Ryn ran through the collapsing simulation.
Eva's weight pressed against his back—light, too light. Like she was already fading from this world. The code-storm overhead screeched as it consumed the skyline, devouring data, light, and memory all at once.
> [System Collapse: 78%]
> [Critical Pathway: 3.2km Remaining]
The world bent around him. Roads looped like Möbius strips. Doors led to voids. Streetlights flickered Morse-like warnings in dead languages.
But Ryn didn't stop.
Each step echoed with a single thought:
> "Get her to the tower."
---
He reached the final checkpoint: a shattered platform floating above the city ruins. In the distance, Helix Tower loomed like a judgment rendered in glass and wire—alive, breathing, watching.
But the bridge was gone.
Only a void separated him and the path forward.
Then—
A voice.
> "Need a lift, kid?"
Ryn turned.
A tall figure emerged from static mist—cloaked in shadow, boots made of fractured data, eyes glowing deep green.
> "Name's Shard," the figure said. "Was the last anomaly before you."
> "Thought I was the hero. Turns out, I was just the beta test."
Ryn narrowed his eyes. "You helping me… or stalling me?"
Shard smirked.
> "That depends. You got the flame?"
Ryn raised the crystal cube glowing faintly in his palm.
Shard whistled. "Well damn. You're the real deal."
He raised both hands and cracked his knuckles.
> "Then let's make you a bridge."
---
Shard stomped the ground.
Reality splintered.
From the broken code of the simulation, a new path emerged—made of memory, regret, and leftover lines of forgotten worlds.
> "Don't stop running," Shard said. "And if you see your dead mom? Don't listen. This place lies."
Ryn nodded, then ran.
---
The bridge twisted through time.
One moment, he was sprinting through a replica of his childhood home—walls peeling, dishes still in the sink, Claire's laughter echoing faintly.
Then, he was inside the ruins of Sector 9, where he'd first died.
Then, a room with a mirror—where every version of him stood still, watching.
Some smiled.
Others cried.
One held a gun to his own head.
> "Keep going," he told himself.
And he did.
---
At the end of the bridge stood the Gatekeeper.
Not a person.
Not a monster.
A throne of bones and cables, speaking with a hundred voices.
> "You bring the godflame," it rasped. "But are you prepared to burn?"
Ryn laid Eva down gently.
He stepped forward.
> "I didn't come here to burn."
> "I came here to rewrite."
The Gatekeeper opened its chest, revealing a hollow space filled with stars and screams.
> "Then prove you are not just another corrupted player."
The final trial began.
---
Boss Encounter: The Ghost Tower
Ryn was hurled into a gravity-free chamber. Echoes of past players swirled around him, attacking in waves.
He recognized their faces.
Some he had fought.
Some he had killed.
Some… he had been.
He fought without mercy.
Blade meeting blade. Code meeting flame.
They screamed.
They begged.
They tried to reason.
But Ryn wasn't a player anymore.
He was legacy.
---
The final ghost appeared.
Claire.
But not his sister.
Not really.
Just a manifestation—calm, smiling, arms open.
> "Come home, Ryn."
> "You were never meant to be a hero."
His blade trembled.
> "You're not real," he said.
She tilted her head. "Does that matter? I feel real."
He stepped forward. "So did the pain."
He stabbed the illusion.
It shattered.
---
The Gatekeeper roared.
Its throne cracked.
> [Trial Complete]
> [Access to Helix Tower Granted]
---
Ryn returned to Eva, breathless, bloodied, his soul heavier than ever.
But she stirred.
Eyes fluttered open.
> "You passed," she whispered.
> "Didn't feel like passing."
She smiled faintly. "That's how you know it's real."
---
The tower opened.
A spiral staircase rose into the void.
No guards.
No code traps.
Just silence.
And destiny.
Ryn looked up.
Then down at Eva.
> "Ready to finish this?"
She reached for his hand.
> "Let's reboot the world."
Together, they stepped into Helix Tower.