Be a Player 25. Episode 6.5. To Another World (4)
Night had fallen. In reality, and in the game as well.
The events of the day lingered in her mind like a vivid dream from childhood, the kind she'd mull over lying in bed after a school picnic.
What Sephirah had experienced was utterly extraordinary. And at the same time, utterly bewildering.
"Ughhh, time flew by already..."
Lounging on the luxurious bed, Sephirah stretched with a massive yawn. It was just a game, so no real refreshment came from it, but skipping ingrained habits felt weirdly off—especially now, with all this unexpected downtime.
Unlike earlier, she had nothing pressing to do. And that was possible because she was in a player's ajiit—a personal hideout you could pour resources into across playthroughs without it vanishing on reset. No investment felt wasted here.
This place alone welcomed Sephirah back after years away, just as it always had.
Aiden's probably asleep. It's late, after all.
Not just Aiden—most NPCs would be too. Curled up in their designated "homes" until six a.m., doing absolutely nothing.
With nothing left to do naturally, Sephirah pulled up the main menu to sort through the day's chaos.
That's when she spotted the new change.
Where'd this go?
The quests were gone.
Not the ones she'd accepted—no, she'd never taken any from an NPC since starting.
Just as doubt about their existence started creeping in, the main menu shifted.
The middle slot, once labeled Missions, had vanished entirely. Unselectable. Now it sat empty between Map and Inventory, while Save and Load remained untouched elsewhere.
It was fine this morning. Another 'change,' huh?
This game was infamous for its endless barrage of big and small missions—enough to bore completionists who wouldn't touch it unless they could clear every challenge.
Could a game like that just lose its missions?
How the hell am I supposed to level up now...?
Missions vanishing spelled trouble. She had no clue why the game was doing this, but it sucked. In a game built around quest EXP—generous compared to grinding—quests were key for levels, cash, and story beats.
A game where systems vanish in real-time. Impressive.
Sephirah tabled the worry and got up. If it was a system gone rogue, no player willpower could fetch it back. And no quests didn't mean zero EXP or gold.
Fine, whatever. On to the next thing.
Without missions, what mattered most now? Where to find compelling stories to share with fellow players?
"Fine, you win, Loqi."
Aiden Oliver. And somewhere in this ajiit, Loqi Mendacium.
Two NPCs whose paths she'd altered by meddling as a player. Sephirah was betting on them.
But first, one issue: track down Loqi.
"I give up, so quit hiding and come out already?"
Embarrassing, but true—she had no idea where he was. He'd vanished mid-convo once she realized he could hear her, and even Focus showed no footprints this time. Top-tier thief for a reason.
She'd waited, figuring no escape from a sealed ajiit. Eight hours later... still nothing.
Loqi Mendacium, you little shit. Same antics from early game to late.
"You hear me? Yeah, thought so. This place is cut off from everywhere—no escape routes."
By design, the ajiit entrance was collapsed; only the owner could enter via special means, making it a true personal base. Weird even for a game, but it kept the spot safe from world crises.
That convenience trapped Loqi now.
"So come out already. Let's grab a bite."
No reply. Not even a hint he'd found a loophole.
"You're sleepy too, right? It's night. Just snack and crash. No?"
Impossible—he couldn't leave. He'd be lurking, silent, listening.
Why, though?
"Did I mess up somehow...? Huh? Something bug you?"
Honestly, Sephirah could guess. She'd always picked the mysterious dialogue options. No wonder his affinity tanked.
"Yeah, I get I screwed up, more or less..."
But eight hours? Was that choice that bad? Maybe Loqi was just touchy—or she'd botched something else?
"Did I really fuck up big time?"
For the first time since restarting, unease hit Sephirah.
What now?
If she'd built irreparable resentment, was the story veering to failure? From abandoning him, botched rescue timing, tone-deaf talk... whatever, how to fix it?
No walkthroughs, no prompts. Just her.
"...I brought you here because I want to help you."
Easy fix: starve him out. He'd emerge eventually.
But that ignored the future. No way.
So, honesty it was.
"Look... yeah, I talked weird. Sounded nice but shady, dodging your questions about why help you."
"......"
"That was my best answer, though. Hard to be straight-up. Easier to play coy."
If fully honest? I'm the player, saw your powered-up future endings, wanna recruit early? Even if an NPC bought it, she wouldn't say it. Broke immersion, smashed the fourth wall—taboo.
Better vague 'future knowledge' excuses, even.
"But this much is true: you're amazing, I knew it, so I approached."
"......"
"Don't buy it? Fair. When confidence's low, you think you're nothing."
"......"
"But I still can't find you, Loqi."
"Then."
Sephirah's eyes flew wide. She'd relaxed amid the one-sided yelling.
Progress!
"Say it so I get it."
"Sure."
"What do you want from me? What're you planning?"
No prompts now. Her words alone.
"Planning? Nothing set. Wasn't like 'secure him for X.'"
"Then what the hell was—"
"I do want something. From the start, really."
"What?"
"You not going astray later."
Loqi Mendacium: infamous, luxury-drunk villain by default.
Snag him pre-derailment? Lose a late-game rival, gain a powerhouse ally.
Cliché as hell, overdone.
"Thrive in shadows, all you get is infamy. Don't you want normal too? The you I know does."
"...So you'll make me normal?"
Sephirah nodded. "Yeah. That kid-task earlier? Wanted to see who child-you was. No more of that."
"Nothing from me?"
"Later, maybe. You'll beg to hang out. Not now."
A thud behind her. She spun—Loqi, one knee down in landing pose.
Shed guessed wrong; he'd been elsewhere all along.
"One last thing."
No more hiding. He approached, guards down more than ever.
"Why that goal?"
Sephirah wanted his redemption. All the attention, support—it stemmed from her as player.
But why that mindset?
"Reason?"
Simple. Humans weren't efficient. Lazy, desire-driven, reckless sans grand motive.
Sephirah too.
Efficiency? She'd be elsewhere, game unstarted.
No grand reason.
Just...
"'Cause it's fun."
