Episode 8. We Are Player. (5)
Have you ever seen a monster stray from its designated spot for no reason while playing a game? Probably not. Even if you have, it was likely just a glitch. Monsters have fixed positions. Easy enemies shouldn't spawn in hard areas. Hard enemies shouldn't appear in easy ones. Games must deliver the right experience at the precise moment. Their structures are so rigidly patterned that predicting events at any given point isn't too difficult.
But precisely because of that rigidity, something utterly unforeseen can throw you into panic.
"G-G-Ghost! For real, I'm not kidding, a real one! There's something up ahead!"
It was for this reason that Sephirah, for the first time, looked ready to burst into tears.
"H-Heyyy! You said to call you if a ghost showed up—it's here! It's here!"
"Pfft, as if ghosts exist in this world."
"That's what a priestess says?! I know everything that exists in this world!"
"And you just said nothing would show up."
"Sorry for pretending to know...!"
The player tucked her tail without hesitation. Whatever she'd glimpsed beyond the hole had her so terrified that she'd uttered the word "ghost," desperately seeking the priestess's aid. Suddenly, the player seemed almost approachable.
"Whaaat...? You'd probably just scold it, old man. What did you even see?"
"...A person."
"Pardon?"
"Dressed formally, standing stock-still, staring this way... a person like that."
Claire tilted her head, rolling her eyes.
"Then it's not a ghost."
"Ghosts that look like people are a dime a dozen."
"Maybe it's just a person...?"
"No way a person would be in a place like this! A ghost would be better! At least they'd have some grudge left, but a person? What the hell?!"
When you hear a noise in an empty house, is it better if it's a ghost... or a person?
If it had been something fitting for the location, like a monster, Sephirah wouldn't have freaked out. But a person in a place where no person should be—that was the problem.
"You make it sound creepy, but in the end, that's not my department, is it?"
"True... there's a specialist for dealing with people."
Sephirah glanced cautiously at Aiden. She stowed her wand—which she'd clutched even while resting—into her inventory, flashed a careful smile, and lifted the corner of her mouth.
"Do it."
She made the shameless request.
"...You're asking because you're scared right now?"
"Yup."
"And nothing's happened while we've been standing here."
"It might trigger when we approach."
Her own life came first, apparently. Fair enough for other things, but these two weren't "friends" by any stretch.
"Since when do we ask favors like that?"
"...I thought we'd gotten a little closer."
"Not at all."
"Then what are we?!"
"Victim and perpetrator."
"...Fair point."
It was a fact Sephirah conveniently forgot, but Aiden was no longer a tutorial NPC. Starting from zero affinity, their first encounter had been disastrous, so he'd avoided her to prevent any dips—and she'd come seeking him out. Showing this pathetic, frightened side repeatedly was definitely not helping her case.
"...Fine. Might be nothing, so I'll just check."
"If you run—"
"Run?! You two stay put! I'll go and come back, so don't you dare vanish. If that cliché happens, I'll really cry!"
She jabbed a warning finger, then finally dragged her heavy feet toward the hole. Right. No reason to be scared. Even if no other person should be here, whatever it was, it was just a game NPC.
"Yeah, Sephirah. No need to freak. It's all zeros and ones anyway. Nothing to fear...!"
"Old man, wanna pretend we're gone and climb up for a sec?"
"I HEARD THAT!!"
"Just trying to ease the tension."
"I'll get mad for real?!"
For all her words, some fear had ebbed; Sephirah advanced without further hesitation. Even knowing it's fake doesn't make scary not scary. Like a haunted house—you know it's fake, but it still spooks you. So, to stay less frightened, the best was casual, everyday chatter.
"I-I'm approaching? Even if no reply comes, just assume it's fine?"
"That'd be inconvenient."
"It's—it's an old man! No weapons or anything!"
As she drew nearer, Sephirah could make out the "person" more clearly and began chattering about his appearance.
"Oh, fancy clothes. Leather... uh, leather armor? Real clean and expensive-looking."
"Noble?"
"N-No way a noble's here. So what the hell is this thing in front of me...?"
Sephirah's form was vanishing into the darkness. Her clothes were visible from afar, but real interaction required getting closer. Activating Focus to track the player, Aiden confirmed both the "person" ahead and Sephirah's movements.
"And, uh, white hair and beard. Good, doesn't lunge now that I'm close... feeling a bit less tense."
"What if you touch it?"
"That'd be... nah. Even touching does nothing!"
Peering through the dark with Focus, Aiden saw Sephirah lie without even pretending to touch.
"Don't mess around."
"...You saw?"
"......"
"Ah, damn iiiit."
Sephirah's hand—sans wand—trembled as it rose. Like facing something deadly, she'd extend it, then pull back. But retreating without touching, with Aiden watching? No guarantee it stayed still untouched. So, ever so lightly, she brushed the motionless old man's shoulder.
"...Phew."
Nothing happened. Emboldened, she poked twice more, placed her palm, even waved in front. His stern gaze never shifted. If those eyes flicked and glared now, it'd be terrifying.
"All good, nothing happened. Ta-da!"
Aiden saw Sephirah proudly spread her arms, then punch the old man's chest—embarrassed by her fear?—and nearly blast him with wand magic before stopping. Why even do that?
"Anyway, this old guy's harmless. Don't recognize the face, so probably nobody special."
"Hm......"
From Aiden's spot, only Sephirah was clear; beyond her, darkness obscured everything. As he pondered advancing to see the "person" himself, Sephirah halted him.
"Ah, ah, don't come closer now. I'll turn back your way, then you can look or not."
"Old man, why's your friend so weird?"
"Scared it'll move if anyone else approaches!!"
"You really hang with the strangest people, old man."
...Tension shattered.
Was the ominous feeling just imagination? No, not entirely. A player like Sephirah—who knew so much unnaturally—wouldn't panic over the unknown otherwise.
Her description rang true. Focus couldn't discern colors, but the sharp eyes and standout leather armor matched. The player, clueless and terrified, hid nothing.
"Come back quick. I'll check."
"O-Okay. Heading back now?"
Sephirah backed away slowly from the "motionless old man." Pitch black. In the unlit tunnel, only the old man's blank expression silently watched her. Rigid posture, unmoving despite hits and prods, unblinking, staring straight ahead.
Not at anything specific. NPCs might be before him, but his gaze fixed on none.
Finally, a bit of relief.
"Phew......"
As Sephirah turned her back, confirming no other actions—
"......!"
The old man's eyes shifted. He eyed the nearby player and stepped toward her.
"Sephirah, behind you!!"
Hearing Aiden, Sephirah whirled—but Aiden was already charging. Still, she was closer to the old man.
"Gah......!"
As his step became a stride, Sephirah realized and gripped her wand. They say extreme fright stifles screams. The terrified player stayed oddly calm, flicking fingers to hurl star-like Magic Missiles at his head.
Clink.
The sound was unexpected. No magic whoosh, no clash—just cold metal slotting into place. If described in player terms...
The sound of a protagonist equipping a weapon.
"Wait, what......!"
Suddenly, a rapier filled the old man's right hand, a small dagger his left. A scabbard now hung at his waist.
Whoosh.
The dagger swept, erasing one magic bolt; chained stars vanished in successive strikes. A perfect parry—textbook player knowledge.
Sephirah had relaxed briefly. Atmosphere aside, it'd vanish under attack like any "character."
'How's an NPC parrying like th—'
Miscalculation. The old man deflected every blow with lifeless eyes, advancing slowly. Hollow, oppressive gaze closing in. Beyond age-defying white muscles, wrinkled hand extending, inching closer.
"That's far enough."
Aiden and Claire wedged between them.
"Whoever you are, move again and it'll get annoying."
"......"
"Old man, you don't know this guy, right?"
Claire's dagger hovered at the old man's throat, poised to strike. In the tight space, Aiden prepped magic over sword. A tiny flame flickered at his fingertips, illuminating around.
The old man's torso emerged from shadow.
"We've been right here. How are you here, and why'd you stand still?"
"......"
"...No answer."
The situation felt eerily familiar. Up close, his look matched the description: black leather armor, brown boots and gloves. Only difference: now armed.
"...What do you want."
His face too: snow-white hair and trimmed beard, deep wrinkles, and...
Encountered Player.
As eyes met, the old man and Aiden's expressions shifted in unison. Pure surprise for him; bafflement for Aiden.
A player, as suspected. Sephirah—who knew too much—had admitted ignorance. No full certainty before, but now...
Dangerous. How he was here didn't matter. His attitude unknown, only he knew what came next.
Now, what to do.
"...Quest."
Then, the old man spoke.
"I desire a quest."