Episode 9. We Are Team? (4)

"...So what the hell was that earlier, anyway."

"What're you talking about?"

Aiden walked on, gripping Sephirah's wrists. He'd pulled her arms behind her back and clasped both wrists together with one hand to keep her from running. Her wrists were thinner than expected. Not strange given her height, but holding them now brought an uneasy feeling. They seemed so fragile, like they might snap with the slightest pressure.

"You know, that thing. The bug... no, the wall turning pink and all that."

"Shouldn't you know better than me?"

"Nah, I get what it is, but not why it happens... Wait, yeah. Thinking about it, asking you guys wouldn't get me anywhere. Sorry."

"What the— you bring it up and shut it down yourself."

Sephirah realized her mistake and shook her head. Right—they were NPCs, not people. Mention "bug" to them, and they'd probably just think of insects. Hard to explain it any other way, though. How do you tell someone that an NPC—a core part of the game's structure—is noticing glitches?

Do they still fix bugs if you report them these days...?

In the end, Sephirah decided to brush it off. If it was a bug, fine. If not... she'd see that "bug-like thing" again with the NPCs someday.

Time to switch topics. Something Aiden wouldn't mind.

"Oh, careful at this fork—take the wrong path and you end up in the cabin basement."

"Can't you just get out from there?"

"Huh. Yeah, you're right?"

"......"

The conversation died there. The topic was mundane enough, but Sephirah missed one key fact: Aiden didn't want pointless chit-chat at all. Anyone else, maybe. But not her.

"Hey, old man, how're we getting back anyway...? I just followed you without knowing where we were going."

"Same way we came. Soon as we check outside."

"Huh? What way? Oh, and how'd you even find me? No way to know where I was!"

"You'll see."

"Fiiiine. Not friends, got it......"

After an eternity, Sephirah finally shut up. Claire seemed to like the quiet, but then she gazed ahead and spoke.

"...Whoa, that's the outside."

Faint light filtered in from the dark cave's end. Moonlight. A chill breeze blew in slowly, carrying leaves that had fallen from trees just inside the entrance. No wind or fresh leaves moments ago.

"We're back."

Finally, they'd escaped the world they'd been trapped in for a full day.

"...We really took the long way around."

"Yeah. Wasn't supposed to take this long."

"You know it got delayed 'cause someone resisted, right?"

"That's why I let you catch me instead."

"Huh...?"

"Felt bad for wasting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time, so I surrendered nice and easy?"

Claire couldn't parse what thought process led to that. Wasn't it just that the old man caught her early, so no escape? No names exchanged, so no clue what to call him—or what he was thinking. Not like they'd see each other ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long enough for it to matter.

"...Hey, Aiden."

Sephirah spoke up then.

"I get we're not friends, but... one real favor?"

"Shoot."

"Before we go back... can we just find Loqi real quick...?"

Aiden paused. Considering the boy's age that Sephirah had hidden him away at, leaving him alone was trouble. His self-proclaimed guardian? None other than a Player. Probably another victim toyed with in Sephirah's "game." Once interest waned, he'd be discarded. Yet a gem special enough to draw Player attention.

"You know where he is?"

"...I'd have to look again. Maybe somewhere in the forest. If not, keep looking."

"Better save it for later, then."

"No, come on—that tanks my affinity!"

Sephirah protested. People keep promises, right? She'd sworn to grab him quick, but showing up a full day late? Aiden wouldn't care.

"Ugh, seriously—I just spent forever warming up to him. You gonna take responsibility if he ghosts me again? Huh?!"

"Sounds like it wasn't a real bond anyway."

"I was building to a real one when you showed up! This was prime daily life RP timing?"

"Dunno... should've been real from the start."

"Then you build a real one with him!!"

That's what she says. He'd humored her enough—time to head back.

"We're going. Stay close."

"At least drop us right in our rooms, old man......"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Wait, we're going now?"

Sephirah still wasn't satisfied.

"For real? Already?"

"No reason to stick around."

On second thought, grabbing the boy Sephirah wanted might not be bad. Officially, they were here for escaped thieves. But that excuse was just cover to avoid suspicion. He'd never planned what to do with Sephirah post-talk.

"Eh, aren't we forgetting something? Feels like it."

"Nope."

"No one's tailing us...?"

"Even if there was, they couldn't keep up."

"Not curious about that old guy underground? He was a Player too......"

"Why tangle with someone we don't need to? A Player, no less."

...Yeah, only Players welcomed other Players. The one NPC who knew them—Aiden—saw them as threats. No more excuses.

"...W-Well, then."

"Fast Travel."

"Ah, come on......!"

The escape that barely qualified as one ended like that.

"Ah, Loqi!! I'll be right there! Super quick! No need to wait ten nights—just like an hour or—"

Sephirah's near-hysterical shout echoed through the forest... then cut off mid-sentence. She hadn't expected it to carry. To Players, "Fast Travel" was just loading and time-stop—a system feature. No resources needed since it wasn't a skill. As a convenience, not a skill, vague actions like voice transmission mid-use shouldn't happen.

But her desperate yell—thought meaningless—reached someone.

"......?"

At the cave mouth, someone approached where the Player and NPCs had vanished. Footprints ended abruptly from Fast Travel. They looked skyward, then ground—no trace of movement. True quick relocation. An NPC wielding Player systems like in-world magic.

"......"

A silent old man with a rapier stood there. The lone watcher, Hasselhoff, emerged where no one remained. He'd planned to observe, intervene only if things settled—chat with Aiden then. But Aiden Fast Traveled the instant it wrapped.

The word "RESERVE" had slipped in between the ever-present level and mission list in the Player's peripheral vision. He'd set it to native language translation—not English—yet this unseen game term stuck under his nickname since... if memory served, following the "Find Aiden Oliver" hint.

From then, "Missions" vanished from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the main menu, canceling all saved ones.

Changes didn't stop there. Environment Settings showed garbled text and dead buttons.

He hadn't noticed at first—all expected options were there. But realizing the broken ones were "Save" and "Load" didn't take long.

Missions, save, load...

Core to any game: missions for motivation, free saves for progress. Even casuals knew that. No missions? Less reason to play. No saves in a solo game? Risk skyrockets.

Yesterday, after a full day, he'd quit fine—no issues. No updates on restart. How—

Rustle.

Bushes stirred. The Player turned, gripping a throwing dagger left-handed.

Bushes alone? Ignore it—wind, animal. But in a Stealth game, bush rustles meant "someone just hid there."

"......"

Aim ready at the last shaken spot, an aiming line extended from the dagger. A white dot marked center vision—system hint: any throw arcs to that spot.

No target locked, but he hurled at the bush's heart.

Thunk.

Tiny sound—game effect for dagger in plain dirt.

No hit. Unavoidable. Dead-center on motion, but no guarantee of contact. No charge? Probably nothing.

"...It's fine, gramps. I was hiding, but no fight in me."

Yet defying that, a boy rose from the dagger's bush.

A kid. Unseen face. Games avoided minors post-controversy over child death depictions.

But black hair, leather pouch-stuffed blackjack? Eerily familiar.

Loqi Mendacium...?

Loqi, the NPC he'd avoided post-bad first run.

"Just checking—know those folks who vanished from here?"

"......"

"...Or not. Whatever."

The Player accepted it easily. Years dodging Loqi blurred "original" game from anomalies. Just another ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unseen event.

As he eyed the new choice below—

UI corner: unknown counter.

What? Planned full runs, but so many unseen elements? No fill method for /100?

Questions swirled the old-man Player when—

"...A quest?"

His random pick answered via the boy's question.