Ellie glanced down at the small, armoured figure, then back at Rogue. The sheer absurdity of the situation was starting to give her a headache. She had a history exam to prep for and a pile of notes that weren't going to organise themselves, yet here she was, standing in a damp forest in a body that wasn't hers.
"Can I join your party to grind?" Ellie asked, her voice tight. "If this child is going to be my responsibility, I might as well stay here where I can see them."
Rogue stared at Liam, who was currently poking a dead toad with a curious finger, and then back to Ellie. He gave a casual, careless shrug. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Two front lines can't hurt. You're a Warrior, right? Your gear looks decent for a starter." He tapped a floating icon in his peripheral vision. "I'm going to keep streaming this, though I doubt anyone's going to watch a bunch of low-level hitting toads. Then again, watching a toddler eat poisonous organs has a certain car-crash appeal. You really should keep a leash on it, by the way."
Ellie rolled her eyes, her jaw clenching. The frustration was bubbling just under the surface. "It's not mine," she muttered, though the protest felt weak even to her. "I just feel… like I know it."
She didn't have time to elaborate. A few yards ahead, Mirra and Liam had already managed to aggro a fresh Rabbit Toad. The creature was hissing, its throat sac pulsing a violent shade of purple. Mirra was waving Rogue down frantically, her staff glowing with a pre-emptive heal.
[EllieTheWarrior] has joined your party.
A text box popped up in the centre of Ellie's vision, written in that familiar, deadpan font.
[Welcome, now please help with the toads] Liam had typed.
Ellie let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She stepped forward, her hand moving instinctively toward the child's head. She patted the top of the oversized iron helmet—a gesture of comfort or perhaps just a way to ground herself. She froze almost immediately, her hand lingering on the cold metal.
"…little thing?" she muttered under her breath, a flash of regret stinging her. Why was she being maternal? This was a video game.
Up close, the child was an enigma. The avatar was small and delicate, draped in heavy, mismatched plates. She couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl, and the longer she stared, the less the gender seemed to matter. It was the movement that was jarring. Most players on Day 1 were clumsy, over-excited, or constantly checking their menus.
This child moved with a terrifying, singular focus. They ignored the ambient noise of the forest, the chatter of the party, and even the looming presence of Elizabeth herself. There was a clinical efficiency to the way they navigated the brush—something that didn't make sense in a game where everyone was supposed to be exploring a fantasy.
Ellie tightened her grip on her sword and stepped into formation. I shouldn't be here, she thought. The regret was a dull ache. She'd only meant to log in for ten minutes to see the "Day 1" hype. Instead, she was deep in the Tana Forest with a mute kid who had a death wish and a Rogue who was probably recording her for clout.
Her eyes flicked toward the front again. The small frame moved without a shadow of hesitation. No second-guessing the path. No pausing to admire the scenery. Just relentless, purposeful steps, as if the forest were a math problem to be solved.
It reminded her sharply of someone.
An ache twisted tight in her chest. It was a memory from earlier that day—the award ceremony. She had seen him there: Liam Yoo. The boy who had taken second place. She remembered the way he had stood on that stage, tall and composed, looking as though the entire event were a mild inconvenience. He hadn't looked at the crowd or the cameras; he had looked through them.
The room had been buzzing with expectations, with noise, with the crushing pressure of being "the best." She had wanted to speak to him afterwards, to ask him how he stayed so calm, or if he felt the same suffocating weight she did. But the crowd had swallowed her, and by the time she pushed through the sea of suits and reporters, he was gone.
She looked at the small figure in front of her again, her gaze narrowing.
'…there's no way,' she thought.
But the thought was like a burr under her skin; it wouldn't let go. If anything, it grew stronger with every monster they encountered. The way the child ignored everything unnecessary. The way they focused entirely on the "ingredients" of the fight. It felt too deliberate to be a coincidence. It felt like him.
A Rabbit Toad lunged from the shadows, its body twisting unnaturally as it prepared to spit a glob of neurotoxic sludge.
"Left!" Mirra shouted.
Ellie reacted before she could even think. She stepped in, her boots skidding on the damp moss, and cut into the creature's side with a clean, controlled swing. The impact travelled up her arms, a heavy, solid vibration that felt more real than it had any right to. The toad was forced off balance, its spit-shot flying wide into a tree, where it hissed and dissolved the bark.
"Okay," Rogue said, whistling as he slipped behind the beast to deliver the finishing blow. "The new girl actually knows what she's doing."
"I'm not new," Ellie replied automatically, her eyes already scanning the brush for the next threat.
Mirra raised an eyebrow, a small, weary smile on her face. "Ellie, we are all new. It's Day 1, remember? Nobody is a veteran yet."
The child didn't look back to thank her. They didn't acknowledge Ellie's perfect timing or the fact that she had likely just saved them a costly potion. They simply moved forward, eyes locked on the next target as if nothing else in the world existed.
Ellie exhaled slowly, adjusting the weight of her sword. She felt a strange, begrudging respect bubbling up. '…Yeah,' she muttered, her eyes narrowing as she followed the tiny tank deeper into the dark.
Then, the world broke.
A low, guttural rumble rolled through the ground—not the sound of a large monster, but the sound of the world itself groaning. The trees flickered, their textures shivering and glitching into jagged purple polygons. The air grew heavy, smelling of rot and fermented fruit.
In the centre of the path, every Rabbit Toad in sight began to twitch. Their bodies rippled, multiplying and melting into one another in a sickening display of clipping errors and warped code. They were reforming into a writhing mass of matted fur, hundreds of twitching ears, and fangs that didn't fit into a single mouth.
[SPECIAL EVENT: Corrupted Feast Triggered!]
[Cause: Unnatural Consumption Detected.]
[Warning: Area Anomaly Incoming…]
Rogue's jaw dropped, his daggers hanging limp at his sides. "Uh. That… that wasn't in the wiki. This isn't a standard spawn."
Mirra's face went pale. She clutched her staff, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper as she looked at the child.
"Liam… what exactly did you eat?"
Liam didn't answer. He stood at the front of the group, his small shield raised, staring at the glitching nightmare with a look that wasn't fear.
It was hunger.