Endless Online

The road did not feel the same anymore.

That was the first thing Hilda noticed.

The North Road—simple, familiar, designed for beginners—had always carried a sense of safety. Predictability. Even its darkness had rules. But now, as the three of them stood just beyond the sealed stairway, the air felt thinner, stretched too tight across something unseen.

Like a surface about to tear.

Jason was still catching his breath, lying back in the grass with one arm over his eyes.

“I vote,” he said between breaths, “we never go underground again.”

“No,” Hilda replied flatly. “You don’t.”

He groaned. “I hate this team dynamic.”

Merlina said nothing.

Her attention was fixed on her wrist.

The mark had grown.

It was no longer just a thin black line—it had begun to branch, delicate tendrils curling outward like ink dropped into water. It moved slowly, but undeniably, shifting beneath her skin as if searching for something.

Jason sat up when he noticed her silence.

“…that’s new,” he said.

Hilda stepped closer. “What is it?”

Merlina studied it with unsettling calm. “A tether.”

Jason blinked. “A what?”

“It touched me,” she said. “Not physically. Structurally. This is how it stays connected.”

Hilda’s expression hardened. “Can you remove it?”

Merlina didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she raised her staff and traced a small circle of runes in the air. The symbols flared violet, then pressed down against her wrist, attempting to isolate the mark.

For a moment—

It worked.

The black tendrils recoiled slightly, tightening inward as though resisting containment.

Then—

They pushed back.

Hard.

The runes shattered like glass.

Merlina’s hand jerked, and she exhaled sharply—not in pain, but in realization.

“It’s anchored deeper than I thought.”

Jason stood. “Okay. I don’t like the word ‘anchored’ in this situation.”

Hilda crossed her arms. “Then we cut it out.”

“No,” Merlina said immediately.

Both of them looked at her.

“It isn’t just on me,” she continued. “It’s tied to the system layer beneath this region. If I sever it blindly…”

She let the sentence trail off.

Jason tilted his head. “We explode?”

“Or worse,” Merlina said quietly.

That was enough to end that line of thinking.

For a moment, the three of them stood in silence, the weight of what had just happened settling into something heavier than fear.

Understanding.

Hilda broke it first.

“We need information,” she said. “We can’t fight something we don’t understand.”

Jason nodded. “Agreed. Preferably information that doesn’t involve creepy underground staircases.”

Merlina looked back toward Aeven.

The town lights flickered faintly in the distance.

“It’s already spreading,” she said.

Hilda followed her gaze. “Then we start there.”

🕯️ Return to Aeven

The walk back felt longer than before.

Not physically—but perceptually.

The fields had changed.

Grass bent in patterns that didn’t match the wind. Shadows stretched in directions that ignored the moon. And once—just once—Jason swore he saw the road split in two for a heartbeat before snapping back into place.

“You saw that too, right?” he asked.

Hilda didn’t answer.

Merlina did.

“Yes.”

That was worse.

When they reached the edge of town, the first thing they noticed was the crowd.

Players.

More than before.

Dozens gathered near the square, their voices overlapping in confusion and frustration.

“…my quest changed—”

“—it says incomplete—what does that even mean—”

“—NPC just stopped talking—”

Hilda pushed forward. “Move.”

The crowd parted instinctively at her tone.

At the center of the square—

The fountain.

It had changed again.

The black water was gone.

Replaced with clear liquid that flowed normally.

Too normally.

Jason frowned. “That looks… fixed?”

Merlina stepped closer.

“No,” she said softly. “It’s hiding.”

The surface of the water reflected the lanterns perfectly now. The buildings. The sky.

And the three of them.

Except—

Merlina’s reflection lagged.

Just slightly.

Jason saw it too. “Yeah, okay, that’s not subtle.”

Hilda turned. “We need to clear this area.”

Before she could say more—

A system message rang out.

Loud.

Clear.

Unmistakable.

GLOBAL EVENT DETECTED

Region: Aeven

Status: Desynchronization

Warning: Multiple quest paths unstable

The crowd erupted.

“What does that mean?!”

“Is this an event?”

“Did the devs do this?!”

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “That’s new. That is very new.”

Merlina didn’t react to the message.

She was staring at the fountain.

At her reflection.

It moved—

Before she did.

Just slightly.

Then it smiled.

Her real face did not.

Jason saw it and immediately stepped back. “Nope. Nope, absolutely not.”

Hilda drew her sword. “Everyone back!”

Players scrambled, panic spreading through the square.

The water rippled.

Not from movement.

From within.

And then—

The reflection stepped forward.

Out of the surface.

It rose like liquid given form—perfectly shaped, perfectly detailed, identical to Merlina in every way—

Except the eyes.

They were completely black.

The copy tilted its head.

“You left too soon,” it said.

In Merlina’s voice.

Merlina stepped forward instead of back.

Jason grabbed her arm. “Hey—bad idea.”

She pulled free.

“No,” she said. “It wants me.”

Hilda moved beside her. “Then it goes through us.”

The copy smiled wider.

“That’s already happened.”

The mark on Merlina’s wrist burned.

She flinched—

And the copy mirrored it.

Jason’s eyes widened. “It’s linked to you.”

“Yes,” Merlina said.

The copy stepped fully onto the stone edge of the fountain. The water behind it stilled completely, like a surface waiting for something else to emerge.

“You opened the road,” it said softly. “You saw what was below.”

Merlina’s grip tightened on her staff. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neither are you.”

The words landed harder than they should have.

For a moment—

Silence.

Then the copy raised its hand.

The crowd froze.

Not by fear.

By force.

Every player in the square locked in place, their movements halted as if the system itself had paused them.

Jason tried to move—

Couldn’t.

“What—what is this—”

Hilda strained against it, muscles tightening. “It’s controlling the field.”

Merlina alone remained unaffected.

Of course.

The copy smiled again.

“You’re already inside the boundary,” it said.

The mark on her wrist pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Merlina stepped forward.

“Then let’s test that.”

Her staff flared.

Runes ignited—brighter than before, sharper, more defined.

The air around her distorted.

The copy’s expression flickered.

For the first time—

Uncertainty.

“You’re learning faster than expected,” it said.

Merlina didn’t stop.

“You’re not a creature,” she said. “You’re a function.”

The copy tilted its head.

“Partially correct.”

“An echo,” she continued. “A system fragment. Something that was supposed to stay below.”

The copy’s smile faded.

Now—

It was listening.

“And now you’re leaking upward,” Merlina finished. “Using quests. NPCs. reflections.”

Jason, still frozen, muttered, “Really wish I could contribute right now.”

The copy took a step closer.

“Then you understand,” it said.

Merlina’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” she said.

“And that’s why I’m going to stop you.”

The runes around her staff surged.

The mark on her wrist flared in response—

Black meeting violet—

Two forces colliding.

The copy’s expression twisted.

For a moment—

It destabilized.

Its form flickering between solid and liquid.

The fountain behind it cracked.

Water spilled upward instead of down.

The crowd remained frozen.

The world—

Strained.

Then—

The copy laughed.

Soft.

Almost amused.

“You can’t stop something that already exists,” it said.

The mark burned hotter.

Merlina gritted her teeth.

“Watch me.”

The air shattered.

Light and shadow collided—

And the square exploded into motion.

Players stumbled as control returned.

Water crashed back into the fountain.

The copy—

Was gone.

Just like that.

As if it had never been there.

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Uncertain.

Jason staggered forward, catching himself. “Okay—okay—I think I officially hate reflections now.”

Hilda scanned the area. “Is it gone?”

Merlina looked at her wrist.

The mark had changed again.

It had grown—

And now, it formed a symbol.

One she hadn’t seen before.

One that made her stomach drop.

“No,” she said quietly.

“It’s not gone.”

She looked back at the fountain.

At the water.

At the reflection that now moved perfectly in sync.

“For the first time,” she added,

“It’s inside the surface world.”