The soft sound of footsteps echoed around me, barely audible over the oppressive silence of the mist-choked forest. My heart pounded as I turned in slow circles, scanning the dense fog. Then, they appeared—gleaming red eyes piercing the haze, unblinking and eerily still. One pair became two, then three, then many. It was clear now: I was surrounded.

A notification flashed on my HUD:

"Guardians of the Wood"

Below it, a massive HP bar stretched across the screen, spanning what felt like the length of my vision. My grip tightened on my blade as I took a defensive stance. The air grew heavier, the silence thickening with unspoken malice. Suddenly, an arrow shot from the mist, whistling toward me. Instinct took over—I dodged to the side, the arrow embedding itself in the dirt where I’d stood moments ago.

Then, it stepped forward.

From the mist emerged a figure—an elf, but not like any I’d seen before. Its glowing red eyes glared with cold malice, and its features were twisted in a way that betrayed its origin. The Guardian brandished a blade, its movements unnervingly fluid as it lunged at me. Our steel met with a deafening clash, sparks lighting the mist as I parried its strike. Its strength was impressive, but I was stronger. With a sharp counter, I drove my blade through its chest, and the Guardian crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The massive HP bar on my HUD dropped, a small chunk carved out.

They didn’t retreat, but they hesitated. The mist swirled around them as if alive, hiding their forms until they were ready to strike. Then came the arrows—several this time, raining down in rapid succession. I activated Light Step, my movements swift and silent as I wove between the incoming projectiles. The sharp crack of arrows embedding into the ground echoed around me, each near-miss heightening the tension.

Were they invisible until they attacked? Or was the mist itself part of their design? There wasn’t time to puzzle it out.

Two more leaped from the haze, their blades flashing in the pale light. I pivoted, my sword catching one mid-air before driving into the other. Their bodies fell, dissipating into dark particles as the HP bar on my HUD chunked down further. It was progress, but not enough to make me feel safe. The mist seemed to shift in reaction, drawing closer, thicker, and more suffocating.

Then, the HP bar vanished altogether.

The mist began to thin slightly, revealing the gnarled forest around me. Twisted roots clawed out of the ground like skeletal hands, and the trees loomed like watchful sentinels, their branches tangling overhead. I scanned the area, my blade still drawn, my instincts screaming at me not to lower my guard.

This place reeked of danger. Misty woods in games like this were always bad news—a breeding ground for ambushes, curses, or worse. Yet here I was, right in the thick of it.

I knelt to examine the ground where the Guardians had fallen, but there was no trace of their presence—no dropped items, no loot, not even a disturbance in the earth. The forest seemed to reset itself, the unnatural silence creeping back in.

A faint rustling caught my attention, barely audible over the sound of my own breathing. My eyes darted toward the noise, but there was nothing there—just more mist. I stood, every nerve on edge, and slowly began to move forward. My footsteps felt unnaturally loud, the oppressive quiet amplifying every crunch of dead leaves beneath my boots.

The further I went, the thicker the mist became again, coiling around me like a living thing. Shadows flickered at the edge of my vision, and though I saw no eyes this time, I felt the weight of unseen gazes. The Guardians were gone, but something else lingered. Something worse.

I tightened my grip on my blade, taking a slow, steady breath. Whatever was ahead, I’d deal with it. But in a place like this, confidence could turn into arrogance. And arrogance would get me killed. I hadn’t died in this game—not yet, anyway. I’d come close more times than I cared to count, but somehow, I always clawed my way out. Bitter defeat wasn’t something I was ready to taste.

After pressing on through the forest, I stumbled across a small, long-abandoned campsite. A few weathered logs formed makeshift seating around a fire pit filled with cold, gray ash. The sight was oddly comforting in this relentless landscape. When I sat down, a notification flashed across my HUD:

"Log Out Available"

It caught me off guard. Normally, you only got this option in safe zones like taverns or designated rest areas, but I wasn’t about to question it. My body ached from the tension, and my mind was fried from the constant vigilance. I hit the Log Out button and pulled off the headset. The game dissolved into darkness, replaced by the dim light of my apartment.

Stretching my stiff neck, I leaned back in my chair, trying to shake off the lingering unease of the Forest of Eternal Sleep. That’s when my phone buzzed, its sharp tone cutting through the silence.

“Hello?” I answered, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Nice work on that Ascended,” came the clipped, no-nonsense voice of Sato. “The results weren’t exactly what we were hoping for, but you got them faster than expected.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

I could hear the faint hum of machinery on her end of the line. She was probably in one of those stark, sterile labs she seemed to haunt. Her tone, as always, was clinical, detached—like the fact that some kid would never see again didn’t even register as a blip on her moral radar.

“The cops raided our mutual friend,” she continued, her words cold and efficient. “Didn’t find much—just an empty apartment and a pile of ramen cups stacked in the middle of the floor. The investigation continues.”

So, he’d bolted. Smart. If I’d been him, I’d have done the same.

“You tipped them off?” I asked, leaning forward, my voice low. “Logical move, I guess. But now what? All you’ve done is smoke him out. We’re no closer to figuring out how to reverse the code on these Ascended units—or stop the corrupted headsets from frying people’s brains.”

Sato’s silence lingered for a moment, a calculated pause. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

“This isn’t about stopping it,” she finally said. “Not yet. It’s about gathering data, testing hypotheses. That’s the only way we’re going to—”

“And how many more ‘tests’ are going to leave kids blind?” I snapped, cutting her off. “If these Ascended are just glorified guinea pigs, then say it. But don’t pretend you’re doing this for the greater good. We both know that’s not your priority.”

Her tone sharpened, losing its veneer of calm. “You think I like this? You think I want more casualties? I’m working with what I’ve got, and what I’ve got is a labyrinth of corrupted code with no map to navigate it. You want answers? Then maybe don’t shoot down the only people trying to find them.”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. This wasn’t going anywhere productive. “Look,” I said, forcing my voice to steady, “if you’re so determined to keep this under wraps, why not post something on the forums? Say the headsets have corrupted code in their cooling systems and can overheat. A warning like that might keep a few people from getting hurt.”

Sato let out a dry, humorless laugh. “You think that’ll work? Pleading to fragile egos on some forum? Half the players will brush it off as a scare tactic. The other half will see it as a challenge. You know how these communities are. They’ll just dive in deeper, looking for exploits and glory.”

She wasn’t wrong. Gamers had a knack for turning warnings into dares. But sitting around waiting for the next victim didn’t sit right with me either.

“So what then?” I pressed. “We just keep watching this nightmare unfold and hope the answer magically drops into our laps?”

“No,” she said, her voice chillingly calm now. “We find the people who started this. And we make them fix it—or make them pay.”

The line went dead before I could respond. Typical Sato—always leaving me with more questions than answers. I stared at my phone, then back at the headset on my desk. The game’s twisted world might’ve been digital, but the consequences were very real.

And I was starting to wonder if I’d already stepped too far in to turn back. I couldn’t dwell on the chaos of Floor 60 for too long. As tempting as it was to farm experience there, I logged out for the night. Survival came first, and exhaustion wasn’t a stat I could afford to max out. By the time 6 p.m. rolled around, I was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through forum posts about the Ascended. That’s when I heard a sharp knock at the door.

Grabbing a weighty wrench from the toolbox by the entryway, I checked the door camera. A strange-looking guy stood outside—unkempt, tall, with a patchy beard—and standing next to him was Mira.

I cracked the door open, the wrench in hand just out of sight. Before I could say anything, the man spoke, his voice smooth but familiar.

“Hey, hotshot.”

I narrowed my eyes. That smirk was unmistakable. “Blazer?” I asked, before shaking my head. “No—Takashi. What the hell are you doing here?”

He laughed, casually leaning against the doorframe like we were old friends catching up at a bar. “Figured we’d check in. Mira said you might want some answers about those Ascended players. We’ve been digging.”

“Digging?” I arched an eyebrow, stepping aside to let them in. Takashi wasn’t the kind of guy to show up uninvited unless he had something worth saying. He and I went way back to the Royale Online days. He was an engineer for a massive car factory, one of those guys who always managed to be smarter than he looked.

“Yeah,” Mira chimed in, kicking off her boots and flopping onto my couch like she owned the place. “Floor 61 is where those Ascended players gather. And get this—apparently, they go there to ‘Receive the Wisdom of the Ancient God.’”

I snorted. “Let me guess—some cult roleplay nonsense?”

Takashi shrugged, crossing his arms. “It’s either that or they’ve bought so deep into the RP that their minds are starting to blur the lines between the game and reality. Either way, it’s messed up. Half of these kids are so wrapped up in it they’d probably burn their own headsets out willingly.”

The mention of headsets made my stomach turn. I glanced at Takashi. “Sato called me again earlier. Congratulated me—if you can even call it that—on the kid who got his eyes burned out. Have you two figured out anything else?”

Mira shook her head. Takashi let out a heavy sigh. “Not much. Just rumors. Ascended players who stay in too long start showing signs of, uh… detachment. Less irl activity, more fixation on ‘the game world being the real world.’ Sound familiar?”

I nodded grimly. It was all starting to line up in a way I didn’t like.

Switching gears, I asked, “Takashi, what floor are you grinding now?”

A smug grin spread across his face. “I’m on Floor 80,” he said, clearly thinking he had me beat.

“Then you passed through Floor 60. The forest, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin fading. “Be careful in there. There’s a PK guild that camps the area.”

Great. Another bunch of fun-suckers ruining the game. “You run into them?”

“Nah,” Takashi said. “They’re sneaky. They like to use the mist to ambush people. And trust me, it’s not just the guild. The Guardians of the Wood are bad enough on their own.”

I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “The Guardians. Did you fight them?”

He nodded, his expression darkening. “Yeah. Two of them came out of the mist. Creepy bastards with glowing red eyes. You take them down, and they just… vanish. It’s scripted, I think. Pretty clever design. Makes the player feel on edge, like something’s stalking them in the fog. It’s no wonder that PK guild camps there—it’s the perfect setup to scare players into panicking.”

“What’s the guild’s name?” I asked, already running through potential counters in my head.

“Slayers, I think.”

“Creative,” I muttered sarcastically. “They use the mist to snipe other players, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Takashi confirmed. “If you’re heading back to Floor 60, you’d better watch your back. They’re opportunists. And if they see you alone, you’ll be their next target.”

I glanced at Mira, who gave me a wry smile. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full, hotshot,” she said, echoing Takashi’s earlier greeting.

"If they come after me they will learn the hard way. After floor 60 where is the next safe zone" I asked

"65" said Takashi

"Good. Right I'm going to eat and go get some sleep. A long day tomorrow and a long day of grinding" Mira and Takashi left me to my devices. Floor 61 was now going to be my goal, these kids would have to learn the lash of defeat or perhaps somehow I'd figure something out.