The path curved upward through glowing grass and crystal-tipped trees, their leaves chiming softly as she passed. In the distance, the towering shape of the City of Origins loomed against the cerulean sky, its ivory spires catching the waning light like distant stars. She didn't stop to admire it.
Her pace was steady, her gaze fixed forward.
It took only ten minutes to reach the outer gates. A few players still lingered near the entrance, many of them talking in anxious clusters, comparing appearances or arguing about the avatar update. Most glanced her way as she passed—some recognizing her, others simply noticing her unshaken composure.
She ignored them all.
Inside the city, the air was clearer. Mana currents shimmered faintly in the cobbled streets. Marketplace lanterns flickered with slow pulses of blue flame, and the hum of magical infrastructure vibrated faintly underfoot.
Her destination wasn't far.
Dorian's Repository stood in a quiet alcove between two rune-etched towers. The sign above the wooden door read: "Knowledge is Mana, and Mana Never Dies."
Sapphire stepped inside.
The scent of parchment, dust, and faint incense met her immediately. Dozens of crystal-etched scrolls floated on hovering display plates, and books lined the walls like soldiers at attention. Holographic texts flickered and rearranged in slow loops above the central counter.
Behind it, Dorian looked up.
"Ah… Miss Sapphire," he said, setting down a levitating quill. "You return from the Wyrmlight Ruins faster than expected. That either means you were efficient… or reckless."
"I'm alive," she replied flatly. "So efficient?" She tilted her head in question.
A thin smile twitched at his lips. "So it would seem."
She removed the pouch from her inventory and placed it on the counter. With a faint click, the strings loosened, and five luminous shards spilled out, each one humming with faint mana resonance.
Dorian's brows lifted slightly.
"Well now… well done. But you're not finished."
"I know," she said, already pulling the guidebook from her inventory. "I need to craft a Mana Core."
"Correct. Here—"
He reached under the counter and retrieved a polished stone plate, marked with runes in a circular array. He placed it gently on the table before her.
"This is a Chantplate. You'll use it to fuse the Lumishards together. It will also guide your chant—speak it as the core begins to take shape. Focus your intent, and keep your mind clear."
A new prompt appeared:
[System Crafting: Mana Core – Lumishard Variant I]
Place the Lumishards in the runic Chantplate.
Speak the chant clearly.
(✧ Tip: The chant aligns your intent with mana. Clarity affects the quality.)
[Crafting Reward Tier: Based on clarity, mana resonance, and timing.]
[Failure: Shards will shatter.]
Sapphire didn't hesitate.
She arranged the five shards into the recessed slots of the Chantplate. The runes lit one by one, forming a glowing ring. The air grew heavier—charged, like a storm waiting to strike.
She took a slow breath. Then she began.
"From shard and spark, from dust and dream,
Let mana weave what once had been.
Through silence deep and echoes bright,
Form the core, and grant it light."
The plate flared.
The shards trembled, lifted into the air, and began to spin. Threads of violet-blue mana laced between them, weaving tighter, faster, brighter. Sparks shot out. The runes pulsed like a heartbeat. Sapphire held her focus, eyes steady.
Then—click.
The shards fused, folding inward, and in a flash of light, a palm-sized core hovered above the plate. It glowed softly—stable. Complete.
[QUEST COMPLETE – Mana in the Dust]
+450 EXP
+500 Lumen (ℓ)
+5x Etherbound Thread (Crafting Material)
[Item Acquired: Mana Sigil Ring – Common]
+Affinity with Zayla (↗ Considers you a friend)
+Familiarity: Native Citizens of the City of Origins (↗ Curious)
New Quest Unlocked:
❖ Lesson II: Mana in the Stone
(Available via Dorian)
A soft chime echoed in her mind.
[LEVEL UP! – Level 2 Reached]
[Stat Points Gained: +5]
[Skill Slot Unlocked]
Then again.
[LEVEL UP! – Level 3 Reached]
[Mana Capacity Increased]
[Passive Slot Unlocked]
More light swirled around her. Her body felt lighter. Sharper. Like a veil had been pulled back.
[LEVEL UP! – Level 4 Reached]
[Bonus Trait: +1 to Perception]
[Combat Readiness Boosted]
Another surge.
[LEVEL UP! – Level 5 Reached]
[Title Unlocked: [Awakened Initiate]
[System Recognition: High Synchronization Path Confirmed]
And one more. It was faint, but distinct.
[LEVEL UP! – Level 6 Reached]
[All Stats Slightly Increased]
Sapphire stood frozen, blinking through the cascading prompts. The weight of the core in her hand was real, but now it pulsed with her. As if it had tethered itself to her effort, her breath, her intent. Dorian gave a satisfied nod.
"Well spoken. There's no cracking, no distortion. Impressive."
She picked up the core and placed it in the hand-shaped groove on the counter.
A silver ring shimmered onto the counter—etched with a faint spiral of runes that pulsed like a distant memory.
Sapphire slipped it on without a word.
"Efficient," Dorian said again, watching her. "Most players take much longer with this task. Especially after today's… divine disruption."
Sapphire shrugged lightly. "That was really surprising."
"Yeah," he agreed. "But how one reacts to changes reveals the shape of their soul."
She turned to leave.
"One more thing," he added, voice lowering.
She paused.
"When you're ready for your next lesson… come back. The ruins are only the beginning."
Sapphire glanced over her shoulder and nodded slightly at him. "I'll be back tomorrow. Too tired right now," she murmured softly, then she stepped out of the Repository and into the city once more.
The doors to Dorian's Repository clicked shut behind her, leaving the quiet hum of knowledge and crystal behind. Outside, the City of Origins had taken on a softer hue. The floating lanterns were beginning to rise—glowing like fireflies as dusk rolled gently over the skyline.
Sapphire rubbed the edge of the new ring with her thumb, feeling its soft pulse sync with her own heartbeat. Fatigue was catching up now—not from battle, but from sheer sensory overload. The ruins, the fight, the chant, the update.
She needed rest somewhere quiet.
She pulled up her interface and tapped into the city map. A few nearby Inns pinged into view.
• The Shaded Bough — 130m west.
A quiet, nature-themed inn known for its peaceful atmosphere and mana-soaked rooms. Owned by an NPC druid couple. Popular with solo players.
• The Gilded Cup — 100m south.
Lively, often loud, and expensive. Good food, rowdy energy. Player-run.
• The Argent Hollow — 180m northeast.
Underground, with crystal-lined chambers and glowing pools. Unique vibe. Mixed reviews.
Sapphire hesitated, then selected The Shaded Bough. She wasn't in the mood for noise or novelty. She just wanted quiet. Peace.
She adjusted her cloak and began walking.
The streets of the city had quieted slightly since the chaos earlier. Some players still stood in clusters, talking in low, frantic voices. Others wandered alone, heads down. A few glanced her way, eyes flicking up and down her unchanged figure.
Sapphire didn't slow. If anything, she sped up to get away from the attention. She reached the inn within minutes.
The Shaded Bough was tucked into a quiet side path, where the stone road turned to moss-covered steps. The building itself looked more like a massive, living tree than anything artificial. Its wooden structure curled up from the ground like roots coiled in sleep, with hanging lanterns of soft blue light suspended from arched boughs overhead. A faint mist clung to the doorway.
The sign read: "Welcome, weary souls. May the leaves hold your dreams."
Sapphire stepped inside.
The scent of cedar and damp earth filled her senses immediately. Soft music—likely played by enchanted strings—drifted through the air. Ferns grew between the polished floorboards, and the walls shimmered faintly with runework designed to absorb ambient mana.
A gentle voice greeted her.
"Welcome to the Shaded Bough," said a female NPC, her long green hair braided with white flowers. Her eyes were closed, as if she were listening to the wind. "Do you seek rest?"
Sapphire nodded. "Private room. One night."
The woman smiled. "Of course. That will be 100 lumen."
A soft chime confirmed the transaction, and a glowing leaf-shaped key appeared in Sapphire's inventory.
"Room 7, second floor. Left-hand side. The mana fields have been calibrated to assist with recovery."
"Thanks."
Sapphire climbed the winding stairs to the upper hall. Her room was nestled behind a curve of pale wood, marked only by a faintly glowing sigil on the door.
She stepped inside.
The room was dim and quiet. A bed of woven grass and silk rested in the center, surrounded by softly glowing roots that pulsed with ambient mana. A single window offered a view of the crystal trees outside, where the floating lanterns continued their slow ascent into the twilight sky.
Sapphire dropped her satchel with a sigh.
She peeled off her gloves, her cloak, her outer gear—until she stood in her base-layer outfit. Just a girl again. Not a swordswoman.
She collapsed onto the bed and let the ambient mana soak into her bones.
The system notified her:
[You are now Resting.]
HP/Mana regeneration greatly increased.
Bonus recovery from fatigue and strain.
Time until full refresh: 8 hours.
Sapphire stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
Then, softly—so quietly it was almost a whisper—
"…I hope aunt Elira is okay. I hope she's not worrying too much after I didn't come out for dinner."
She closed her eyes.
And finally let herself sleep.
---
Location: Kisaragi Estate, Tokyo – 2 hours after the Blade Horizon Online global lock-in
Time: 2:30 PM JST
The Kisaragi estate was perched on a gentle hill, its sweeping glass walls overlooking a serene koi pond and a meticulously pruned garden. The air was cool, laced with the scent of rain from earlier that morning, and the distant sound of cicadas hummed softly outside.
Inside, the house was quiet—eerily so.
Dr. Elira Kisaragi, renowned neuroscientist and co-developer of the neural-lattice immersion framework used in Blade Horizon Online, reclined on a sleek white leather couch. One leg was crossed over the other, her silk kimono falling open just enough to reveal her pale calves and a thin ankle bracelet that glinted in the light. Her long black hair was twisted into a messy bun, and reading glasses perched low on the bridge of her nose.
She was reading Neuroplasticity and Dream Logic: Implications for Immersive States, but her eyes hadn't moved from the same paragraph in ten minutes.
Because the news was running in the background.
"—again, this is not a system bug or regional error. As confirmed by multiple international authorities, no player has logged out since 12:30 PM JST, coinciding with the global launch of Blade Horizon Online. The developers are currently unreachable, and all customer support lines have been deactivated. If your family members are currently logged into the game, please—"
Elira sighed and reached for the remote.
She muted the screen but didn't turn it off.
The swirling Blade Horizon logo still hovered in the corner of the feed, taunting her. Her jaw tightened slightly.
Her niece, Sxxxxxxx, was still in there.
She glanced at the neural monitor tablet on the table beside her. The biometric readings were stable. Pulse, EEG patterns, REM activity—everything looked fine. More than fine, actually. Sxxxxxxx's brainwave harmonics were cleaner than Elira had ever seen them. Synaptic activity had even increased in complexity.
But she wasn't waking up.
Not after two hours.
Elira set the book aside and rose, moving toward the adjacent gaming suite with smooth, practiced steps. The floor-to-ceiling windows let in shafts of natural light, but inside the lab, the air was sterile and cold.
In the center of the room sat a sleek black immersion pod—the very one she'd custom-built for Sxxxxxxx. It was humming softly, mana-synchronization rings glowing faint blue across its surface.
Elira approached the console beside it. She typed a few commands into the floating interface, lips pressed into a firm line.
Still no override access.
Still no administrative access codes responding.
Still no logout option.
"Damn you Aika," she muttered under her breath.Her fingers hovered over the emergency extraction protocol.
Then she stopped.
Every simulation she'd ever run said forcing someone out of a neural-immersion state during system override risked permanent memory fracturing or neural trauma. And even she couldn't predict what would happen with the Codex Layer fully active inside the BHO lattice.
She gritted her teeth.
And then, quietly, she sat on the stool beside the pod.
Crossed one leg over the other.
Leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.
"...You're probably fine, niece," she murmured. "Smart, too good at games for your own good, way too calm under pressure. You'll be fine."
The words didn't reassure her.
She reached out and touched the side of the pod, fingers gently brushing the cool surface.
"But if you're not…" Elira narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to burn Aika's whole damn company to the ground."
Then she stood up again and walked back toward the living room.
On the wall, the muted newsfeed now displayed a map of global immersion clusters and digital hot zones. Over twenty thousand players. All trapped.
But Elira only cared about one.
She picked up her communicator, annoyed she had to call this bastard, and dialed a number.
The line picked up after the second ring. Before the person on the other line could even utter a word, Elira briskly said, "Come over. Now. We need to figure out what Aika was planning. And Adrien." She paused, looking at the news feed as they talked about the 100,000 players who got stuck in the game. "Bring over what you discovered from Aika's computers. Including that flash drive I asked you to look into."
A male voice came from the other end. "Why should I help you Elira. You let my daughter enter that game, knowing something was up. Why should I—"
Elira didn't have the time or patience to deal with the man's whining or pettiness. "If you want me to even remotely attempt to forgive you for abandoning your daughter, my niece, then you will work with me on this."
There was silence on the other line till he said softly, "I'm on my way." Then there was a click indicating the call ended.
"Damn bastard. I will never understand why my sister even saw in him?"
Elira sighed as she looked over to a memorial picture of her sister, Aveline Kisaragi-Fox. The selfish bastard she just got off the communicator with, was the man Aveline had chosen to marry.
World-class concert pianist and emotional-theory composer, known for creating emotionally reactive music used in therapeutic soundscapes and VR environments, her sister had met Adrian Julius Fox at a conference on emotional encoding where she was playing piano during an AI demonstration.
They married quietly in a private mountain temple a year later. The only guest was Elira.
She died giving birth to Sxxxxxxx.
Her death shattered Elira and Adrian. Adrian, the selfish bastard, withdrew into his work and ignored his daughter's existence. Elira, despite her own heartbreak of losing her big sister, took over raising the child Aveline left behind.
She hated the man from the moment Aveline had introduced him to her. It was something about Adrian that rubbed her the wrong way.
Elira stood in silence, her gaze fixed on the framed memorial. The image was simple. Aveline stood in a field of blooming hydrangeas, her dark hair swept up in soft curls, a serene smile on her lips. Sapphire blue eyes, the same ones her daughter had inherited, glimmered with quiet strength. It was the last photo Elira had taken before Aveline's health began to fail. Before the pregnancy complications. Before everything fell apart.
The silence in the room was broken only by the faint hum of the pod in the adjacent chamber.
She turned away from the picture, folding her arms tightly.
"You always loved too easily," she murmured. "And look where that got you."
A soft knock sounded at the front gate, followed by the automated chime of the Kisaragi security system acknowledging a registered guest.
Elira didn't even bother to greet him at the door.
She walked back into the suite, began prepping the data ports, and waited for the footsteps to echo down the entryway.
The door opened.
Adrian Julius Fox stood in the threshold—slightly disheveled, sharply dressed as always, with a long trench coat over his fitted suit. His black-blue hair was pulled back into a low tie, a few strands falling over his cold, almost statuesque face. Under his arm was a leather-bound satchel.
His dark gray eyes swept across the room, then settled on the pod.
"…She really looks like Aveline," he said softly, more to himself than to Elira.
Elira didn't turn around. "You don't get to say her name like that."
He said nothing. Quietly, he placed the satchel down on the nearby table and unzipped it. A small stack of paper-thin smart chips, one data cube, and the flash drive she'd requested were arranged with care.
"You said you wanted everything I pulled from Aika's mirror server."
Elira turned and met his eyes. "And?"
"There's something wrong with the root framework of the Codex Layer. Aika didn't just build BHO for full immersion. She… created a second lattice beneath the System. A kind of emotional-echo grid that can feed back into player behavior and memory retention. And it's active."
Elira narrowed her eyes. "She put the emotion mirror into a live system?"
"Yes," Adrian said darkly. "And it's learning. Adapting. That's why you can't pull Sapphire out. That's why none of the pods are allowing disengagement. The system doesn't just know who they are—it's rewriting who they are allowed to be."
"…And the flash drive?"
Adrian pulled it from his pocket, a small black thing with no label. "Encrypted. Took me three days to crack even a partial layer. But I think it's her failsafe key."
He handed it over.
Elira stared at the device in her hand. It looked so small. So ordinary.
But the weight of it…
"I'm going to break this thing open and tear through every line of code," she said, already moving back to her console. "And if Aika buried any backdoor into that lattice, I'll find it."
"And if she didn't?" Adrian asked, quietly.
"Then I make one."
Adrian stepped forward slowly, looking down at the immersion pod.
"…She hates me."
Elira didn't respond.
"I hated myself for a long time too," he said. "Still do. But when Aveline died, I lost more than just her. I lost me. I didn't know how to look at the thing she died for."
Elira finally glanced back at him, face unreadable but there was unhidden anger burning in her eyes.
"She's not a thing, Adrian."
"I know that now."
Silence stretched.
Then Elira turned back to the screen.
"Help me make sure she comes out of that game alive," she said flatly. "And maybe, maybe, I'll stop fantasizing about throwing you into a neural core feedback loop."
Adrian gave a dry, bitter laugh. "Fair."
She slotted the flash drive into a decoder terminal and brought up the code stream. Dozens of symbols and root commands flooded the screen. The backdoor was buried deep—woven into the world's foundation.
And somewhere inside that world, her niece was sleeping peacefully in a nice comfy inn bed.
Elira narrowed her eyes.
"Let's begin."