Lena was a few steps ahead, moving with the deliberate ease of someone who had survived far worse. Her twin daggers rested in their sheaths, though her hands stayed close to the hilts.
“Is it always like this?” Erik asked, keeping his voice low.
“What, running for your life?” Lena smirked, though there was no humor in her expression. “You get used to it.”
Erik shook his head. “No, I mean… this world. It’s so broken. I’ve played Endworld Online for years, but it’s never felt like this. The glitches, the sentinels… It’s like the game’s falling apart.”
“It is,” Lena said simply.
Erik frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lena stopped, turning to face him. “This world wasn’t designed to handle anomalies like us. Every time a glitch occurs, it destabilizes the system. The more you use your abilities, the more strain you put on the code. And the devs… well, let’s just say they don’t have a backup plan for what happens if this place collapses.”
Erik’s stomach twisted. “So, what happens if it does collapse?”
Lena’s eyes were unreadable. “I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”
Their path led them out of the town and into the wilderness beyond. The transition was seamless—too seamless. Erik had spent countless hours exploring Endworld Online’s massive, open landscapes, but now, the world felt… different.
The forest they entered was shrouded in an unnatural fog, the trees towering and gnarled, their branches twisting into unsettling shapes. Occasionally, Erik noticed odd flickers in his peripheral vision—trees shifting positions, shadows moving against the light.
“This isn’t part of the map I know,” Erik said, glancing around.
“That’s because we’re not in the game anymore,” Lena said. “Not the way you remember it, anyway. You’re in the back-end now—the parts of the world most players never see.”
Erik raised an eyebrow. “The back-end? You’re saying this is…”
“Unrendered space,” Lena explained. “Everything you see is barely held together by the game’s code. The system only creates what it thinks it needs, and the rest… it lets decay.”
“Comforting,” Erik muttered, sidestepping a patch of ground that flickered with static.
As they pressed deeper into the forest, Erik noticed other strange anomalies. Floating fragments of terrain drifted aimlessly in the air. A deer with blank, glowing eyes stared at them from a ridge before vanishing into thin air.
“Stay close,” Lena said. “The deeper we go, the more unstable it gets.”
“And the Root System is in here somewhere?”
Lena nodded. “It’s the core of this world. Every piece of data in Endworld Online passes through it. If we’re going to find answers about the glitch—and about what happened to you—that’s where we need to go.”
Erik’s mind churned. The Root System. The source of the glitch that had killed him, changed him. The thought of confronting it both terrified and intrigued him.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
They were halfway through a narrow ravine when Lena stopped abruptly, holding up a hand. Erik froze, gripping his sword.
“What is it?” he whispered.
Lena pointed to the ground ahead. At first, Erik didn’t see it, but then he noticed the faint shimmer in the air, like heat rising off asphalt. A thin, glowing line of code snaked across the ground, pulsing faintly.
“It’s a trigger,” Lena said quietly.
“A trigger?”
“Proximity trap,” she explained. “The players who attacked us earlier? They must’ve set this to track our movements.”
Erik’s pulse quickened. “Can we disarm it?”
Lena nodded. “You can. If you’re quick enough.”
“Wait, me?”
“You’re the Codewalker,” Lena said, stepping back. “This is what you’re here for. The system won’t let me touch it, but you can rewrite it.”
Erik swallowed hard, stepping closer to the shimmering line. A terminal screen appeared in his vision:
[TRAP-4129: PROXIMITY ALERT]
[STATUS: ARMED]
[ACTIONS AVAILABLE: DISARM // MODIFY // DELETE]
He hesitated, sweat beading on his forehead. “What if I mess it up?”
“Then the hunters will be on us in seconds,” Lena said flatly.
“Great,” Erik muttered. “No pressure.”
He focused on the terminal, his fingers hovering over the options. He selected DISARM, and the code shifted, its lines rearranging. For a moment, it seemed to work—the glowing line dimmed, flickering out of existence.
But then the screen flashed red.
[ERROR: INSUFFICIENT PERMISSIONS.]
The trap reactivated, brighter than before. A piercing alarm shattered the silence, echoing through the ravine.
“RUN!” Lena shouted.
They bolted, the sound of the alarm chasing them through the twisting canyon. Erik’s heart pounded as his boots pounded the uneven ground.
Behind them, the first signs of pursuit appeared. Bright flashes of light erupted along the edges of the ravine—teleportation markers. Players were closing in.
“We’re not going to make it!” Erik yelled.
“Don’t stop moving!” Lena snapped.
A burst of magic exploded nearby, sending shards of rock flying. Erik stumbled but kept running, adrenaline driving him forward.
They reached the edge of the ravine, where the ground gave way to a jagged drop-off. Below them was a churning void of raw, unfinished code—a bottomless pit of glitching textures and broken data.
“We’re trapped,” Erik said, turning to face Lena.
She scanned the area, her eyes narrowing. “Not yet.”
She pointed to a narrow bridge of rock spanning the chasm. It was unstable, barely more than a jagged line, but it was their only option.
“Go!” she ordered, shoving Erik toward the bridge.
Erik hesitated for half a second before sprinting across. The rock shifted beneath his feet, cracks spiderwebbing outward with each step. Behind him, Lena followed, her movements swift and sure.
Halfway across, the first hunter appeared at the edge of the ravine—a tall woman in gleaming silver armor, her glowing sword raised.
“Anomaly detected,” she said, her voice cold.
She slashed downward, sending a shockwave of energy racing toward the bridge. The impact shattered the rock, and Erik felt the ground give way beneath him.
“No!” he shouted, flailing as he began to fall.
Lena’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist. She gritted her teeth, holding him steady as the bridge crumbled around them.
“Hold on!” she growled, her muscles straining.
Erik dangled over the void, his heart hammering. Below him, the unfinished code churned, threatening to consume him.
Above, the hunter approached, her sword glowing with power.
Lena’s eyes blazed with determination. “Erik. Use your abilities. Now.”
Erik’s mind raced. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he had to act. Reaching out with his free hand, he focused on the broken pieces of the bridge, willing them to reform.
A terminal appeared:
[BRIDGE-1024: OBJECT COLLAPSED.]
[ACTIONS AVAILABLE: REPAIR // MODIFY.]
He selected REPAIR, pouring every ounce of focus into the task. The broken rocks shimmered, pieces flying back into place. The bridge reassembled itself, just enough to hold their weight.
Lena hauled him up, and they scrambled to the other side.
“Nice save,” Lena said breathlessly, though her relief was short-lived.
The hunter stood at the edge of the ravine, her expression unreadable. She raised her sword, and the air around her shimmered with raw energy.
“She’s not going to let us go,” Erik said, gripping his sword.
“She doesn’t have to,” Lena said, grabbing his arm. “We’re almost at the Root System. Run!”
With no time to argue, Erik followed Lena as they disappeared into the foggy forest beyond. Behind them, the hunter’s cold voice echoed:
“You can’t escape the system.”