The world was frozen.
Not metaphorically — literally.
The soft sway of tall VR grass had stopped mid-motion, as if someone had hit pause on a single animation frame. The leaves of the oak trees hovered unnaturally still. Even the faint ambient hum, the one they usually didn't notice until it vanished, was simply gone.
Twelve avatars stood in a loose and uneven circle, no one daring to shift their weight or move their hands, everyone staring at Cyrus.
His voice still echoed in their heads.
> "I… don't think it's a bug."
No one breathed.
Of course, breathing wasn't technically required in-game — but each person in real life held theirs anyway.
Hopper was the first person to move.
A tiny movement: a blink.
Then a soft exhale.
"…Okay," Hopper said, voice low but steady, "we're not doing the horror-movie freeze-frame thing. Guys. Let's—let's move. Somebody wiggle something before I lose it."
Griffin let out a shaky laugh and rotated his character's wrist. "There. I wiggled. No jump scare spawned. We're fine."
Faye finally inhaled sharply, like she'd been underwater. "Okay. Okay. That's enough paralysis for one day. Everyone just—move."
She stepped forward. The grass beneath her foot bent again, the animation snapping back into life as if embarrassed for being caught frozen.
Sterling closed his menu with a decisive flick. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Log-out servers can fail during startup. I've seen it during snapshot testing."
Cyrus didn't look reassured. His avatar's hands fidgeted slightly, despite the VR gloves dampening most fidgeting motions.
"I'm telling you the world… glitched earlier. When I spawned. It flickered."
Tessa tilted her head. "Define flickered."
"Like… the ground wasn't there for a second," Cyrus said, swallowing. "I saw—through it. Like a void. Then it popped back."
Oliver raised a hand hesitantly. "Is, uh… is that normal in any version? Because I don't remember that being normal."
Sterling hesitated. Just a fraction of a second, but everyone saw it.
"…No," he admitted quietly. "Not normal."
Melina hugged her own arms, voice soft. "Maybe it's just the world failing to fully load from the server? If it's a huge modpack or something? Or a VR overload?"
"VR overload doesn't disable a log-out button," Faye said.
Sterling nodded grimly. "Yeah. That… that part is concerning."
Hadrian clapped his hands together suddenly, startling more than one person.
"Okay! GAME PLAN! We're doing what every SMP does on day one — we gather wood, we breathe, we pretend we didn't just collectively discover psychic jail!"
Hopper let out a wheeze-laugh. "Psychic jail???"
"It's catchy, shut up," Hadrian shot back. "Anyway! Tools! Trees! Normalcy!"
Griffin gave a supportive nod. "Right. Yes. Let's… let's keep our hands busy. Staying still makes panic worse."
Flint raised his hand like a child in a classroom. "Question."
"Yes, Flint?" Hadrian said, pointing dramatically.
"What if I panic while moving?"
"Then panic responsibly," Tessa deadpanned.
"That doesn't help," Flint argued.
"It wasn't meant to."
Hopper clapped Flint's back. "Buddy, it's fine. Just don't fall in lava yet."
"I'll try," Flint said, not sounding confident.
---
They Begin Gathering Wood Again
The group dispersed slowly, not with the excited energy of before, but with the careful pace of people moving through a room with a suspicious smell.
Hopper approached the nearest oak tree and started punching it.
Every hit sounded just a bit too sharp.
VR haptics buzzed in his gloves with almost clinical precision.
He forced a grin. "See? Tree punching works! Normal SMP things!"
Tessa passed him, eyebrow raised. "Congrats, Hopper. You've mastered the groundbreaking art of left-click."
"Thank you, thank you, I try."
Melina moved to a tree beside him, but her movements were stiff, like the VR tracking was barely keeping up — or like she wasn't.
She whispered, "Do you think… we're safe?"
Hopper's joking expression softened just slightly.
"Yeah. Of course. Worst case scenario? Glitched update. The devs notice. They reboot the servers. We look like idiots for panicking."
Melina forced a smile. "Right… yeah."
A few meters away, Sterling crafted a crafting table instantly, as if speedrunning alone.
The others drifted toward him by instinct — he was their anchor.
Faye leaned over his shoulder. "Anything new in your menu? Anything we missed?"
Sterling breathed slowly, meticulously scanning every tab.
"No. Everything seems normal except… exiting."
"Great," Faye muttered. "My favorite button."
Cyrus stood beside them, opening his own menu again — the log-out button still dull, dead, unresponsive.
He tapped it again and again, even though he already knew what would happen.
Nothing.
Not even a flicker of feedback.
Griffin approached him gently. "Hey. Cyrus. Let it breathe."
"It's a button," Cyrus said, voice thin. "It doesn't breathe."
"You know what I mean."
Oliver peeked over their shoulders. "Okay, hear me out. Maybe the server disabled the exit? Like an event? Maybe Hadrian pranked us?"
Hadrian, ten blocks away, yelled, "I DIDN'T PRANK ANYONE YET!"
"'Yet' is the key word," Tessa muttered.
Hadrian pointed at her. "Tessa, you wound me! I'm insulted!"
"You'll survive," she said.
---
They Try System Commands
Griffin cleared his throat. "Alright. Everyone try saying, 'System menu' out loud. Sometimes voice overrides work."
"System menu," Sterling said calmly.
Nothing.
"System menu," Melina repeated.
Silence.
Tessa crossed her arms. "Log-out override."
No response.
Flint tried every variation he could think of:
"Quit. Exit game. End session. Escape. Take me home. Mommy help."
Nothing.
Ren raised his "Staff of Realms" dramatically. "SYSTEM—REVEAL THY HIDDEN MENUS!"
The stick glowed absolutely zero amount.
"…Worth a shot," he muttered.
Cyrus stared at the group, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's not a glitch."
"Hear him out," Faye said immediately, surprising even herself. "He was the first to notice."
Melina stepped closer, nervous. "Cyrus… what exactly did you see?"
He took a long, careful breath.
"When I spawned… the ground wasn't fully there. It was like—like watching a chunk generate except it didn't generate. It flickered between loaded and void. And when I moved my head, it didn't track right away. Like reality lagged."
Griffin rubbed his forehead. "That's… that's not any bug I've seen."
Sterling's voice dropped quiet.
"That sounds like something beyond the game engine."
The air thickened.
Even the VR lighting seemed dimmer — or maybe their fear made it feel that way.
Marlow jogged back toward the group, holding wood in both hands. "Okay! I got like twenty logs. How's everyone—"
He stopped instantly when he saw their faces.
"…Why does everyone look like we just got jump-scared?"
Hopper turned slowly.
"Marlow… buddy… the world might be… uh… weird."
Marlow blinked twice. "Define weird."
Tessa said flatly, "Cyrus saw reality blink."
"What does that mean??"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
---
Fear Settles In — Quietly
They didn't say it out loud, but the truth lingered between them:
They weren't in control.
They didn't know how long they had.
They didn't know if the normal SMP gameplay could continue.
And worst of all—
Something was wrong with the world.
Sterling took a slow breath, centered himself, and said, "Okay. Let's stay together. Gather wood. Tools. Basic supplies. And then we investigate the area Cyrus mentioned."
Everyone nodded.
Not because they felt better.
But because they needed to believe someone was in charge.
Griffin said softly, "It's going to be okay. We're going to figure this out. Together."
Melina looked at him, eyes gentle but scared. "You sure?"
"…No," Griffin admitted honestly. "But I'm still saying it."
Hopper clapped his hands. "Alright team. Let's get tools. Let's act normal. Let's breathe."
Ren raised his stick again.
"The Realm… begins to unravel."
"Ren," Faye said, "drop the lore for five minutes."
"No promises."
They moved toward the trees again, forming loose pairs.
The sounds of punching wood resumed.
But none of it felt normal anymore.
The weight of the world had changed.
Literally.
---