She truly didn't understand why they had begun to fight without a single word exchanged. One moment she had descended, still trying to grasp the lay of the land, and the next, her opponent had already drawn his weapon.
Alistair was just as baffled.
Why fight? Wasn't it obvious? They were in a boss arena, after all. When you step through the mist, you draw steel. That's how it always worked.
Or so he thought.
Then it hit him.
This wasn't a game. It wasn't even a simulation.
This was real.
The limb-grafted horror had come at him, sword raised. If it had landed a blow, he wouldn't have respawned at the last bonfire. He'd be dead. And the girl before him? She hadn't attacked him. She had slain the beast in his stead.
Logically, they were not enemies.
His gaze flicked between her and the scarred terrain, the trailing ember of that golden meteor still burning in the sky.
From the moment he had seen the grafted creature, he had assumed he was entering the prologue. A standard Soulsborne beginning. But now, looking at the girl's restraint, recalling the staged arrival, and taking in the world's ambient stillness, he realized he may not have entered the game proper at all.
This was the prelude.
He slid the burning greatsword back into the void, the flames vanishing with a hiss.
His eyes lingered on the girl.
Could she be... his Fire Keeper?
They sat together shortly after, weapons sheathed, the heat of their near-clash cooling into silence.
Alistair found himself at a loss for words. He hadn't spoken to anyone in ages. In the simulation, it was nothing but bloodshed. Dialogue had become foreign. The only conversation he'd known was that final farewell.
And the girl across from him? Not a talkative type.
They stared at one another, an awkward stillness hanging between them like mist.
"My name is Alistair," he finally said. His voice cracked slightly from disuse. "I've lost my memory. Don't know where I am, or why. I remember my name, and I remember how to fight. What about you?"
"I don't know either," she replied without emotion. "I came here to investigate an anomaly. Nothing else concerns me."
"Anomaly?"
"There's something wrong with this land," she said. "Something's changed. I left a conduit here. It broke. I couldn't see or track this place anymore. So I came myself."
She was as in the dark as he was.
He considered that. "Then how about we travel together?"
Even if she wasn't his Fire Keeper, her strength made her a worthy ally. And if this was the kind of enemy he encountered at the start, then this world's power scale could be well beyond what he anticipated.
He had thought level 802, with his inventory brimming with relics and maxed gear, would make him a demigod here.
But now?
Now he wasn't so sure.
And she had the same thought.
She had descended in a vessel forged strong enough to traverse nearly any domain. And yet, at her very arrival, a monstrosity unlike any she expected tried to crush her.
"Agreed," she said after a pause. "Assist me in identifying and resolving the source of the anomaly, and I will offer you suitable compensation."
She lifted her left hand and snapped her fingers.
A familiar chime echoed in Alistair's mind.
[Elden Ring System Activated]
"...What did you just do?"
"The laws in your body don't align with this world," she said casually. "I adjusted them."
Adjusted? That was more than a little.
Alistair examined the new system. Visually, it mirrored his old Dark Souls system. Inventory layout, item sorting, the interface... nearly identical. Only the attributes had changed slightly.
Nine attributes reduced to eight. And no longer were souls the currency of power, but Runes.
[Name: Alistair]
[Origin: Wretch]
[Attributes: Vigor 10, Mind 10, Endurance 10, Strength 10, Dexterity 10, Intelligence 10, Faith 10, Arcane 10]
He stared at the panel.
This was Dark Souls, just rebranded. Luck became Arcane, Endurance now combined health and stamina. But he knew this starting build.
Wretch. Rock bottom.
"So, if I collect Runes, you can help me level up?"
The girl frowned. "Level up?"
"Use Runes to make me stronger."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "That's not my role."
Not a Fire Keeper, then.
He had suspected as much. If a Fire Keeper possessed her strength, there would be no need for Ashen Ones. Still, hearing it confirmed brought a sigh from his lips.
Which led him to a pressing question.
If she wasn't his Fire Keeper... then where was his?
His thoughts raced. The body.
He darted back into the chamber and knelt before the corpse in the corner.
Now that his system had changed, a prompt flickered above the remains.
[Though guidance is shattered, become Elden Lord.]
He didn't understand the words. Didn't know what the Elden Lord was.
But as his fingers traced the faded runes, he felt the echo of sorrow buried in the lines.
His Fire Keeper... gone at the very beginning?
A chill ran through him.
Was it his fault? Had he lingered too long in the simulation?
No. Perhaps... there was still time.
He reached out to the body. Beneath cold skin, he felt a faint soul pulsing. Weak, but present.
There was still something left.
Alistair didn't know any resurrection incantations. And even if he did, there wasn't enough left of her body or soul to work with.
But he could preserve what remained.
Sparks formed at his fingertips. Not wild fire, but something gentler. A low, ember-like warmth.
He pressed them into her. They sank in, cradling the fractured spirit.
"...Alistair?"
The voice was faint. Fading.
"It's me."
Her soul yielded to the light, drawing into his palm.
[Ashes Received: Incomplete Finger Maiden]
The ashes shimmered, then vanished, replaced by a key item in his inventory.
There was still hope.
He stood, turning to the girl who had silently watched him throughout.
"Questions?"
"Yes," she replied. "What now?"
"Aren't we investigating an anomaly?"
"Yes. But I don't know what the anomaly is."
Silence settled again.
He looked at her. She looked at him.
Finally, he glanced down at the last remnants of the message near the corpse and sighed.
"Let's get out of here first."
But that was easier said than done.
The entire area was perched atop a jagged mountain. Cliffs circled it like the jaws of a trap. Every path led to a sheer drop into blackness.
The girl behind him shook her head.
For all the strange creatures she had encountered across aeons, she had never seen one whose very essence warped the world around them—locking themselves within their own prison.
She could tell it was a constraint, some tradeoff, perhaps a metaphysical cost for overwhelming power. But this method...
She had never seen its like.
What made it worse was what came next.
Alistair, having found no escape, approached a statue of a goddess. Behind it, a cliff jutted outward.
The shape sparked a memory.
The Ringed City. A place from long ago. A corpse draped over a ledge, a glowing item luring the greedy. Step forward, and the ledge collapses.
He smiled grimly.
And took the step.
The ground gave way.
The girl walked up to the cliff's edge and stared after him, golden hair brushing her cheek in the wind.
She sighed.
***
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