It's been three days since the mock battle.
My bruises still haven't healed yet — especially that hit from Blaze. I swear I still feel that punch echoing through my ribs.
SK hasn't stopped training either. Every morning, like clockwork, she's outside swinging her scythe through the air, cutting invisible enemies. Ever since she fell from the Void, it's been her routine.
I stretched, wincing at the ache in my arm. "Man, she never rests…" I muttered, watching her from the window. Her movements were sharp, precise, deadly — a reminder of why they called her The Reaper.
I walked through Blaze's house again, wandering past shelves stacked with strange artifacts — emblems, crests, and weapons. Some I recognized from old games, others I'd never seen before. His house was like a museum of forgotten worlds.
As I studied a cracked insignia on the wall, a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Hey, what's up? What're you looking at?"
I turned — it was Blaze.
"Nothing much," I said. "Just... looking at all this stuff. It's like a collection of history."
He chuckled and picked something off the wall — a long, heavy rifle, dusty but well-kept.
"Oh, this? Just some junk."
"Junk?" I raised an eyebrow. "That looks like a beast of a rifle."
"Yeah," he said, patting it. "This old thing's called a Barrett M82. Back in the old days, players in battle-royale games worshiped this gun. One shot — one kill."
I blinked. "Barrett… like a traditional sniper rifle?"
He grinned. "Exactly. You know your weapons, Starborn."
"Of course. Let me try it?"
He tossed it to me — the weight nearly made me stumble.
"Sure," Blaze said. "Let's see if you can handle some old-school firepower."
We stepped outside. The wind brushed against the field, SK still training nearby. When she noticed us, she lowered her scythe and jogged over.
"Good morning, sir!" she greeted Blaze, saluting slightly.
Blaze nodded. "Morning."
I crossed my arms. "Hey, I'm here too, you know."
She glanced at me… and then ignored me completely.
"May I ask, sir," she said to Blaze, pointing at the rifle, "what kind of weapon is that?"
Before Blaze could answer, I stepped in.
"It's called a Barrett. Type of sniper rifle — one of the classics."
SK gave me a cold look. "I wasn't asking you."
I smirked. "Yeah, sure you weren't."
Blaze sighed. "Alright, you two. Save the energy for something useful."
I crouched and rested the rifle on a rock, peering through the scope. My breath caught.
"Wow… this scope's insane. I can see that far without enchantment?"
Even my Starlink rifle — hybrid of tech and magic — couldn't see this clearly without using enhancement spells.
I locked onto a small boulder in the distance.
"Alright, let's see what you've got."
I squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The recoil slammed into my shoulder like a hammer. I nearly dropped the rifle.
When I looked again, the rock was gone — shattered into dust.
Blaze laughed. "Not bad! Impressive shot."
Even SK, despite herself, gave a small nod. "Not bad… for a Starborn."
I grinned. "This thing's amazing. No wonder it's famous."
"You almost remind me of KennyS," Blaze said.
"Kenny who?" I asked.
"KennyS. Legendary sniper. Way back in the day — before the games merged. He was something else."
"Oh… sounds like someone I'd wanna meet."
I stood and handed the Barrett back. "Here, thanks. But I'll stick to my own partner."
Blaze tilted his head. "You sure? Thought you liked it."
I tapped my rifle. "Already got one. This one never lets me down."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. This old gun belonged to a friend of mine anyway. He was a hell of a shot too."
"What happened to him?" I asked quietly.
Blaze's smile faded. "Don't know. Haven't seen him since the The Great Collapse."
The wind fell silent for a moment. I didn't ask again.
Later that night, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling.
The faint creak of the house and the distant hum of SK's scythe outside filled the air.
"Is this it?" I muttered. "Is this my life now? Trapped between worlds, living under the same roof as a Reaper and a walking mystery?"
I sighed. "No. There has to be a way out of here."
Then — a faint crackle.
Bzzt.
Bzzt-bzzt.
I froze. That sound—
I leapt from the bed and grabbed my communicator. The static grew louder.
[S-SOS… is anybody there… over…?]
My eyes widened. "What the—? Hello? Hello, can you hear me?"
Only static.
Bzzt…
Bzttt…
"Come on, answer me!"
The signal cut in and out, fading like a whisper through a storm.
For a second, I thought I heard another voice — faint, distant, familiar.
"…Ryze… respond…"
Then silence.
I tightened my grip on the communicator. My heart was pounding.
That was real. I wasn't imagining it.
Someone was still out there.
I slumped back against the wall, clutching the device. The static returned — softer this time, almost rhythmic.
"Someone's calling," I whispered to myself. "The Resistance… maybe the squad leader…?"
The thought gave me hope — a fragile, flickering flame inside me.
I sat there for what felt like hours, staring at the communicator, waiting for it to speak again.
But it didn't.
Only the steady hum of the Void's wind filled the night.
Still, for the first time in a while… I smiled.
Because now, I knew something. There still hope