The air in Greymire clung thick and heavy, smothering. Ellie felt it settle over her like a second skin, damp and oppressive. The town’s attention had become a living thing, a force with weight, winding tighter around her with every step. She could almost feel their eyes—hundreds of unseen gazes pressing against her, holding her captive to a lie that wasn’t her own. Somewhere, somehow, the idea had taken root. She was someone important. Someone powerful.

The rumor had spread like rot—fast, silent, and insidious. And now, it had consumed the truth entirely. Every whispered retelling, every embellished tale had twisted the image of her into something unrecognizable.

“Just keep your head down, Ellie,” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the noise of the morning square. “Just one more day. You can make it through one more day.”

But the whispers followed, insistent and feverish, like wind through dry leaves. Names floated in the air around her—her name—attached to wild stories of feats she had never imagined, much less accomplished. They had made her into a legend before she even understood how it happened.

“Gods above,” she thought bitterly, her heart thrumming against her ribs. “Can’t they see? I’m not one of their heroes.”

She wound her way through the square, her stomach tight with anxiety. She wished she could vanish, dissolve into the shadows and leave behind the weight of their impossible expectations. But the closer she came to the looming guildhall, the more suffocating it became, like an invisible shackle tightening around her neck.

The wooden doors groaned as she pushed them open, the sound cutting through the low murmur of conversation inside. The hall was alive with adventurers, clustered in small, boisterous groups, their voices sharp with competition and ego. There was something off today—a subtle edge to the air. The normal hum of activity had a new undercurrent, a tension that hadn’t been there before.

Ellie kept to the edges of the bar, trying to melt into the shadows, but the moment her boots hit the creaky floorboards, she felt it: the shift. A dozen heads turned, their eyes settling on her like vultures circling prey.

“Ellie!”

Guildmaster Hargrave’s voice boomed across the room, cutting through the din like a blade.

She froze. Her blood turned to ice, a sharp, cold sensation creeping up her spine. She could feel the weight of every gaze lock onto her. Hargrave’s grin, broad and unrelenting, pulled her forward like a hook in her chest.

“Over here, girl! Don’t be shy!”

Her heart sank, and though every instinct screamed for her to flee, Ellie found herself walking toward him. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the floor beneath her were made of stone. Hargrave sat at the far end of the bar, a sprawling map spread out before him. His bulk dominated the space, casting a shadow over the parchment. His eyes, however, gleamed with an unsettling light.

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“Good to see you,” he said, his tone too familiar, too knowing. “You’ve been making waves, Ellie. Word’s spreading—hell, the whole region’s buzzing about you.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her throat tight. “It was nothing,” she murmured, eyes darting to the map. The lines on it blurred before her. “The others did most of the work. I just—”

Hargrave’s laughter cut her off, a booming sound that drew more attention than she wanted. A few adventurers turned to glance in her direction, their eyes alight with curiosity and something else—something dangerous.

“Luck, is it? Modesty’s fine, but you can’t hide behind it forever,” Hargrave said, leaning in as if sharing a secret. His voice dropped lower, edged with amusement. “Folk want to see what you’re made of. There’s talk of you handling solo jobs now—missions that require someone of your... talent.”

Her stomach lurched. “Solo?” The word felt foreign, wrong.

He tapped the map with a thick, calloused finger, tracing jagged lines that led to places she had only heard of in passing. His voice softened, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t. “No more small jobs, Ellie. These are missions that only you can handle. There are expectations now.”

Her pulse quickened, panic clawing at her insides. “I’m not—” She could hardly get the words out. “I’m not what they think I am.”

Hargrave grinned, an expression that sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh, I know what you’re doing. Playing it smart. Keeping a low profile to throw off the competition. But you can’t stay in the shadows forever. Not when people are clamoring for you.”

He gestured to the map, his finger landing on a distant, forbidding land—jagged mountains, cursed forests, places that even veteran adventurers avoided. “This is your next step. These jobs aren’t for novices. They’re for legends. And you, Ellie—like it or not—you’ve become one.”

The word echoed in her mind, a chain tightening around her chest. Legend. The stories they’d spun weren’t hers, but they had latched onto her like a curse. She felt the room closing in, the adventurers watching her, waiting for her to confirm what they believed.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” she whispered, but her voice felt too small, too weak.

Hargrave’s expression softened, though only for a moment. “I get it. It’s intimidating, your first taste of fame. But that dungeon? The way you handled it? Folk don’t forget things like that.” He pointed at the map again, his voice growing sharper. “This is your chance to prove it wasn’t luck.”

Ellie’s head spun. She wanted to scream, to tell them all it was a lie, that she wasn’t their hero, that she wasn’t special. But none of that mattered. The truth didn’t matter anymore. They had decided who she was—who she had to be.

Hargrave’s hand landed heavily on her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. His grip was firm, his eyes full of expectation. “You’ll do just fine. The guild’s counting on you.”

The pressure of his words pressed into her bones, the weight of expectation crushing her spirit. As she left the guildhall, the world outside blurred. The cobblestones beneath her feet, the voices around her—they were distant, as though she were walking through a dream. But this was no dream. It was a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

She wasn’t a hero. But the world had already made her one.

And there was no escape.