NPCs around him continued their scripted routines, oblivious to the threat. A merchant offered apples to a flickering guard. A child chased a ball that phased in and out of reality.
None of them noticed the monstrosity bearing down on them. But Erik did.
"Move!" barked the hooded figure, shoving Erik out of the way as a lance of light shot from the construct. It exploded against the cobblestone where Erik had been standing moments earlier, leaving a charred, glitching crater.
"Are you insane?" Erik shouted, stumbling back. "What the hell is that thing?"
"Corruption sentinel," the figure said grimly. "A failsafe. It's here to wipe anomalies like you."
Erik's blood—or whatever coursed through this strange new body of his—ran cold. "Wipe? As in delete?"
"Exactly. And it will find you. You need to run, Codewalker!"
Erik didn’t need to be told twice. The sentinel unleashed another volley of light, obliterating an entire section of the market. The cobblestones and merchant stalls didn’t just explode—they disintegrated, breaking apart into pixels before vanishing entirely. Erik sprinted down the nearest alley, following the hooded figure.
Behind them, the sentinel roared, its tendrils tearing through buildings with unnerving precision. Walls crumbled into shimmering dust, entire sections of the town disappearing as though they’d never existed.
Erik's lungs burned, even though he wasn’t sure if he even had lungs anymore. Every step felt more real than anything he'd experienced in Endworld Online. The grit of the cobblestones underfoot, the sting of the heat on his back from the sentinel's attacks—it wasn’t just VR anymore. This world felt… alive.
"Where are we going?" Erik yelled over the chaos.
"Somewhere safe!" the figure replied, their voice sharp but controlled. "If there’s anything left of it!"
They rounded a corner into what appeared to be an abandoned guildhall. The double doors creaked open as the figure ushered Erik inside. Once through, they slammed the doors shut and placed their hand against them. A shimmering glyph appeared, locking the entrance with a digital hum.
Erik doubled over, catching his breath. "What the hell just happened back there?"
The figure pulled back their hood, revealing a pale woman with short, spiked hair made of shifting data strands. Her eyes glowed faintly green, binary digits flickering in her pupils.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, her voice calm but cold. “This world doesn’t tolerate anomalies.”
Erik straightened, still clutching the cheap sword he'd stolen off an NPC corpse. “I didn’t exactly choose to be here, okay? I was in the middle of a raid, minding my own business, and then bam—everything glitches out, and now I’m… whatever this is.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
Erik threw his hands up. “If I knew, do you think I’d be asking?”
Her gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained guarded. “You’re a Codewalker,” she said. “Something that shouldn’t exist. When the system detects you, it sends sentinels to purge you before you destabilize the world.”
“Codewalker? What does that even mean?”
She hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell him. Finally, she sighed. “Players like you… sometimes when they die in-game, their consciousness doesn’t return to their body in the real world. It gets… stuck. Most of the time, the system deletes the leftover data. But sometimes…” She gestured at him. “This happens.”
Erik stared at her, struggling to process what she was saying. His hands trembled. “You’re saying I’m dead?”
“Not quite,” she said. “But you’re not alive either. You’re… somewhere in between.”
Erik staggered back, his mind racing. His body—his real body—was still back in the real world. Was he in a coma? Or had he actually died? The thought made him feel like the floor was collapsing beneath him.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “I need to wake up. There has to be a way to log out.”
“There isn’t,” the woman said bluntly. “Once you’ve been absorbed into the system like this, you’re a part of it now.”
Erik’s mind reeled, his fists clenching. He refused to believe it. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out.
“And what about you?” he asked sharply. “You seem to know an awful lot about this for someone who’s supposed to be part of the game.”
“I was like you once,” she said quietly. “A long time ago. But that’s not important right now.” She stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. “What is important is that you learn how to use your abilities before that sentinel finds you again.”
“What abilities?” Erik snapped. “I don’t know how to do anything in this body!”
“You will,” she said. “The system classified you as a Codewalker. That means you have access to admin-level privileges. You can manipulate the game’s code from within. Change things. Rewrite them.”
Erik frowned. “I don’t know anything about coding.”
“You don’t need to,” she said. “The system will guide you, but only if you push it. You already used a trace command back in the square. That wasn’t just luck—it’s instinct.”
Erik remembered the strange terminal screen, the way the code had felt alive under his touch. It was like the knowledge had been placed in his mind without his permission. He didn’t understand it, but it felt… natural.
“How do I start?” he asked.
The woman smirked faintly. “Now you’re asking the right questions.” She gestured toward a broken table in the corner of the room. “Try fixing that.”
Erik hesitated, then approached the table. Its legs were splintered, the surface warped and riddled with holes. He reached out instinctively, and a translucent terminal screen appeared before him:
[OBJECT: TABLE-1423]
[STATUS: BROKEN]
[ACTIONS AVAILABLE: REPAIR // DELETE // MODIFY]
He stared at the options, his pulse quickening. He didn’t fully understand what he was doing, but something in his gut told him to try. He selected REPAIR, and the world seemed to ripple around him. The table shimmered, its broken pieces floating into the air before snapping back into place. Within seconds, it was whole again.
Erik stepped back, his heart pounding. “Did I just…”
The woman nodded, her expression unreadable. “That’s just the beginning. With time, you’ll learn to do far more than that. But the more you manipulate the code, the more attention you’ll attract.”
“From what? The sentinels?”
She shook her head. “From the developers.”
Erik’s stomach sank. “The devs? They’re watching this?”
“They built this world,” she said. “They’re the gods here. And if they find out what you are, they won’t stop until you’re erased completely.”
Erik took a shaky breath, his mind spinning. He was trapped in a game, hunted by the system, and now he had to hide from the very people who created it.
“What’s your name?” he asked finally, turning back to the woman.
She hesitated, then said, “Lena.”
“Lena,” Erik said, testing the name. “What happens now?”
She glanced toward the locked doors, her expression hardening. “Now? We survive. And you figure out how to fight back before this world swallows you whole.”