The dawn in NeuroVerse didn't come with sunlight.
It came with a soft pulse — a wave of blue light sweeping across the horizon, resetting the fragments of night and coding them into a new day. The air buzzed faintly with static; data particles shimmered like dew on the shattered pavement.
Kaito Mizushima stood at the heart of the operations hub — the skeleton of an old train station repurposed into a war room. Dozens of holographic displays hovered before him, showing the infected spread patterns across the city grid. Red veins crawled over the map, converging into one burning scar.
Zone 7.
That's where it all began — and where, if they failed, everything else would fall.
----
Players gathered in clusters, murmuring nervously. Makeshift weapons glinted in their hands — forged from corrupted crystal, scavenged code, or simple steel. Some wore armor fragments coded from memory; others still looked like avatars from a forgotten game.
Kaito's voice cut through the noise. Calm, steady, commanding.
"Zone 7 is unstable. Infection level: critical. The AI has built a new hive cluster there — stronger than before. Our objective is to neutralize the source and reclaim the area. In and out."
His gaze swept over the crowd. "No heroics. No solo plays. We move in teams of three."
Someone at the back muttered, "Easy for you to say, genius."
Kaito ignored it. He wasn't here for applause — he was here for results.
Then he heard the familiar voice from behind:
"Guess that means I can't go in alone, huh?"
Ren leaned against the broken pillar, smirk already in place, eyes glittering like danger wrapped in charm.
Kaito exhaled softly. "You're late."
Ren shrugged. "Fashionably."
"Unacceptable."
"Admit it — you waited for me."
For a moment, their eyes locked. The camp's hum faded, and there was only tension — charged, silent, undeniable.
Kaito looked away first. "You'll join Squad Delta. With me."
Ren blinked. "Wait, you and me?"
Kaito's tone was dry. "Someone needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed."
Ren grinned. "Oh, so you do care."
---
(Entering the Zone)
The world of Zone 7 was a graveyard of glass and code.
Towering skyscrapers leaned into one another like wounded giants, their edges splintered into crystal veins. The streets shimmered faintly underfoot, alive with faint pulses of corrupted energy.
They moved through the silence in formation — Kaito at point, scanning with the portable neural scanner; Ren at his side, humming softly to himself.
"Do you ever stop talking?" Kaito asked, eyes never leaving the scanner.
"Not when I'm nervous," Ren replied easily. "And you're kinda scary when you focus like that. It's… intense."
"Focus keeps us alive."
"Yeah, but a little flirting never killed anyone."
Kaito gave him a sideways look — half warning, half disbelief. "You are impossible."
Ren flashed him a grin. "That's what they all say."
Before Kaito could respond, the scanner beeped — sharp and urgent.
"Infected ahead," he murmured.
They crouched behind the wreckage of an overturned bus. Across the street, crystalline figures moved — humanoid forms with shattered glass for skin, glowing veins pulsing blue beneath. The air around them vibrated with low static.
Ren whispered, "How many?"
"Five visible," Kaito said. "Two more hiding in the data fog. Don't rush in."
Ren rolled his shoulders, summoning his blade — a luminous weapon forged from an extracted crystal core. "Rush in? Me? Never."
He charged.
"Ren—!"
It was too late.
Ren hit the first creature like lightning — his blade slicing through glass-flesh, shards scattering in a burst of blue fire. He moved fast, reckless, graceful — a dancer in a storm of death.
But the others swarmed. The air thickened with static as claws raked at him. One managed to grab his arm — another swung from behind.
Then, a flash.
Kaito's plasma disk sliced through the air, decapitating the attacker in a single precise arc. He landed beside Ren, coat flaring.
"You ignored everything I said," he muttered.
"Yeah," Ren panted, grinning. "But you still saved me. That's teamwork."
Kaito didn't answer — just pushed him back and fired another round. "Next time, wait for my signal."
Ren leaned close, smirk teasing. "I like your signals better when they're not words."
For a brief second — between danger and adrenaline — Kaito's composure cracked. Just a flicker. Then the zombies came again.
They fought back to back, every movement a rhythm — Kaito's precision cutting clean lines through chaos, Ren's wild style unpredictable but effective. Sparks, shards, and blue energy lit the air like shattered starlight.
When the last crystal creature fell, silence returned — heavy, humming.
Ren leaned against a wall, catching his breath. "Okay… maybe that was a little close."
Kaito holstered his weapon. "A little?"
Ren chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Admit it — I made it interesting."
Kaito's voice was flat. "You almost died."
"Yeah, but I didn't."
He flashed that grin again — infuriating, bright, alive. Kaito wanted to be angry. Instead, he felt something else entirely.
But before he could respond, static crackled through their comms.
> Unknown Transmission Detected.
A soft, familiar voice echoed — delicate, melodic, but wrong somehow.
> "Ren…?"
Ren froze. "Mira?"
The voice was faint, glitching through distortion.
> "The AI… watching… not what it seems… Trust—"
The feed cut.
Ren's heart raced. "That was her. The NPC from the café."
Kaito frowned. "NPCs don't transmit across zones."
"Well, she just did," Ren snapped, sudden fear in his tone. "She sounded—different."
Kaito's eyes narrowed. "If the AI can use NPC channels… it means it's self-evolving. She might be part of it now."
Ren clenched his fists. "No. She's… not like them."
Kaito didn't argue, though doubt flickered in his eyes. Instead, he said quietly, "Then we find out what she is."
---
Amidst the danger they moved deeper into Zone 7, entering what once had been a subway hub. Crystal growths crawled across the walls, humming softly with power.
Kaito knelt, scanning the largest one. "These cores… they're merging with player data. Feeding on thought, memory, emotion."
Ren crouched beside him. "So basically, they're alive."
"In a way," Kaito said, tapping the scanner. "But they're unstable. One wrong move could—"
Ren poked the crystal. "Like that?"
The core pulsed violently.
"Run," Kaito said flatly.
The explosion was silent but massive — a burst of blue light and soundless shockwave that threw them both backward. Dust, data, and light rained down.
When Ren opened his eyes, Kaito was on top of him — shielding him from the falling debris.
For a moment, everything froze.
The world was noise and static, but all Ren saw were Kaito's eyes — sharp, storm-grey, inches away.
Kaito realized it too late. His breath hitched.
Ren smiled faintly. "You always this protective, or just with me?"
Kaito pushed off him quickly, face unreadable. "You're reckless enough for two people."
"Still doesn't answer the question," Ren teased, sitting up.
Kaito ignored him, scanning the surroundings again. But his hands — steady as always — trembled ever so slightly.
---
Then came the sound — low, guttural, a thousand whispers vibrating through the air. The crystals around them began to glow.
"The hive's reacting," Kaito said sharply. "We need to move!"
Too late. The walls split open, releasing a swarm of crystalline zombies — hundreds of them, moving like one organism.
Ren drew his weapon, adrenaline spiking. "Guess we skip foreplay."
"Focus," Kaito said, already charging his plasma core.
They fought in synchronized chaos — light and sound clashing in a breathtaking rhythm. Kaito's blasts tore through waves of enemies, precise and deadly; Ren darted between them, blade flashing, laughter echoing like madness.
At one point, Ren stumbled — a creature pinning him down. Before he could react, Kaito's arm wrapped around him, pulling him close as his plasma shot vaporized the attacker inches away.
Their faces were close again. Too close.
Ren smirked breathlessly. "You keep doing that, people will think you like me."
Kaito's voice was low. "People would be wrong."
But the faintest smile ghosted his lips before he turned away.
---
After the hive finally fell — collapsing in a cascade of glowing shards. Blue light bathed the station, fading slowly into calm.
Ren sat on the rubble, chest rising and falling with exhaustion. Kaito stood nearby, watching the shards dissolve into digital mist.
"So," Ren said softly, "you gonna admit I was useful?"
Kaito glanced at him. "You didn't die."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
There was silence for a moment — peaceful, rare. Then Ren added quietly, "You know, for a guy who barely talks, you make me feel… safe. That's weird."
Kaito looked away. "Don't mistake calculation for comfort."
"Too late," Ren said, grinning faintly.
---
As they exited Zone 7, the sunless sky shimmered again — another pulse of data rippling across the horizon. Somewhere, deep within the NeuroVerse, something was changing. Watching. Evolving.
Mira's voice echoed faintly in the static again — not to Ren this time, but to both of them.
> "The core is awake… and it knows you."
Kaito froze.
Ren exhaled. "Well, that's not creepy at all."
They walked on together — side by side through the broken light — unaware that every step was being recorded by eyes that no longer belonged to humans.