Episode 12: Stealth (1)
‘Ah, right.’
Three minutes ago, right after hanging up, Sephirah suddenly remembered something she’d forgotten.
She’d been dying to tell Aiden about it out of sheer curiosity, and yet she’d totally spaced. Was there any other idiot like her?
Steel ing herself, Sephirah opened her system window and activated Telepathy. She couldn’t head over right away, but she had to get it out before forgetting again.
“Aiden, you there? I’ve got something to say.”
> —What is it. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of coming over again.
“Whoa, hold on. I’ll wrap up what I’m doing quick and come over.”
> —Fine… What’s this about?
Aiden’s tone still carried that wary edge toward players. Their affinity wasn’t high enough for friendliness yet. Or maybe this was him trying to be friendly.
“There’s something I wanna tell you. I keep thinking about it but forgetting, so here goes.”
> —You could’ve just said it when you were here… Fine. Spit it out.
“Just so you know, this isn’t me trying to frame anyone or stir up trouble, okay?”
> —I’ll believe you, so hurry up.
“Your friend… Claire.”
Sephirah paused, expecting Aiden to cut her off. It was the classic setup: he’d snap at her not to badmouth people. But no matter how long she waited, no anger came.
> —…What about her? No one else is listening but me right now.
“Oh, no! I mean, well. The thing is.”
Well, at least he wasn’t mad. Good enough.
“About Claire—I’m seeing her for the first time this loop.”
> —First time? What do you mean?
“I’m a player. Like it or not, I run into flashy types like you all the time. Get what I’m saying?”
> —So you’re saying you’ve never seen Claire before, all this time?
“Exactly! See, our Aiden gets it.”
> —And what’s that supposed to mean?
Aiden didn’t find it odd that players wouldn’t know about an NPC’s existence. Fair enough. Whatever players looked like in his head—whether on the surface or in reality—they were just ordinary folks. But players always documented and shared every scrap of game info on wikis and guides. A vague “parallel world” excuse covered it nicely.
“Yeah, you might not know. So I checked, and in other worlds, she’s just living a normal life.”
> —And?
“Aiden, normal. She can’t even fight—no special traits, just a plain priestess! Doesn’t that clash with the Claire by your side?”
Claire. Originally, she’d been a nameless, story-less NPC with nothing but pretty modeling going for her. No linked quests. Just a background “village nun” type—barely more than a moving mannequin, really.
But suddenly, that mannequin got a name and skills, and before long, she was sidled up next to a major NPC.
As a player substitute.
“Whaaat… Just something to keep in mind. It’s unusual, that’s all. Nothing bad’s gonna come of it.”
> —Noted.
“The biggest change from what I knew is you, anyway! This unreal… Ugh, she hung up!”
Click. Aiden cut the connection.
He hadn’t even responded, yet it felt like a scolding to hurry up and come over. Why was that?
Whatever. She could head there now anyway, no rush needed.
“Haa… Done.”
“Good job, Loqi. I’ll grab you a snack later.”
“This is how you loosen up this old geezer’s tongue? Making him give a hundred different responses.”
Loqi sighed, rubbing his sore jaw. He’d obliged the requests for tasty food and shiny trinkets, but still.
It was necessary, though. The method to shift a player’s dialogue from “choices” to “voice.”
Chatting with NPCs via set options a fixed number of times. Sephirah had gotten her voice the same way; the second player would too.
“Grandpa—no, Hasselhoff?”
“……”
“Dunno why I only needed thirty and you took a hundred… But now you can talk with your mouth, right?”
“Ah… Ahh…”
Sephirah smiled slyly as the old man brought a hand to his mouth, trying to make sounds.
“Ha.”
Relationship formation: success.
Three minutes later, Sephirah grabbed Aiden and Claire’s hands and triggered Fast Travel to a distant region.
Everything in view vanished. The city’s buildings and people gave way to a white void filling the world, but the two linked by her grip didn’t fade.
It’s like a dream.
Nothing had color but the three of them. No light or shadows to gauge the floor, yet Aiden stood firm on two feet, gripping Sephirah’s hand without a stumble.
A world where letting go might mean endless falling—and a tiny curiosity to test it.
“Sephirah… miss?”
In that silent world, Claire spoke first. Sephirah’s face twisted slightly at the awkward honorific.
“Noo, what kinda title is that? Just call me casual.”
“Umm… Sephirah.”
“Not bad.”
“Sis?”
“Waaah, you’ll call me that?”
“No way, what are we, family?”
“Tch.”
The two didn’t seem fazed. Sephirah had explained the loading phenomenon ahead, so no surprise there.
“Ah, loading’s done.”
With those words, the world snapped back to familiar shapes. Color overlaid the alien, shadowless white. Blurry resident forms sharpened into outlines, then buildings stacked up one by one.
Less like traveling to a village, more like the village assembling itself.
“Here. A tiny village some player swept through just yesterday… Can’t even remember the name.”
“This is it?”
“What’s wrong? Too small for you?”
“No… It’s too peaceful.”
The dark, gruesome image in Aiden’s head was utterly debunked. Sephirah had only said a player “stirred things up”—not killed or destroyed. His assumptions were off-base; no wonder it didn’t match.
“Yeah. Sephirah, this the right spot?”
“Hmm… Yeah. But compared to how I hyped it, nothing seems off.”
The issue wasn’t just clashing with expectations—it didn’t match her words either.
The village was serene. Everyone milling about felt utterly everyday; no one hinted at recent drama.
Just a small village.
“Ah, how do I explain this with an analogy…”
“Get to the point. I won’t pry deep.”
“For real? Really?”
Sephirah, muttering to herself in thought, turned to Aiden with a grin. Big dilemma, apparently.
He nodded, and she eagerly opened up.
“What I said happened yesterday. Rich guy got mugged, witnesses grabbed, guards couldn’t lift a finger. They all bolted in the end.”
“…What?”
“Your hunch was right, Aiden.”
Aiden scanned the village again at her words. It didn’t add up. Guards patrolled with spears, but no vibe of trauma. How could such horror pass through a place this calm?
“No, that doesn’t make sense. If someone died like you said, a tiny village like this couldn’t stay so peaceful…”
“A place where one death would spread like wildfire, right?”
“…Yeah, no signs of any incident.”
Sephirah reacted to Claire’s awkward interjection midway.
“Signs? Right here. One’s left.”
She pointed at the ground. What he’d thought was ordinary dirt felt off. Darker, murkier than usual. Scorched, irregular patches radiated from where they stood. Shards from a shattered bottle littered it.
Big enough to notice on approach, yet people stepped on the glass carefree, ruining their shoes.
“They can’t perceive it?”
“Yup.”
“How? Who made people like this?”
“The world itself.”
Aiden wouldn’t know, and he was too focused to question deeply right now. Trusting his “no deep prying” promise, Sephirah simplified the game’s systems.
NPC bodies get cleaned by the game. Vanished NPCs respawn in the same shell, sans dissonance.
You two are different, though.
Some smartening NPCs might loop back annoyingly, but she pressed on.
“Player mischief gets covered in hours, back to ‘nothing happened.’ Broken junk fixes itself; people live on like no neighbor died. Like this.”
“……”
“Big enough chaos sticks, but village-scale stuff? Poof. Even this blast mark’ll vanish soon.”
“I see…”
Aiden couldn’t look away from Sephirah. How did she know all this? Unsettling thoughts budded.
Player common knowledge? Optimism faded fast. Her casual delivery alone distanced her mindset from his.
She’s done it herself, that’s how.
As she admitted, whims drove her actions. A different breed.
For now, in-game only.
“You brought us ’cause there’s still something we can do?”
“That player’ll probably swing back after lunch today. They’re hooked now.”
Sephirah glanced skyward, muttering it was 11 a.m., then continued.
“Won’t be a crybaby runner like me, though? Could get dangerous. Honestly, ignoring it’s an option—no big incident anyway.”
She meant it. Her bonding with Aiden didn’t guarantee others would care for latecomers.
Tiny village, no key NPCs—deaths reset quick. Treating it as “nothing” wasn’t wrong.
But…
“You can’t buy that, huh?”
An NPC like Aiden wouldn’t swallow it. He was already striding past her into the village, Claire trailing.
Sephirah glanced back at them.
“You’ll spot players at a glance. Rowdy like me, mischievous look—player.”
“Like you, Sephirah?”
“Ugh… Yeah, like me.”
Her star-shaped pupils? Her choice. And it wasn’t like mischievous faces made enemies.
“And? More advice?”
“And? Hmm, umm…”
Pondering Aiden’s question, the little player lit up with a tip.
“Aiden, that skill you used three days ago—you called it a Genre, right? Sounds like terms I’d know.”
“Yeah.”
“You named it, so there’s gotta be more than one.”
“……”
Aiden nodded; Sephirah spread her ten fingers, folding one.
“I’ll recommend one Genre before I head back.”