When I opened my eyes, I thought I was dreaming again.
But this time… there was warmth.
Wooden walls.
A ceiling made of rough planks.
The faint scent of herbs and burning firewood.
I blinked slowly. My body felt heavy, wrapped in layers of bandages. My right shoulder throbbed like hell, and my clothes had been changed to something simpler — a white shirt, my jacket folded on the nearby chair.
My rifle leaned against the wall beside the bed.
At least that was still there.
I sat up slowly, scanning the place. It wasn't exactly a house — more like an old outpost. Crates and chests stacked neatly against one corner, some labeled with strange symbols I didn't recognize. Weapons hung from the wall — blades, guns, and a few mechanical parts that looked like they came from different games altogether.
Before I could process where I was, the door creaked open.
A figure stepped inside.
Instinct kicked in. I grabbed my rifle and pointed it straight at him.
"Who are you? And where the hell am I?" I demanded.
He stopped mid-step — calm, unfazed by the barrel aimed at his head.
"That's a weird way to say thank you," he said casually.
His tone threw me off. I hesitated. The man's armor was strange — part medieval, part modern, like it was cobbled together from different Version of one game. His mask was off now, revealing messy dark hair and calm gray eyes that looked… tired, but not dangerous.
I glanced down at my shoulder again. Clean bandages. Fresh.
He had treated me.
"Oh," I muttered awkwardly, lowering the rifle. "Sorry. Guess I misjudged you."
He gave a small smile. "Happens. You're lucky to be alive, you know."
"Alive?" I echoed, blinking. The memory hit me like lightning.
The train explosion. The void. SK's scythe through my shoulder.
"Wait— the Void!" I gasped, sitting upright, heart pounding.
He raised a brow. "Easy there. You'll tear your stitches."
I ignored him. "What happened? Where's SK? How did I get here?"
He scratched the back of his neck, looking unsure.
"Honestly? No idea. I found you unconscious near the rift line. I thought you were data debris until you started breathing."
"Rift line?"
"Yeah. The edge between SkyRealm and the other games that Sync Corp owns," he explained, his tone serious. Then he sighed and sat on the chair opposite me. "This place… it's unstable. Keeps changing, like it's alive."
I stared at him. "Who are you?"
He hesitated, as if the question bothered him. "That's… complicated."
"Try me."
"Well…" He looked away, almost embarrassed. "I don't really remember much. I just remember falling. A long time ago."
"So you're a void survivor?"
"Guess so." He looked up, meeting my gaze. "The only name I remember is my user tag — Bl4ze."
"Bl4ze…" I repeated, the name sounding oddly familiar. "That's the only thing you remember?"
"Pretty much. Everything else is fragments. System messages. Old memories that don't make sense anymore."
He tilted hid head. "You're a weird SkyRealm player."
I blinked. "Wait—what?"
"Yeah," He said, smirking faintly despite myself. "Your armor, your sword, the aura around you — totally SkyRealm-style."
He chuckled. "So what Region are you from Skyrealm?"
I frowned. "No. I'm not a SkyRealm player."
He looked genuinely surprised. "Then… where are you from?"
"Countless Star," I said flatly.
His expression twisted in disbelief. "You're joking, right? Countless Star doesn't even connect with Sync Corp servers. That's the company that made SkyRealm."
I shook my head. "Not anymore."
He leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"When the Catastrophe Code launched," I began, my voice low, "SkyRealm's players got stuck inside the digital world. But after the raid team defeated the final boss, something broke in the system. The code started glitching — absorbing data from other games. Every world it connected to… it pulled them in too."
Bl4ze's eyes widened. "So you're saying…"
"Yeah. Even games outside Sync Corp's control got dragged in. Countless Star, Titan Rush, Battle Net, you name it. The Void connects them all now."
He was silent for a while, processing. Then he asked quietly,
"So what's the situation up there? Did you guys ever find a way out?"
I looked down at my bandaged hands. "No. It's been five years since the endgame. Nothing's changed. We still can't log out. The code just keeps expanding, pulling in more data… more players."
Bl4ze leaned back, his eyes shadowed. "Five years…"
"Yeah," I said. "How long have you been trapped?"
He thought for a moment. "Maybe… one year? Hard to tell. Time doesn't flow right here."
I sighed. "That explains a lot."
He gave a small grin. "Guess that makes me your senior, then."
I snorted. "Barely. You don't even know what day it is."
We both laughed softly — the first bit of calm since the chaos.
The silence after felt almost peaceful. The flicker of the fire, the faint hum of data wind outside.
Then —
As we chatted, another figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.
"I thought you lived alone—" I began, but my words froze halfway out of my mouth.
The firelight flickered across her face — long blonde hair, crimson eyes that gleamed like a predator's.
Even battered and scarred, I'd never forget that face.
My breath hitched. "No way…"
The figure stepped closer, her presence heavy, cold, and unmistakable.
A cracked scythe hung loosely at her side, its blade still humming with residual energy.
"So your alive huh," she said, her voice calm but edged with danger.
It was her.
SK — The Reaper.