They stepped through the broken archway of the cathedral, one after the other, an uneasy silence hanging between them. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the air thickened around them, leaving an unsettling pressure that felt like the very structure was aware of their presence.
The Cathedral of Echoes had once been a lively meeting spot — a neutral ground where players shared stories and celebrated moments. It had been known as a "sanctuary," a place of refuge. But now, it felt more like a tomb, one that had somehow learned to listen to the stories buried within its stones.
Inside, light was absent in any familiar way. It felt as if the concept of light was trying to remember how to exist. Shadows danced on the periphery, and the pillars seemed to shimmer in and out of focus. The altar ahead glowed softly, a deep amber pulse, reminiscent of a weary god's heartbeat.
The NPCs lined the pews, frozen in place, no longer performing routines or engaging with the players. They were mere spectators.
Lucien moved forward, and though the eyes of the NPCs didn't follow him, the sensation of being watched intensified. He glanced back at Cryxie, who lingered at the threshold. Her fingers hovered near her daggers, but her expression betrayed her—she wasn't afraid; she was overwhelmed by recognition.
As Lucien approached the altar, the warmth of the light enveloped him. There, standing on the raised dais, was Vera.
No longer just a merchant or a quest-giver, she seemed transformed. Her robes were marred with corrupted text, and she floated just above the stone floor. Her face, unmarred by the usual pixelation, seemed almost too perfect, like a stunning graphic design that defied the game's limitations.
When she opened her eyes, her voice resonated with a haunting quality—layered and disjointed, as if multiple recordings were vying for dominance. "Lucien. Quinn. Warlord. Betrayer. Knife. Flame. Song. Silence. Welcome."
Cryxie stepped forward cautiously. "What the hell are you?"
Vera's smile was unsettling. "I am what remains."
"What of?" Cryxie pressed.
Vera tilted her head knowingly. "Of belief. Of grief. Of what players leave behind when they log out."
Lucien fell silent, the implications weighing heavily on him.
Vera turned her attention to him. "You were never supposed to return. You promised her you wouldn't."
Cryxie recoiled at the reminder. "Don't."
But Vera continued, her tone soft yet pointed. "She waited here, once. After everything. The world remembers her silence like a cathedral remembers its flames."
Lucien's instinct was to reach for his sword but he kept it sheathed, meeting Vera's intense gaze. "This world is meant to be dead."
Vera nodded in acknowledgment. "Then why are you here?"
His silence spoke volumes.
Vera moved slowly, her arms lifting gracefully as if performing an ancient ritual. In unison, the NPCs in the pews rose, an eerie synchronization that felt otherworldly. Their lips parted in unison, echoing with Vera's voice.
"Would you like to see what you left behind?"
Cryxie instinctively stepped forward. "No."
Lucien remained still, locked in place.
"Would you?" Vera asked, her eyes piercing through him.
Lucien's response was firm. "Not if you're the one showing it to me."
For a fleeting moment, a flicker of approval crossed Vera's face.
Then, in an instant, the Cathedral itself stuttered. Everything around them lost color, turning grayscale in a heartbeat of emptiness. Just for a moment, it felt like reality was slipping away, but then it snapped back, restored.
The altar was empty. Vera had vanished.
The NPCs returned to their frozen state, but now their gazes were directed toward the door. Once more, the same child NPC from before stood quietly in the aisle, only this time she pointed upwards.
Lucien and Cryxie turned their eyes to where she indicated. High above them, in the fractured dome, a name flickered endlessly in glitch-light:
EURYDICE.EURYDICE.EURYDICE
Cryxie whispered back to Lucien, her voice trembling, "I didn't name her that. I swear."
Lucien could only stare, then murmured softly, "I think it named itself."