KAI CHEN POV
"Let me out," the Grief King's digital ghost demands through every speaker in my studio. "I can destroy Feng's warriors in three seconds."
"Absolutely not," I say, backing away from the screens. "You're staying in quarantine until I figure out what you are."
Fifty armed warriors surround us. Director Feng looks like he wants to murder me with his bare hands. And now the ancient trauma-monster I just killed is living inside my game system, offering to help.
This is the weirdest day of my two lives.
"Stand down!" Feng barks at his warriors, though his eyes never leave the screens. "Nobody touches anything until we understand this... situation."
"Smart choice," the Grief King's voice purrs. "I'm currently integrated with every line of code in Kai's game engine. If you try to shut me down, I'll detonate the fear energy stored in all thirty VR pods. The explosion would level six city blocks."
Raze goes pale. "Is that true?"
I check my diagnostics. "Unfortunately, yes. The digital consciousness has root access to everything."
"Then we have a hostage situation," Feng says coldly. "The spirit is using Kai's technology as leverage."
"Wrong," the Grief King corrects. "I'm offering partnership. Kai gave me something nobody else has in five centuries—a choice to be more than my trauma. In exchange, I'll give him something nobody else has: a Progenitor-class spirit's knowledge and power, channeled through his game system."
Ashen steps forward. "Why should we trust you? You tried to destroy the city an hour ago."
"Because I understand now. Kai's games don't just generate fear—they process trauma. Transform it. Make it useful instead of destructive." The screens flicker with emotion I can't quite read. "I was trauma that only knew how to spread more trauma. He showed me a different way. I want to learn it."
Everyone looks at me. Feng with suspicion. Ashen with concern. Raze with his usual chaotic energy. Fifty warriors with weapons ready.
I'm an E-rank warrior making a decision that could save or doom an entire city.
No pressure.
"Okay," I say slowly. "I'll work with you. But on my terms. You stay in the game system. You don't access the real world. You don't hurt anyone. And if you break those rules, I'll delete every line of code you're hiding in, even if it kills me too."
Silence stretches.
Then: "Acceptable. I've lived five centuries as a monster. I can try being something else for a while."
Feng explodes. "You're making deals with a PROGENITOR? Are you insane? It's obviously lying—spirits don't change, they don't grow consciences, they don't—"
"Didn't you hear Kai's broadcast?" Ashen interrupts. "Everything you think you know about fear and power is wrong. He just proved it by defeating a Progenitor through psychology instead of violence. Maybe it's time to stop assuming spirits are only monsters."
"The Phantom General defending a criminal," Feng sneers. "How far you've fallen."
"I'm defending someone who saved millions of lives while you were busy trying to arrest him." Ashen's voice could cut steel. "Kai is worth more than your entire corrupt administration."
The way she says my name—fierce and protective—makes my heart do something stupid.
Feng's face twists with rage. "Fine. You want to tie yourself to this disaster? When it explodes, you'll burn with him. Both of you are suspended pending investigation. Get out of my sight."
He storms out with his warriors.
The moment they're gone, I collapse against the wall, shaking. "Did that actually just happen?"
"You made an alliance with a reformed trauma-god," Raze says, looking dazed. "Also, you're now city-famous, Association-suspended, and have the Phantom General as your personal bodyguard. Your life got really complicated really fast."
"Tell me about it." I look at the screens where the Grief King's consciousness waits. "So... you're really going to help?"
"I'm really going to try. But Kai?" The voice softens. "I'm not the only Progenitor. There are others older and stronger than me. When they learn what you can do—that you can reform us, delete us, or enslave us through your technology—they'll come for you. All of them."
My blood goes cold. "How many?"
"Seven. I was the youngest. The others make me look like a child."
"Great. Just great." I run my hands through my hair. "Any other terrifying news you want to share?"
"Yes. Your reincarnation didn't happen naturally. Someone or something BROUGHT you to this world deliberately. I sensed the transfer signature when I was in your mind—foreign energy from outside this reality. You were placed here with purpose."
The room spins. "What purpose?"
"I don't know. But whoever did it has power beyond anything in this world. And they're watching you."
Ashen grabs my arm, steadying me. "Kai? You okay?"
I'm not okay. I'm the furthest thing from okay. My reincarnation was PLANNED? By something powerful enough to move souls between worlds?
"I need air," I mumble. "And maybe to scream into a pillow for several hours."
Raze pulls up data on his phone. "Uh, guys? We have another problem. During Kai's broadcast, three million people tried to access Nightmare Studios' website. The server crashed. But before it did, over fifty thousand people pre-registered for game sessions."
"That's... that's good, right?" I ask weakly.
"It's overwhelming. We have three VR pods. Even running them 24/7, we'd need seventeen years to serve that many people." Raze looks at me. "Kai, you proved your system works. Now everyone wants it. You're not just running a small operation anymore—you're accidentally starting a revolution."
The weight of that hits me. Fifty thousand warriors waiting for my technology. Millions more who might want it. An entire system of corrupt fear-harvesting that I'm threatening just by existing.
"I can't do this alone," I whisper.
"You're not alone." Ashen squeezes my arm. "I'm with you. And apparently so is a reformed Progenitor spirit."
"Don't forget your favorite information broker!" Raze grins. "Someone has to keep you from dying of stress or assassination. Probably both."
Despite everything—the suspension, the threats, the cosmic forces apparently manipulating my life—I almost smile. "Thanks, guys."
The Grief King's voice interrupts: "This is touching, but we have immediate concerns. Director Feng will regroup and attack when you're vulnerable. I recommend upgrading your defenses."
"How? I'm suspended. No funding, no support—"
"You have something better than Association funding. You have public support." The screens fill with messages—thousands of warriors offering help, resources, protection. "Your broadcast changed everything. People are choosing you over the system."
I stare at the flood of support. Teachers, fighters, engineers, doctors—all offering their skills.
We could actually build something. A real alternative to the Association's corruption.
"Okay," I say, strength returning. "Raze, coordinate the volunteers. Ashen, help me plan defenses. Grief King—"
"Call me Rex. I've decided if I'm reforming, I need a less intimidating name."
"Rex. Sure. Okay." I shake my head at the absurdity. "Rex, help me design an upgrade to the game system. If Progenitors are coming, we need weapons that can fight them."
"Agreed. I have five centuries of knowledge about spirit weaknesses. Combined with your game design expertise..." Rex's voice carries dark amusement. "We could create nightmares that make ME look friendly."
We work through the night. Ashen stays beside me, her presence steady and comforting. Around 3 AM, during a quiet moment, she asks: "Kai? Earlier you said you've lived with fear for two lifetimes. What did you mean?"
I stop coding. She deserves truth.
"In my first life, I was Marcus Webb. Game designer. Workaholic. I died at 34 from a heart attack because I chose work over everything else." The words hurt to say. "I died alone, having wasted every chance at real connection. When I woke up here, I thought I got lucky—a second chance to matter, to build something meaningful."
"And now you find out it wasn't luck. Someone brought you here deliberately."
"Yeah." I laugh bitterly. "Turns out my second chance might just be someone else's game. I'm the player character and I don't even know who's holding the controller."
Ashen is quiet for a moment. Then: "Does it matter?"
"What?"
"Whether it was luck or purpose. You're here now. You're saving people. You made me feel human again." She meets my eyes. "Maybe whoever brought you here had plans, but what you DO with being here—that's your choice. Not theirs."
Something in my chest loosens. She's right. I can't control why I'm here, but I can control what I build.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
She smiles—rare and genuine. "Thank you for giving me something worth protecting besides revenge."
The moment stretches between us, warm and electric.
Then every screen EXPLODES with emergency alerts.
"WARNING: SIX PROGENITOR-CLASS SPIRITS DETECTED APPROACHING NEO-REQUIEM. ESTIMATED ARRIVAL: FOUR HOURS. THREAT LEVEL: EXTINCTION."
Rex's voice turns grim. "They're coming. All of them. They've sensed me helping you and decided you're too dangerous to live."
My phone rings. It's Director Feng.
"Kai Chen. The Association is evacuating the city. We estimate six million casualties if those Progenitors attack together." His voice is ice. "But I'm offering you a deal. Surrender yourself and your technology to me. I'll use it to negotiate with the Progenitors—offer you as tribute to save the city."
"You want me to die so you stay in power."
"I want you to die so seven million others don't. Make your choice, hero. Four hours."
He hangs up.
Ashen, Raze, and Rex all look at me.
"Well," I say, voice shaking but steady. "Guess we're building weapons faster than planned. Because I'm not dying today, and neither is this city."
Rex's laugh echoes through the speakers—dark and eager. "Finally. Let's show them what a game designer and a reformed monster can create when properly motivated."
I crack my knuckles and open the code editor.
Four hours to build a nightmare that can kill gods.
No pressure.