The rain hadn't stopped for three days.
It rolled off the cracked roof tiles of St. Haven Orphanage, dripping down rusted gutters and pooling in the courtyard where weeds had long conquered the old stone. The signboard, once painted bright blue, now hung crooked, its letters fading into ghosts of their former selves.
Inside, the halls were dimly lit, smelling faintly of wet wood and instant noodles. The laughter of children echoed faintly from the dining area — but not from the corner room at the end of the hall.
That room belonged to Eren and Riel.
---
Eren sat cross-legged on the floor, his back to the window, the faint glow of an old computer washing over his face. His dark hair stuck slightly to his forehead, and shadows clung beneath his eyes — the kind that came from too many sleepless nights.
The game's flickering light reflected in his pupils. Eternal Nexus.
> Just a little more, he thought, fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. Just a little more, and I'll reach Level 100…
The sound of laughter from outside the room faded as the hallway door creaked open.
"Eren," a soft voice called. "You skipped breakfast again."
Riel stepped inside — a small boy with messy brown hair and bright, gentle eyes. His thin arms clutched a tray with a bowl of rice, a few vegetables, and a small piece of bread.
Eren didn't look away from the screen. "You can have it, Riel. I'm not hungry."
"You said that yesterday."
"And the day before," Riel added, setting the tray on the desk.
---
A polite knock sounded from the hallway.
Mrs. Harven stood in the doorway, smiling that same careful smile she always wore.
"Oh, you boys again," she said sweetly, her tone dripping with warmth that didn't reach her eyes. "Still playing games instead of helping the younger ones, Eren?"
Eren froze, hands tightening on the keyboard. "I finished the chores this morning."
Her smile didn't falter. "Did you? Then perhaps you forgot the dishes. Or maybe the laundry. Such forgetful boys."
Riel lowered his gaze. "We'll do it, ma'am."
Mrs. Harven's heels clicked against the wooden floor as she stepped closer, her perfume faint but suffocating. She leaned in, brushing invisible dust off Riel's shoulder. "Good. I knew I could count on you two."
Then she turned, her smile fading the moment her back faced them. "Lights out by ten. I won't repeat myself."
The door closed.
For a moment, neither spoke. The rain filled the silence again.
"She doesn't like us," Riel whispered.
Eren sighed. "She doesn't like anyone. Don't think about it."
---
Later that night, the lights went out across the orphanage. The children slept, the wind howled outside, and Eren's room glowed faintly blue once again.
Riel lay curled under a thin blanket, his slow breathing mixing with the hum of the computer fan.
Eren stared at the screen. His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted the headset.
> Almost there, he told himself. I've been grinding this boss for months.
Lines of code scrolled across the game's interface, and the in-game dungeon roared to life — a massive beast made of stone and light lunged from the shadows.
Eren's heart pounded as he dodged and countered. Sparks danced across the screen, the monitor shaking with each impact.
He could almost feel the weight of his weapon. The world outside blurred away.
> Just one more strike.
---
The room door creaked.
Riel rubbed his eyes, standing at the doorway with a small tray in his hands.
"You're still up?" he murmured. "You didn't eat dinner again, so I brought something…"
Eren didn't hear him — his focus locked completely on the screen. The monster's HP bar hit zero.
A flash. A sound like static and thunder colliding.
[CONGRATULATIONS — LEVEL 100 ACHIEVED.]
[HIDDEN CONDITION UNLOCKED.]
[SYSTEM ACCESS GRANTED — SOUL SYNCHRONIZATION INITIALIZED.]
The lights in the room flickered. The computer screen pulsed, symbols of glowing blue code spilling out like ribbons of energy.
Riel's eyes widened. "Eren… what's happening?"
Eren tore off his headset, stepping back. "I—I don't know! It's not supposed to—"
A bright pulse exploded from the monitor, washing the room in pure white.
Riel dropped the tray, dishes shattering across the floor as he reached for his brother. "Eren!"
"Stay back—!"
The words never finished.
The world fractured — walls dissolving into static, the sound of thunder warping into digital hums. Eren felt his body stretch and scatter like pixels in the wind. Riel's small hand grasped his sleeve for a brief second before everything vanished into blinding light.
Then silence.
---
The computer screen flickered once.
Then twice.
And on its cracked surface, faint letters glowed:
[TRANSFER COMPLETE.]
---