His fist broke through my initial defense, forcing me back as I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding his second fist slamming into the concrete and sending fractures radiating outward. Blackfist stood motionless for a moment, his twisted smile illuminated by faint sparks of black energy crackling around his body.

  "You think you're clever, don’t you?" he said, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of contempt and satisfaction. "This is your chance, Astraeus. Show me what that overhyped reputation is worth."

  I steadied myself, my grip tightening on my twin swords. "A true player only reveals their trump card at the right time. And this? This is far from over, Blackfist."

  The air around him distorted as his fists began to glow with glitch-like energy. He smirked. "You don’t understand. This isn’t just about power—it’s about perfection. And today, I’ll show you what it means to face a master."

  He charged forward with impossible speed, his first strike coming down hard. I parried with my Unbidden Blade, sparks flying as our weapons met. The force pushed me back, but I used the momentum to spin and counter, striking at his exposed side. He twisted unnaturally mid-air, avoiding my blade by a hair’s breadth, and retaliated with a kick aimed at my chest.

  I activated Light Step, darting to the side just in time. "Your reflexes are impressive," I admitted, readying myself for his next move. "But this isn’t Royale Online. You’re not the only one who can adapt."

  His eyes narrowed. "Royale Online?" He scoffed. "You remember, don’t you? I was the first. The first to lead. The first to dominate. Until you came along, dragging everyone into your twisted little playground. You turned my game into a circus."

  I blinked, realization dawning. "Bokken... You’re the old Sun Bringers’ guild leader."

  "Finally figured it out," he sneered. "You ruined everything. You took the balance we built and shattered it with your ‘perfect builds.’ You stole the spotlight. The fame. The respect. And then... you left. You abandoned the wreckage you created. But not me. I adapted. I survived."

  "And now you're trying to settle a grudge in a completely different game?" I asked, sidestepping another punch. "Sounds like someone who can’t move on."

  His smile faded, replaced by a cold glare. "This isn’t just a game anymore. This is evolution."

  As he lunged again, I noticed his movements becoming erratic, flickering like a corrupted file. His strikes were still precise, but the way his body moved—jerky and unnatural—was wrong. I dodged another flurry of punches and activated Dark Pact: Stamina Drain, forcing him to work harder for each strike.

  "You think leveling up changes anything?" he taunted, his voice distorting. "I’m level 100, just like you. But I have the Architects behind me."

  I froze briefly. "The Architects?"

  He smiled darkly, his voice shifting into a monotone, almost robotic cadence. "Do you want to live in a world that death can’t touch? A world where a child will never know hunger? Where pain is a thing of the past? The Architects offer salvation. And you... you stand in their way."

  Before I could respond, his avatar flickered violently. "System Override: Blackfist_DesignationAlpha. Directive: eliminate." the voice was monotone and sounded like a distorted AI

  "What the hell...?" I muttered, stepping back as his body glitched, polygons peeling away before snapping back into place.

  He resumed his attack, faster and more brutal than before. I blocked and parried, but his strikes chipped away at my stamina. He didn’t move like a player anymore—he moved like a machine.

  "You’re not even in control, are you?" I said, deflecting another blow and countering with Arcanic Blast, the impact knocking him back slightly.

  His head jerked unnaturally, his voice warping. "Control? The Architects are control. You cannot comprehend the perfection they bring."

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  I pressed the attack, activating Vorpal Blade. Both swords glowed pitch black, their power surging through me as I closed the distance. He blocked my first strike with his forearm, but the force sent cracks splintering through his avatar. His health bar ticked down to 20%.

  "This ends now," I growled, triggering Vorpal Severance.

  The ability activated in a flash. My swords moved in a blinding X-pattern, cutting through Blackfist with precise, overwhelming power. His avatar split into four equal parts, each dissolving into glitching fragments. But even in death, the glitches persisted.

  As the fragments faded, his distorted voice echoed one last time. "The Architects will rise. This... is only the beginning. Reset. Reboot. Calibrate."

  And then, he was gone.

  I stood in the silent aftermath, my heart pounding. This wasn’t just a grudge match. Blackfist was a warning—a pawn in something far bigger than a game. The Architects weren’t just manipulating players. They were rewriting the rules of reality itself. Call it curiosity or a macabre sense of wanting to know. After the fight with Blackfist, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I opened my friend list and contacted Mira.

  “Hey, I beat Blackfist,” I started, “but I want you to do a real-world search. You knew Bokken before I arrived in Royale Online. Can you see if he’s still alive?”

  The message hung in silence before she responded.

  “He died six months ago…” she replied, her voice tinged with disbelief. “So who the hell did you fight?”

  Her response left me chilled. My mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. As I sat there, the ground beneath me rumbled and split open. A stairway, made of glowing white light and fractured glass-like shards, materialized out of nowhere. The air around it felt heavy, and despite the unease, I descended. The entrance sealed behind me with a thunderous crack, leaving me no choice but to continue.

  The staircase led to a vast chamber, dimly lit with a surreal greenish glow. As I ventured further, it became clear that the space wasn’t finished—it was like stepping into a developer’s sandbox. Textures flickered in and out as if the game’s engine struggled to load them, and objects popped in and out of existence.

  Among the flickering objects were strange, glowing Datashards. They hovered in mid-air, crackling with faint energy. I reached out, interacting with one, and it projected fragmented text into the air.

  Data Log: PROJECT ASCENSION

  Using a groundbreaking VR system to develop the Nexus Core to morph reality...

  arrgsfgsfgsdfsfsd8f554fds555sd4f5454s5df45f4sdf54d51f

  (Error: Data Missing—Corrupted Text)

  The first test subject was a prisoner. The interface and integration failed; his body seemed to melt. We needed a new avenue. Age of Eternity v0.2 seemed easy to integrate our code. Junko Sato was eager to help us develop the game world needed. Keep her under watch.

  The final line shifted into wingdings-like gibberish, unreadable to any normal player:

  ??????□▲▼▼????□□???????

  I stared at the text, feeling a cold pit form in my stomach. Sato? She's involved in this?

  Before I could process the implications, the chamber trembled. My HUD flickered as a teleportation sequence began. A moment later, I was back in the Coiled City tavern.

  Sitting across from me was someone I’d never seen before. Her avatar was simple, almost generic, yet something in her gaze caught my attention.

  “I can’t help too much,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with exhaustion. “Even this avatar would be monitored.”

  I stared at her. “You’re Junko Sato,” I said. “I’m guessing you left that level for me?”

  “Did it help?” she asked blankly.

  “Not at all. It just leaves more questions.”

  Her eyes softened, and she seemed to deflate slightly. “I had no choice. They threatened me—and my family. You don’t know what it’s like working for them. We have a company police unit—the ISD, Internal Security Division. They monitor everything: our computers, phones, even our personal notes. Everything is scanned for leaks or deviations. If I didn’t comply… well, Sakaguchi is proof of what happens.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, and helping with his malware was an act of generosity, I’m sure.”

  She flinched at the accusation but didn’t deny it. “It wasn’t that simple. The ISD oversees every aspect of our lives. Even the Director warned me—directly—never to help players. It’s against company policy and, apparently, against the rules of the Architects.”

  Her voice trembled slightly, but she pressed on. “The only freedom I have is at home. The privacy laws are so strict now that even they can’t monitor me there. It’s the only place I’m safe.”

  “So what do you want from me?” I asked, leaning forward. “Why stick your neck out now?”

  She hesitated before meeting my gaze. “I don’t want you to save the world,” she said quietly. “I want you to make sure it still exists.”

  I didn’t respond immediately, my mind racing with what she’d just said. Before I could question her further, she added, “I’ll dig into the old files. See what I can find about their plans. I’m just… a world builder to them. But if I can uncover anything, I’ll share it.”

  Without another word, her avatar blinked out of existence, leaving me alone in the tavern. Her last words echoed in my mind, heavy with implication:

  “Make sure the world still exists.” It still haunts me, these words. I knew something big was on the horizon and what was coming was dangerous. I sighed, why does every game I play turn into a nightmare?