He glanced at Lena, who stood poised and ready, her twin daggers glinting in the dim light. Her expression was calm, focused, as though she’d done this a thousand times before.
“How many are out there?” Erik asked, his voice tight.
“Two, maybe three,” Lena said without looking at him. “They’re scouts. The devs send players like them to sniff out anomalies before calling in the big guns.”
“Scouts,” Erik muttered. “Great. So, what’s the plan?”
Lena smirked. “Don’t die.”
“Fantastic plan,” Erik grumbled.
With a deafening crash, the doors burst open, and three figures stepped through the splintered frame. They didn’t look like ordinary players. Their armor gleamed with a metallic sheen, and their movements were precise, almost mechanical. They weren’t just here to loot or complete a quest—they were here to kill.
The lead player, a hulking man clad in heavy, obsidian-colored armor, scanned the room. His helmet’s visor glowed red, marking him as part of a high-level PvP guild. Behind him stood a lithe woman with a glowing bow, and a robed figure whose staff crackled with electric energy.
“Anomaly detected,” the armored man growled. His voice was distorted, metallic, like it was filtered through a modulator. “Execute on sight.”
Erik tightened his grip on his sword. “Any chance we can talk this out?”
The armored man raised his weapon—a massive warhammer—and pointed it at Erik. “You’re not supposed to exist.”
“Guess that’s a no,” Erik muttered.
Before he could think, the man charged, his warhammer trailing sparks as it came crashing down. Erik barely sidestepped in time, the weapon slamming into the floor and leaving a crater where he’d been standing.
“Focus!” Lena shouted, darting toward the archer. Her movements were impossibly fast, a blur of motion as her daggers flashed. The archer barely had time to react before Lena was on her, driving one blade into her bowstring and the other into her chest. The archer’s health bar appeared briefly, dropping by half.
“Not bad,” Erik muttered before the warhammer swung for him again.
This time, Erik brought up his sword, catching the hammer’s head with a loud clang. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through his arms, nearly knocking him off balance.
I’m gonna die, he thought. Again.
[WARNING: USER HEALTH CRITICAL.]
The system alert flashed in his vision, accompanied by a faint buzzing noise. Erik’s health bar appeared in the corner of his HUD, glowing red. One more hit like that, and he was done.
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“Erik!” Lena called. “Stop fighting like a noob! Use your abilities!”
“My what?!” Erik shouted, dodging another swing.
“Your admin access!” Lena yelled, throwing one of her daggers at the robed player. “Think, don’t just swing that stick around!”
Erik ducked under another attack, his heart pounding. Think. Use my abilities. Right. How?
The warhammer came crashing down again, but this time, Erik focused. He reached out instinctively, and to his surprise, a translucent screen appeared in front of him:
[OBJECT: WEAPON-WARHAMMER_347]
[STATUS: EQUIPPED BY PLAYER-11490]
[ACTIONS AVAILABLE: MODIFY // DISABLE // DELETE]
Erik’s eyes widened. He barely had time to think before he selected DISABLE.
The warhammer flickered, its texture glitching. The armored man staggered, staring at his weapon in confusion as it crumbled into pixels.
“What the—?!” the man roared.
Erik didn’t wait for him to recover. He lunged forward, driving his sword into the man’s chest. The strike connected, and the man’s health bar appeared, dropping by a third.
“Not bad,” Lena called, sidestepping a bolt of magic from the robed player. “You’re getting the hang of it!”
“Yeah, sure,” Erik panted, “if not dying counts as progress!”
The armored man roared in fury, summoning a glowing blade from his inventory. “You think you can glitch your way out of this, anomaly?”
Erik braced himself, but before the man could attack, Lena darted in, her daggers flashing. She slashed at his exposed joints, her strikes precise and devastating. His health bar dropped rapidly until it hit zero. The man froze, his body dissolving into pixels.
“That’s one down,” Lena said, spinning to face the other two.
The archer nocked another glowing arrow, but before she could fire, Erik reached out with his mind. Another screen appeared:
[OBJECT: WEAPON-BOW_821]
[STATUS: EQUIPPED BY PLAYER-87634]
[ACTIONS AVAILABLE: MODIFY // DISABLE // DELETE]
He selected DELETE, and the bow disappeared from the archer’s hands. Her eyes widened in shock as she stumbled back, unarmed.
Lena didn’t hesitate. She lunged at the archer, her daggers flashing. In seconds, the archer was gone, her body dissolving like the first.
Erik turned to the last player—the robed figure. The mage hesitated, his staff crackling with unstable energy. “This isn’t over,” the mage hissed, his voice trembling. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he vanished in a burst of light.
Erik collapsed to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground. “What the hell was that?”
“That,” Lena said, wiping blood—or data—from her daggers, “was your first fight. And you didn’t completely suck.”
“Gee, thanks,” Erik muttered, his hands still shaking. “I almost died.”
Lena smirked. “Welcome to the club.”
As Erik caught his breath, Lena knelt beside one of the glowing data shards left behind by the defeated players. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she examined it.
“What’s that?” Erik asked.
“A player tag,” Lena said. “Every time a player dies, they leave behind one of these. It’s like a signature.” She held it up to Erik, the glowing shard pulsing faintly. “This one’s different.”
“Different how?”
Lena frowned. “It’s encrypted. Most player tags are straightforward—they show you who the player was and their guild. But this…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing.
“What?” Erik pressed.
“It’s a tracking beacon,” Lena said, her voice grim. “They weren’t just here to kill us. They were marking us for the devs.”
Erik felt a chill run through him. “You mean they know where we are?”
Lena crushed the shard in her hand, the light snuffing out. “Not anymore. But we need to move. Now.”
Erik stood shakily, gripping his sword. “Where are we going?”
Lena glanced toward the shattered doorway, her expression unreadable. “To the Root System. If we’re going to survive this, we need to figure out what the devs are really planning.”
Erik nodded, though his stomach churned at the thought of what might be waiting for them. The Root System. The source of the glitch.
And, maybe, the only way out.