. It was hot chicken wings covered in an appetizing glaze. The fried aroma hit his nose, awakening a voracious appetite. He took a greedy bite, savoring the crispy crust and succulent meat. His apartment, usually quiet and almost lifeless, was filled at that moment with the sounds of rustling packages and the aromas of freshly cooked food.


    He didn''t even notice the door creak open, letting Mika in. Her energetic voice broke the silence:


    - Brother, I''m home! Are you still asleep, sleepyhead? Or, maybe, again in the game hung up? - She took off her jacket, threw it on a chair and looked into the living room.


    She smirked when she saw her brother sitting on the floor among the boxes, devouring his food.


    - Of course you are! It''s not sleep that makes you so happy. What kind of feast is this? Is Sato paying for you again? - Her voice was a mixture of mockery and familiar approval.


    Rick looked up and almost choked on her words, but quickly pulled himself together.


    - What if he did? He''s not stingy, you know. - He waved his hand toward the boxes. - Come on, join us before it gets cold.


    Mika sat down beside him, looking at the assortment with curiosity. Her gaze stopped at the delicately packaged dishes.


    - Huh, did he decide to please "poor Scarlet" this time? - she laughed openly as she opened a box of rolls. - Bro, he really believes that you''re her, doesn''t he? I mean, I realize you have talent, but sometimes I think he just enjoys the game itself.


    Rick shrugged, swiping an empty Coke can off the table.


    - He likes to think he''s an all-powerful benefactor. I''m just maintaining the illusion. And, honestly, you''re okay with that ''illusion'' yourself, right? - He pointed to her hand, which was already reaching for the second box.


    Mika didn''t deny it. Her face spread into a satisfied smile, and she immediately started eating.


    - Well, what can I say? His flavor is almost an art form. But you know, brother, sometimes I think he''s not so much interested in Scarlet as in the process. It''s like he''s not playing with you, but with himself, testing how far he can go.


    Rick nodded, considering her words. Perhaps she was right, but it seemed to him that there was more to Sato''s actions. More than just a game. It was like an elaborate dance in which both knew their roles, but neither knew the ending.


    - Anyway," Mika added, leaning on the table, "I know for a fact that as long as he orders us food like this, I don''t care about his motives. The important thing is that the rolls are fresh.


    Rick grinned, savoring the rare moment of warm comfort. The whole world seemed to have narrowed down to those boxes of food, their conversations, and the light laughter that filled the apartment. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the game wasn''t over. And if Sato was a master strategist, then Rick was going to be a worthy opponent.

 Volume 1. Chapter 14. Reminiscences: Part 1

    Rick grinned, savoring the rare moment of warm comfort. The world seemed to have narrowed down to those boxes of food, their conversations, and the light laughter that filled the apartment. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the game wasn''t over. And if Sato was a master strategist, then Rick was going to be a worthy opponent.


    Drinking his burger with a Coke, Rick leaned back in his chair, chewing the last bite with a slight satisfaction. But the thoughts, like pesky flies, kept him on his toes. He slowly stared into the void, letting the memories carry him back to where it all began.


    It was a long time ago, back when the name Silenus still meant something. The account, created from scratch, had become his calling card in the virtual world. Back then, Rick had played on what he considered to be the perfect team. They weren''t just fellow players - each of them felt part of something bigger, as if bound by invisible threads.


    But how did things change? At first it had been small bumps in the road - disagreements, doubts. Then something inside Rick began to crack, like old glass corroded by time. He remembered clearly the day he''d first thought: what if everything they''d built was just an illusion?


    Mika, sitting across from him, watched his pensive look with interest. She noticed that always recognizable expression on his face - lips slightly compressed, a look of detachment, as if he wasn''t here anymore.


    - Hey, are you even here? - her voice cut through the silence like a sharp knife. - Or are you back in your virtual world?


    Rick stirred, as if awake.


    - I''m here. Just... remembering.


    - Oh, the time when you were a great Silenus? - she grinned slightly, but there was more understanding than mockery in her eyes.


    - ''Exactly,'' Rick replied quietly, looking into his empty glass. - It was really... different. Everything seemed simpler back then.


    Myka nodded, realizing that there was more behind his words.


    - You know, you never really told me much. What made you leave?


    Rick looked at her, hesitating a little before answering.


    - Leave? It''s hard to say. I think it was me. Or all of it. I''m tired... of people betraying you without even realizing it.


    Her gaze grew serious, and she sat a little closer, pushing the box of potatoes aside.


    - You know I''ve always watched you, right? I''ve seen you change. But I never thought you could just, uh. let things go.


    He only grinned, remembering how those he''d considered friends had slowly but surely turned their backs on him. They cared more about wins and rankings than they did about the team and friendship.


    - Sometimes it''s better to be alone, Mika," he finally answered. - Less chance of getting hurt.


    She sighed, picking up the Coke bottle and waving it in the air.


    - But look, even alone, you''ve got me, and . this weird guy who provides us with food on a regular basis.


    Rick, hearing the mention of Sato, involuntarily smiled.


    - Yes, that strange type. I wonder what he''ll say if he finds out that his Scarlet is me, and that his fancy dinners for two we just share.


    - Well, I''d say his ego would explode," Mika laughed. - But let''s be honest: he delivers amazing wings.


    They both laughed, and in that moment the memories of the past, the shadows of old hurts and mistakes began to seem something distant, almost insignificant. Rick sank back into his thoughts. Memories, like ghosts, came to him uninvited, pulling him back into the past, where the era of hope and hard work still reigned.


    The year 2059. One year before the events that changed everything. Back then he was known as Silenus, one of the last remaining members of the Alpha guild. It was an era when the virtual world had absorbed millions of players, giving them the opportunity to build their empires and live within the fantasies that had become a reality of leaving the frustrating world of their own.


    "Alpha was once one of the most famous guilds on their server. Their accomplishments did not stretch across the entire game world, but within their territory they were the undisputed leaders. For all who played on this server, the name "Alpha" was synonymous with skill and strength. Their raids, while not the most ambitious on the world stage, were a model of strategy and discipline. They were the first to explore new dungeons, the first to obtain rare artifacts, and even in the most difficult situations remained a cohesive team.


    But over time, like everything in life, "Alpha" began to fade. At first it was small changes - those who once brought victories left. They didn''t leave the server, but their interests changed. Some found new guilds where they were more valuable, where new content or new ambitions could bring back their interest in the game. Others simply lost motivation and started playing for themselves rather than for something more.


    The guild members themselves were also beginning to feel the change. Constant updates to the game, changes in mechanics and balancing were draining them of their last strength. In addition, the pressure was increasing: new guilds were gaining popularity, and the old players, with each update, felt more and more tired, as if the world was no longer what it used to be. Gameplay that had once been satisfying was now increasingly becoming a chore.


    The guild continued to exist, but without the former brightness that had once compelled them to fight to the end. The battles became less meaningful, the victories less important. Even their most successful raids now looked more like automatic actions than actual feats. The guild hadn''t lost its power, but its soul was gone.


    The players who had once been the pride of Alpha began to leave the guild on their own, and while the guild was still afloat, it was no longer the living organism that had once inspired thousands of players. Its existence was now more of a memory of a great past than anything meaningful in the present.


    The remaining members tried to recreate that atmosphere, but they couldn''t. Because no matter how hard they tried to hold on to their former glory, the game was changing. And with each new move, the old leaders of the guild realized more and more that they would not be able to recapture the spirit they had before. "Alpha" as a symbol was gone, and only a shadow of its greatness remained.


    Silenus stood in the vast throne room. The majestic architecture, carved of marble and decorated with gold, had once glittered in the light shining through the stained glass windows. Now the hall seemed cold, devoid of life, and only the trophies and cups on pedestals reminded him of former triumph.


    He stood opposite the throne where life had once reigned - now there was emptiness. The massive throne, covered with engravings and symbols of their guild, regardless of time and devastation, stood in its place as an immutable monument to the past. This throne was the center of all conversations, all decisions, all ambitions. They had once sat here - his friends, his associates, his allies. And every meeting, every discussion was filled with emotion, enthusiasm, and heated arguments. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Back then, in the best years of Alpha, their voices sounded like a single powerful chorus, every word was like a weapon aimed at common success. They were brothers and sisters in arms, each of them putting their souls into the creation of this guild. They were supported by the strict but wise Leron, who always stood on the guard of morality, although he himself often liked to drink fatigue to the limit; Ranel, his right hand and friend, the cheerful soul of the company, who with her laughter dispersed any clouds on the horizon; Alice - magistress, whose intelligence and calmness more than once saved them in the most difficult situations. They were invincible, it seemed, when their forces united into one. This was their time, their home. It was the "Alpha" that was worshipped.


    But things were different now.


    The hall, which had once been filled with the sounds of discussions and plans, was now engulfed in silence. There was no Leron, no Ranel, no Alice. The throne where the greatest minds once sat now looked like an empty seat. The echo of footsteps was the only thing that broke this oppressive atmosphere. Every step echoed heavily in the empty hall, where once there had been orders, predictions, and jokes that had brought them all closer.


    "Where are they now?" He thought, feeling the weight of the memories. Leron left when he stopped believing in the meaning of this game. He was different from everyone else, and at some point he realized that the Alpha world was not what he aspired to. He was looking for something more, something real. Ranel, remembering every detail of their victories, left for his new guild, which promised more ambitious goals. Alice, whom he always respected for her calmness and clarity, also left their ranks when she could not find satisfaction in the constant changes of the game. They all went to a place where they could be understood, where they were appreciated.


    But despite all this, he continued to stand here, in front of the throne, in front of what remained of his former greatness. He couldn''t just leave. He couldn''t leave this guild, even though he knew its days were numbered. He was the one who stayed. Not because he believed that it was possible to regain his former greatness, but because a sense of duty did not allow him to leave. The guild became a part of him, as he was a part of it. He was connected with this place, with those people, with those moments that cannot be forgotten.


    But every time he looked at the empty throne, when he saw these symbols that once represented victory and strength, there was something heavy in his soul. He didn''t know what to do next. Leave? And leave it all behind? Or try to collect the remnants, find new people, new allies, and bring back at least a small part of what was once their greatness?


    Time passed, but the memory of those days still remained. About how Leron, with a serious face, proposed tactical changes in the last raid, how Ranelle, with her unchanging smile, constantly joked and created an atmosphere in which there was no place for anxiety, how Alice, quietly and judiciously, analyzed every step, protecting them from mistakes. These moments were here, in the air, in every step.


    "It was so easy to be a leader back then," he said softly to himself, peering into the empty space where his friends had once stood. It was a time when every day was full of tasks and goals. They moved forward with indomitable energy.


    And despite that, he stayed.


    Silence slowly looked around the room. On a pedestal against the wall stood their conquered relics: the trophy they received for destroying the dragon ruler, the cup for winning the inter-guild tournament, the banner of the first war, where Alpha established itself as a force to be reckoned with.


    Each of these things is not just an object. They were symbols of their work, friendship, and unity. And now they meant nothing.


    Rick ran his hand over one of the trophies, brushing away imaginary dust.


    ¡ª How did we get to this point? He muttered softly, more to himself than to the empty room.


    There was no response. Only silence, which became his only companion.


    He remembered the faces of his other friends, the guild members. Fenrir, their commander and first leader, who went to the "Grand Lions" in pursuit of ambition. Laria, their strategist, once said: "We''re too tired. This path will bring us nothing." And even Ash, the most loyal of them all, couldn''t stand it and left them when the guild started to collapse.


    Silent was left alone. This castle, these walls, these trophies¡ªthey were part of it. He felt that leaving them would be a betrayal.


    Rick sighed. The new recruitment to the Alpha Guild, once famous for its greatness, turned out to be a disappointment. It seemed that the deserted halls of the castle began to be flocked not by warriors eager for glory, but by random travelers who barely held a weapon. They did not know the team game, they did not understand the meaning of unity, which once made Alpha invincible. And the few who had the strength did not have the patience to work in a group, accustomed to acting only alone.


    Silent made every effort to restore the guild to its former glory. He made plans, trained newcomers, organized raids, but deep down he understood that this was a struggle against the inevitable. Alpha has long lost its place among the strongest. Once their name was heard on every corner, they were among the top 10 strongest guilds on the server. But now... they''ve dropped out of the hundred.


    Sitting in the council chamber, Silent looked at the empty chairs. Those who had supported him before were no longer there. Their place was taken by inexperienced and sometimes frankly useless players, each of whom hoped for personal gain, but not for a contribution to the common cause. The greatness of the Alpha remained only in the memories and awards that decorated the castle walls.


    Every conversation between these newbies was annoying to the limit. He got up heavily and walked across the hall. His footsteps echoed through the deserted corridors. Once upon a time, this castle was alive ¡ª there was laughter, arguments, and conversations about strategy. Now, even from the center of the main hall, one could hear the wind outside the building blowing away the last shreds of glory.


    Silent walked over to the wall where their trophies were kept¡ªartifacts obtained in battles, rare armor, banners of defeated guilds. They were silent witnesses of an era that was irrevocably gone. He reached for one of the cups, his fingers slid over the cold metal, and the faces of those who helped win this prize rose before his eyes. Their laughter, their words of encouragement, their desire to be the best... It all seemed like a mirage now.


    ¡ª I tried, friends. I really tried," he said softly, clenching his fist.


    But even that short sentence echoed off the walls, coming back to him like a mockery.


    A decision has been brewing for a long time, and now it has become inevitable. Silent will leave the castle before disbanding the new guild members. Anyway, sooner or later, an empty and weakened guild will lose ownership, and the castle will pass to another, stronger organization. Artifacts, cups, and trophies will return to his inventory as guild leader, but what do they mean without the people they were mined with?


    He looked around the room once more, trying to capture it in his memory. The castle was not just their mainstay ¡ª it was a symbol. A symbol of friendship, strength, and victories.


    ¡ª Goodbye, the house that we created together, ¡ª he said, stepping towards the exit.


    Massive doors closed behind him, cutting him off from the past. The wind lifted the dust, as if wanting to erase the last traces of their presence. And now, standing on the threshold, Silent took a step into the unknown. After walking through the clearing for a couple of hours, he stopped and sat down by a quiet lake, his reflection in the water surface seemed ghostly and uncertain. He rubbed his face with his hands, as if hoping to erase the accumulated fatigue.


    ¡ªHoly shit...¡ª he whispered, throwing a pebble into the water.


    The words were lost in the silence, broken only by the sounds of night crickets. Everything was stacked against him. Not only the guild, but his class itself seemed destined for extinction. A recent update literally clipped the wings of the assassins of his class, replacing mana with an endurance scale.


    This scale was replenished slowly, too slowly. This deprived them of their main advantage ¡ª the ability to strike blow after blow, without letting the enemy come to their senses. Now he had to calculate every step, every move, as if he were not a killer, but a chess player calculating the positions on the board. Everything seemed to be stacked against him.


    "What''s next?" he thought. It seemed to him that the developers had done everything to make his favorite class useless. If before he could track down a single target and hunt methodically, turning the whole process into an art, now it''s all ruined. In addition, the general debuff added oil to the fire. The killers became more vulnerable, less deadly, and their secrecy seemed like a pathetic illusion.


    At the same time, the riflemen and fighters received significant reinforcements. Now, those whom he had previously hunted down and destroyed in a matter of seconds could safely survive his attacks and even fight back.


    ¡ª Sure, why not make them even stronger? He muttered bitterly.

 Volume 1. Chapter 15. Memories:Part 2

    Silent clenched his fists, feeling the impotent rage boiling inside. He didn''t want to give up, but the whole world seemed to be pressing down on him. His sword, once sharp and deadly, now looked like a prop from an old play.


    Yesterday he could consider himself a virtuoso of his craft, but today¡­ He was nothing today.


    Silent stared at the water, still thinking, but now his thoughts were far beyond the current problems with the game. They were going back to a time when everything was different¡ªto a time when Wirsal Online was the epitome of perfection. Back then, the players respected the developers, and the game itself was perceived as a second home, an ideal world without flaws.


    But everything changed suddenly, like a lightning strike. The game''s creator, Marucho, a man of legend, has died. His death shocked not only the gaming community, but the entire world. A young genius who was not just a developer, but literally the father of this universe, died one fateful night. He was only 34 years old. The attack by a group of robbers, as the police claimed, ended in tragedy ¡ª stabbings and death on the spot.


    At that time, Silent, like millions of other players, could not believe it. The news broke the airwaves, the forums were filled with condolences. People who had never known Marucho personally were crying, as if they had lost someone close. Some wrote that for them he was not just a developer, but the creator of the world where they found solace and inspiration.


    But I didn''t have to grieve for long. Almost immediately, rumors began to circulate that his death could not have been an accident at all. It was said that one of the major players in the technology and gaming market decided to remove a competitor. The press fueled these speculations, calling the incident "suspicious." Silent didn''t believe the gossip, but one thing was clear: after Marucho''s death, everything started to change.


    The corporation that created the game seemed to have lost its soul. Anderson Maestro, a close friend of Marucho''s, was appointed to replace the president, according to officials. But anyone who watched the game couldn''t help but notice: The Maestro was completely different. Under his leadership, a policy of aggressive monetization began, and advertising appeared in the game for the first time.


    And although they tried to limit her after the massive outrage of the players, she was still present. Silent remembered logging into the game and seeing the banners pop up. It was like a spot on a blank canvas. There was nothing like this in the world of Wirsal before. Back then, it was an ideal digital world, free from the intrusive reality. Now it began to resemble an ordinary commercial product.


    "Everything has changed..." he muttered, looking at his reflection in the water.


    Advertisements, debuffs, ill¡ªconsidered updates - all this poisoned the very essence of the game, turning it into a shadow of what was created by Marucho.


    Anderson Maestro is... a close friend, Silent thought sarcastically. He couldn''t tell if he believed the conspiracy rumors, but his heart told him there was something wrong with the story.


    The most painful blow to the game was dealt by something that no one could have thought of before. In early August 2059, the corporation announced the introduction of a new monetization system. The first hints of the changes appeared in the official news: "We strive to provide players with more options to personalize the gaming experience!" Naive words that did not portend disaster back then.


    Silent, like most players, ignored this message. He was sure that we were talking about skins, new decorative elements, or some additional cosmetic features again. But everything changed when the update came out. Along with it, a new system called "Platinum Advantage" appeared.


    At first glance, everything looked harmless. Players could purchase special items or temporary powerups that "enhanced" the gameplay. But it quickly became clear that we were talking about things that affect the mechanics of combat itself. Additional damage, increased attack speed, reduced damage from enemies ¡ª all this could be obtained for real money. The balance of the game was destroyed in an instant.


    Silent remembered the day when he first saw a player with "platinum powerups". In an arena where a fair fight was always decided by skills and strategy, this man easily defeated all the opponents. Neither tactics nor experience mattered anymore. Money became the new weapon, and those who could afford it turned into invincible monsters.


    The player communities exploded. The forums were filled with complaints, petitions to change the mechanics were signed by millions. But the corporation remained deaf. They only saw income charts that went up sharply. Anderson Maestro even gave an official statement.:


    "We understand your concern, but we are confident that the new update adds depth to the game. Now every player has the opportunity to choose their own path to victory!"


    These words sounded like a spit in the face of everyone who loved this game for its honesty and equal conditions.


    For Silenus, it wasn''t just insulting. It was a betrayal. He built his career on a fair fight. He learned to read opponents, develop strategies, and make the most of his class''s capabilities. Now it all turned out to be unnecessary. What''s the point of skill if you can buy it? Sitting by the lake, he remembered his last fight before this update. Back then, he was fighting another assassin as skilled as himself. They exchanged blows, each calculating the other''s steps. It was an intense and magnificent match. Silent won, but not because of chance or money-he won because he was better.


    "And it''s all in the past," he whispered softly, feeling something inside him break.


    Now, he looked at the gaming arena and saw how the meaning of this fight had dissolved. Those who had been with him from the beginning were gone. The newcomers didn''t understand why a team game was needed if they could just pay for a victory. Old friends, those who had built Alpha with him, no longer logged into the game. Each of them found other activities, other games, or left the virtual world altogether.


    "We wanted to create a legend," Silent thought, looking at the water surface. But now it''s all become a farce. My thoughts drifted back to a recent event. The stadium in the game was bursting with the screams of the fans. The final of the tournament was an exciting sight, but for Silent it became an unbearable reminder of how far the game world has gone from its origins. The memories took him far back into the past again.


    At the regular weekly tournament, a new champion stood in the arena, surrounded by dazzling light, which was enhanced by the effects of his "platinum" equipment. Unlike the old heroes, who deserved respect for their skills and perseverance, this man was the epitome of a new order¡ªan order where the richest, not the strongest, win.


    Donater raised a huge trophy above his head, sparkling so brightly that it was impossible not to pay attention to it. He was enjoying the moment, reveling in the triumph. And suddenly, instead of a speech of thanks or words about a difficult victory, he burst into a scream that echoed throughout the virtual world.: This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡ª Well, have you eaten it, bitches?! Your era is over!


    The crowd froze for a second, and then there was a deafening roar ¡ª a mixture of indignant shouts and approving applause. The camera, which transmits the image to the streams of millions of viewers, lingered on Donater''s face. His expression was so smug that Silent felt his insides tighten.


    These words struck not only at the veterans, but also at the very essence of Wirsal, which once symbolized equality of opportunity and the struggle of honest players. This moment was the culmination of everything Silent hated about the new era. He stared at the screen with clenched teeth, his hands shaking with anger.


    "This is what it means to be a champion now..." he gasped, realizing that this cry was addressed to him as well, as one of those who clung to the old era.


    This statement became a symbol of the gap between the old and new schools of players. It caused a storm of emotions, debates on forums, memes and long discussions about where the game is heading. But for Silent, this moment was not only humiliating, but also a personal challenge.


    Has his era really passed? Or is there something else you can change?


    The defeat at the tournament was just the beginning of a long series of scandals. The apotheosis of all this was the battle in the Ashar Valley


    The platinum system was tearing the game world apart. At first it was just annoyance, then it was open hatred. The players who had once fought side by side for common goals now looked at each other with disdain. Top guilds, average players, and beginners ¡ª no one was spared by this wave.


    A scandal broke out in the Blade of Dawn Guild, known for its discipline and cohesion, which marked the beginning of the end. At the next meeting, their leader, Commander Alterius, addressed his colleagues with a stern expression on his face.


    "We''re not here to play games. We built this guild on honesty. Each of you went through hell to earn your place," he cast a hard look at Martell, whose armor shone with a platinum light. ¡ª And you decided to just buy yourself a victory?


    Martell crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze full of challenge.


    "Bought it?" Do you call that honesty? When have I been defeated for months because of a poor balance sheet? Now that I have the means to get ahead, do you want to condemn me?


    "It''s not a game, it''s a sale," Alterius snapped. "You''re insulting everyone standing here."


    The hall exploded with arguments. Some supported Martell, arguing that everyone has the right to use the available tools. Others, like Alterius, felt that it destroyed the very essence of the guild. Soon, the secretary''s voice rang out:


    ¡ª Let''s vote. Who is in favor of expelling Martell?


    Most of them raised their hands. And on the same day, Martell left the Blade of Dawn. But instead of accepting it, he created his own guild, the Platinum Sunrise. He was joined by other donors who were also expelled or shunned in their teams.


    The average level of players (the majority of players), who did not have the same resources as the top players, reacted even more violently. On the popular game''s forum, thousands of messages merged into endless streams.:


    ¡ª These donors are just buying a victory!


    ¡ª Yes, ban their reinforcement in tournaments already!


    "No respect. Not a drop.


    On the other hand, there were excuses:


    "You''re just jealous!"


    ¡ª If you don''t know how to play, leave. Who stopped you from donating?


    The gaming community is divided. The "black lists" began ¡ª the nicknames of players with platinum powerups were added to them. Raids with such people were boycotted, and invitations to groups were ignored. Former friends became enemies, and donors faced open harassment in the arenas. Teams of ordinary players huddled together just to humiliate one platinum player.


    But the donors did not stay away either. They began to form their alliances from the same platinum players, creating territories where no one from the outside could enter. Within these unions, their own clans and guilds grew, where the platinum ruled unchallenged.


    The platinum system even severed personal relationships. One day, a scene played out in a tavern where the players were gathering, which became a meme among the community.


    "We started out together," said a player in armor with traces of many battles. His voice was trembling. "And now you''re one of them."


    "So what?" His former partner replied calmly, shining with platinum blades. ¡ª You just couldn''t adapt. It''s not my fault.


    "You sold yourself!" ¡ª the first one shouted, angrily clenching his fists. "You are no longer worthy of our respect.


    After this conflict, both left the tavern, and no one else saw them together.


    And somewhere in the developers'' headquarters, the game''s director, Anderson Maestro, was reviewing the reports. The profit growth was staggering. His face remained stony while the staff discussed the next update.


    ¡ª Mr. Maestro, ¡ª said one of the analysts, ¡ª the indicators continue to grow, but ... the popularity of the game among older players is falling. Reputation goes into negative territory.


    The maestro slowly raised his gaze.


    ¡ªDoes it matter?"


    There was silence. He threw the reports on the table.


    ¡ª Money speaks louder than any forum.


    So they decided to release even more platinum items. Meanwhile, pressure on donors was increasing in Ikrad, they were expelled, beaten, and shunned from everywhere. For the donors, it was a real blow below the belt. None of them, even those who sincerely considered the platinum system to be a worthy development of the game, could have imagined that their world would be turned upside down. They came to this universe to enjoy its scale, to become heroes or even legends. But now they are on the verge of exile, like outcasts in a world that once welcomed them with open arms.


    At first they tried to justify themselves. Forum posts, angry comments, and attempts to open the eyes of other players: "It''s not our fault! It''s all the developers!" They begged to be understood, claiming that they were only using the available tools like any other players. But the world didn''t want to hear them.


    Blacklists appeared on the forums. "Careful, platinum ones!" the themes read. Players seen with platinum items or powerups were publicly branded and their nicknames were recorded in the database so that no one else would dare to take them into the group. It was the beginning of the end for the donators'' usual life.


    In the raids, everything escalated to the point of absurdity. When the platinum player joined the group, no one said anything directly. But as soon as the battle began, everything became obvious. The healers stopped treating them, leaving them to die in the thick of the battle. The tanks deliberately diverted the enemies towards them, making them the main target. And then, when Donater died, the whole group either abandoned the raid or moved on, pretending that nothing had happened.


    In one of these raids, Donater, known as Argemont, realized the depth of self-contempt. He was a powerful mage whose platinum staff allowed him to destroy enemies with waves of fire. In the midst of a boss fight, he felt his health start to plummet.


    ¡ª Treat him! Treat me, damn it! ¡ª he shouted into the chat. But there was no response.


    Soon after, he saw his health reach zero, and then the familiar "You have been defeated" appeared on the screen. When he returned to the rebirth site, the group''s chat was bursting with sarcasm:


    ¡ª Well, one less "rich".


    "You can handle it, right?" You have "platinum power".


    Argemont withdrew from the group and did not return to this raid. But his story was not unique. This was happening everywhere. Donors were purposefully squeezed out of teams, their quests were sabotaged, and sometimes they were even simply attacked in the open world, setting up whole hunts.


    It was a world filled with hatred and contempt. But the donors were not fools. They understood that they had money, and that money was power. They began to regroup, forming their own guilds and alliances. The first such guild, Platinum Sunrise, became a symbol of their pride. Their motto was simple: "Strength does not require apologies."


    Those who refused to be humiliated began to gather around this guild. They built fortresses where ordinary players had no place. They were developing strategies to regain their dominant position. After all, they had the resources to create the strongest characters, even if they were hated.


    But with every move they made, the world of the game became more hostile. Ordinary players began to form alliances to resist the donors. They wrote on the forums:


    "We can''t let them destroy our world!"


    "This is a war, and we can''t lose!"


    It was at this point that the game reached its boiling point. A secret meeting was held at one of the fortresses belonging to the Donater guild. Argumentus, now one of the leaders of the Platinum Sunrise, turned to his colleagues:


    "They think we''re weak. They think we''re just buying our own power. But we will show them that money can create not only power, but also order.


    "Are you suggesting an attack?" Another mage, wearing a platinum robe that sparkled in the torchlight, asked him.


    - no. We will create our own game. Do they want war? We will give them a war.


    With these words, a new era began, in which both sides ¡ª donors and ordinary players ¡ª were preparing for the inevitable clash.

 Volume 1. Chapter 16. Exile

    After being driven out of the lands where they were persecuted, the Donaters united, deciding to start from scratch. They left the bustling cities and inhabited territories, going to the wild, abandoned corners of the world. There, in the wastelands where the wars of the ancient guilds once raged, they began to build their own fortifications. Their wealth, accumulated through the platinum system, became the basis for a new civilization, built with grace and pragmatism.


    Majestic fortresses surrounded by powerful walls and armed garrisons began to grow on the site of lonely ruins and dilapidated castles. The donors used their powerups to easily clear the local lands of monsters and establish resource extraction. They had the best architects, rare drawings bought for fabulous sums, and, most importantly, a huge amount of gold.


    At one of these meetings, held in the hall of the newly built Platinum Citadel Castle, their leaders gathered around a round table. The emblem of their union flashed on the central panel of the table: a platinum circle with a sword piercing its center.


    "We were exiled,¡ª said Argemont, the leader of the Platinum Sunrise Guild. His voice was firm, and his cold blue eyes scanned the room. "They left us with no choice. We could have stayed and suffered humiliation, but is this the way of those who consider themselves strong?


    ¡ª no! ¡ª it was heard from the back of the hall. One of the people gathered, a warrior in shining armor with embossed gold patterns, slammed his fist on the table. "We created this world with them. We funded the game when many people were just enjoying the free benefits. But now they call us outcasts, not realizing that it was our money that allowed this universe to reach its heights.


    "And yet,¡ª Argemont continued, raising his hand for silence, "we must not seek revenge. For now. Our enemy is too numerous, and our image is too vulnerable to propaganda. We will show them true strength not in anger, but in order. We will create a new world that they will be forced to recognize.


    Everyone froze, realizing that it wasn''t just an idea. That was the plan. The new order.


    Fortress after fortress, their cities grew. They weren''t limited to just accumulating power. The donors understood that survival requires strategy. Forges were opened on their lands, working around the clock. Hired workers created items that could compete with the rarest drops from the raids. They''ve been improving their technology, hiring the best programmers to modify interfaces and develop combat algorithms.


    On one of the outskirts of the platinum lands, a huge training camp was busy. Dozens of players have honed their skills by learning from mentors who used to be members of the world''s top guilds. They didn''t care what the regular players said. Here, in these lands, it was not the disputes that mattered, but the results.


    ¡ª Blow! Faster, sharper! The mentor shouted, watching a group of newbies practicing combo attacks.


    ¡ª You have to be machines when the time comes. Without pity, without a doubt," he added, giving them a hard look.


    Those who did not have time to master complex maneuvers could count on the support of their platinum powerups. But even this did not free them from tough training.


    The meetings of the leaders continued. Now the donors lived not only in isolation, but also with plans for the future. The discussions reached a critical point in one of the halls.


    "We can''t hide forever,¡ª said Barlius, the leader of the other guild. ¡ª If we want recognition, we must come out of the shadows.


    ¡ªEarly,¡ª Argemont replied, leaning forward. ¡ª Let them keep fighting each other. Let them weaken. When they realize that fighting for their ideals is pointless, we will come with our order.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Barlius was not convinced, but he understood that Argemont was not inclined to make decisions on impulse. They were waiting in the wings.


    ¡ªTime is on our side," said the magus in scarlet robes, who was sitting to the side. "Their hatred of us is the fuel for our power. And when we come back, it won''t be revenge. This will be a transformation.


    Thus began a new chapter in the history of the platinum society. They did not seek revenge so early, but dreamed of power. And now, beyond the walls of their fortresses, their enemies were beginning to realize that the wastelands were no longer as desolate as they seemed.


    The events that followed the expulsion of the donators developed slowly but inexorably, like a gathering thunderstorm. At first, the players who remained in the regular guilds felt relieved. The world seemed to have been cleansed of those they considered "parasites" of the system. The return to fair play has become their new banner. However, the euphoria did not last long.


    The first rumors began to spread in the chat of small guilds.


    "Did you hear that?" The caravan of the Golden Blade was defeated.


    "Again?" This is the third week in a row!


    ¡ª They say that this is the work of donors. We saw a squad in platinum armor that just burned everything to the ground.


    At first, they didn''t believe it. Many believed that this was just another bluff or local raiders pretending to be donors for fear. But then the evidence came out. Screenshots of attacks, recordings of battles, where players in shining armor stood in the first rows, which could only be obtained through the platinum system. These were not just detachments¡ªthey were an army that was led with frightening precision.


    "They''re back..."


    These words started flashing in all the chat rooms. First in a whisper, then louder. The players, who had recently celebrated the "purge", now began to feel anxious.


    Somewhere in the mountains, in a remote fortress of the Donaters, Argemont, the leader of their new alliance, stood on a balcony, watching the training. Below, dozens of players were honing their movements, and their coordination was impeccable. The warriors moved as one, like one giant machine, each part perfectly synchronized.


    Barlius, one of his closest advisers, approached him.


    "Argemont, our raids are starting to attract too much attention. How long are we going to keep going?


    Argemont slowly turned around, his face remaining calm, like a carving on a statue.


    ¡ª These are not just raids. It''s a message. They should know we''re here. They should be afraid of us.


    Barlius frowned, his voice quieter.:


    ¡ª But they are starting to gather forces. Several guilds have already joined together to organize retaliatory strikes. They are not as weak as we would like to think.


    Argemont smiled, but it was a cold, almost predatory smile.


    ¡ª Let them collect. They don''t understand that our resources are limitless, and our discipline surpasses their chaotic alliances. If they attack, we will break their will. And if they don''t attack, they will die slowly, one by one.


    At the other end of the map, in a small settlement, a group of adventurers were discussing the latest developments. Among them was Gard, an old veteran who had been through dozens of wars, and a young archer named Kaylan, who was just starting his career.


    "These platinum bastards think they can come back and take everything we''ve built!" Gard growled, slamming his fist on the table. "I will not tolerate being kept in fear again."


    "But what can we do?" Kaylan asked cautiously, his voice filled with doubt. "They have armor, they have weapons, they have... everything.


    Gard looked at the young archer, his gaze heavy.


    "They have everything but one thing. They don''t have our spirit. We are not fighting for gold, but for honor. This is something they will never understand.


    But even Gard knew that these words sounded more to maintain morale. Deep down, he understood that spirit and honor might not help if your enemy could literally buy his invincibility. And even the availability of skills is not enough here.


    Meanwhile, the donors continued to gain strength. Their armies trained in the most remote corners of the map, preparing for something more. There was an order in their ranks that ordinary players lacked. Each new day brought them closer to their main goal: to show the world that those they called "outcasts" were actually the new elite.


    Active work was underway around the platinum citadel. Donors bought resources, built new fortifications, and hired professionals to improve their combat algorithms. Their plans were ambitious, and their leadership was impeccable.


    When the message about the new donater attack reached the main chat, many players froze.


    "They''ve struck again. This time it was a city in the Teira Valley.


    "Losses?"


    "Total annihilation. No one survived.