THE MASKED COURIER
Isaac had never been one for sentimentality, but he had to admit. He was starting to enjoy the mask.
It had been a full day since he’d put it on, and already, it felt like a natural extension of himself. The smooth, featureless surface remained cool against his skin, weightless yet impossibly firm. It should have been suffocating, restrictive. But instead, it was comfortable.
He could still see, hear, eat, and drink as if it weren’t there. The magic worked flawlessly.
More importantly? It never came off.
Not even when he slept.
Not even when he tried.
Which meant two things:
One, no one would ever see his face again.
Two, he had truly become a ghost.
Isaac wasn’t worried. If anything, the mask had already become part of him.
And as he jogged along the outskirts of Alderwood Forest, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth beneath the porcelain.
The rumors would spread even further now.
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THE CALM BEFORE THE HUNT
The world had settled over the past few weeks.
Not entirely, there was still chaos, power struggles, and desperation but at least people had stopped panicking.
Settlements were being established.
Trade routes were being formed.
Guilds were cementing their influence.
And in the middle of it all?
Isaac kept running.
While warlords schemed and adventurers sought glory, he kept doing what he loved. He had just finished delivering an encrypted scroll to a contact in Eldermere and was now en route to another job. Nothing difficult. Just another package, another errand, another quiet night.
Or at least, that was the plan.
Until he noticed something strange.
The forest was too quiet.
The usual sounds of distant wildlife, rustling leaves, and murmuring players had vanished.
Isaac slowed his pace. His masked face tilted slightly, listening.
Then, in the distance, movement.
And suddenly, he felt a familiar pressure pressing down on him.
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Ah. So today’s the day.
The Iron Hounds had finally found him.
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CAUGHT. BUT NOT FOR LONG
Five figures emerged from the shadows of the trees.
Then six more.
Then another five.
A full squad, surrounding him from all sides. Their weapons weren’t raised, but their stances were ready. This wasn’t an ambush meant to kill.
This was a capture.
Isaac came to a calm stop. His posture relaxed, his head tilting slightly as he took in the faces of his hunters.
At the front of the group stood Garrus Ironjaw.
The armored guild leader was watching him with quiet intensity, his heavy greataxe resting on one shoulder. His expression wasn’t angry or impatient.
It was calculating.
For the first time in a long while, Isaac was mildly surprised.
He had known that eventually, someone would figure out his movements. That much was inevitable.
But he hadn’t expected it to be today.
His surprise lasted only a second.
Then, it vanished. Replaced with instinct.
Without a single word, without waiting for Garrus to speak or gloat or issue an ultimatum.
Isaac ran.
Straight forward.
Directly at Garrus.
The guild leader’s eyes barely widened before Isaac was already on him, twisting his body at the last second, sliding low, slipping past him like water through fingers.
“What the-?!”
Garrus swung his greataxe in reaction. But Isaac had already slipped past his reach. He launched forward, weaving between two other stunned players before they could even react.
And just like that.
The chase began.
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THE MEMORY OF YESTERDAY
As Garrus turned, barking orders, his mind flickered back to the previous day.
The stranger. The book. The plan.
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Yesterday, Fort Blackthorn.
Garrus had narrowed his eyes at the thin, sharp-eyed man standing before him.
"I asked you before." he said, voice low and dangerous. "Who the hell are you?"
The stranger merely smiled, his fingers tapping the leather-bound book he had dropped on the table.
“Let’s just say I’m someone who enjoys watching patterns.”
Garrus remained silent, waiting.
The man continued.
"Your courier? Your ghost? He’s not some untouchable myth. He’s not some teleporting god."
He tapped the book again.
"He’s just a man who follows routes."
Garrus frowned. “And you’re so sure?”
The man smirked. “Because I mapped them.”
He flipped the book open, revealing detailed records, sketches, routes.
Every known sighting of the courier. Every point of interest he had been connected to. Every major road, minor path, and hidden shortcut in the region.
Garrus felt his jaw tighten.
"So?" the stranger asked, closing the book with a soft snap. "Are you ready to catch your ghost?"
Garrus took one last look at the detailed routes.
Then, he grinned.
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THE HUNT IS ON
The memory faded.
Garrus snapped back to the present. Watching as Isaac blurred between trees, weaving, dodging, never stopping.
The bastard was fast.
But this time?
They were prepared.
“STICK TO THE PLAN!” Garrus barked. “Cut him off at the ridge! Force him into the valley!”
The Iron Hounds moved instantly, splitting into groups, their formation shifting to match the book’s predicted patterns.
Isaac didn’t stop running.
He could already see what they were trying to do.
They were no longer chasing him blindly.
They were anticipating him.
Adapting.
He smirked behind the mask.
Oh. Now this is interesting.
And for the first time since coming to this world, Isaac felt it.
That thrill.
The pure, undeniable excitement of being hunted.
They were getting smarter.
But so was he.
And as he vanished into the trees, Isaac knew...
This was going to be fun.