[SYS_LOG: 07:00 AM]
>SOUL_MERGE: Success. Compatibility 100%.
>SYNC_RATE: 100% (Body/Mind/Soul).
>MEMORY_DUMP: Completed.
>TALENT_MODIFICATION: [Heavy Armoury] → UPGRADED → [King of Heavy Armoury].
> SUB_ROUTINES (Relational Talents): [Grandmaster's Grip] ... Acquired: [Steel Aura] → UPGRADED →「No Will to Break」... Acquired.
> TRAIT_UPDATE: [Chivalry] → Modified to [King's Code].
> NEW_ENTRY: [???] ... Detected.
Status: Dormant.
>Requirements for bloom not met.
> CLASS_UPDATE: Subject: Galahad Wescott
[Previous]: Guardian (Epic) → [Current]: [Dark Knight (Epic+)]
Note: Stat growth modified. Str/Agl/Dex bias increased.
> ANOMALY_DETECTED: Source: [Talent: ???>] Effect: Forced Class Generation.
> SYSTEM_NOTIFICATION: Dual Class Acquired.
> SECONDARY_CLASS_DETAILS: Name: [REDACTED]
[State]: Dormant (Inactive)
[Unlock Conditions]: Not available.
> FATE_UPDATE: [New Roots Established. ]
> WORLD_CONNECTION: ESTABLISHED
Setting: [The Fallen Reverie]
> SYSTEM_MESSAGE:
"Rise, Galahad."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Haaaaah…" He gasped, eyes snapping open as he shot up in bed.
A quick look around confirmed he was in his room. It was Saturday, so everyone else was probably sleeping in.
He rubbed his head. The last thing he remembered? Getting smacked by a flying object during training.
'I got distracted by the System, didn't I?' He recalled the sudden voice in his head and the massive headache that came with it.
He was used to headaches, but that one was on another level.
'So I'm basically a meat shield?' He asked himself the question, but he didn't feel the anxiety he expected.
He was surprisingly okay with it.
'It must be one of the Traits in his… in my possession.' It was disorienting. It was a lot to process.
One version of yesterday, these fingers were typing on a keyboard, stressing over a new project.
In similar fashion just yesterday, he was sweating in the training grounds, wielding a heavy shield.
'I feel like I was sleepwalking through both lives...' It was a strange sensation, like standing with a foot in two different realities, only to be yanked awake into this one.
'My name is Galahad Wescott. I can't remember my last name from the real world, but I know one thing for sure: I was a hardcore gamer.' No other memories beside the game.
In the same game, Galahad was the Tank. The guy was absolute meta for three whole years before the power creep finally caught up to him.
Considering most characters get trash-binned after six months, Galahad had a legendary run.
'Well, at least they didn't kill him off right at the start.' But thinking about the ending gave him mixed feelings.
Memories of Galahad's fate surfaced, feelings that were ugly, unpleasant... just straight-up disgusting.
He remembered the patch notes.
Patch 4.2. One line of text that erased ten years of lore: 'Galahad's relationship status updated to: Older Brother.'
And then that scene… as she walked past Galahad who was still on his knees to the Protagonist, acting like the years of shared trauma on the battlefield never happened.
"Haaah..." He exhaled deeply, trying to purge the sensation.
'So a side character isn't even allowed to keep the love of his life?' He asked himself the question, though he already knew the answer.
He remembered the garbage the forums used to spew.
[@User123: She's way too good for a tank like him.]
[[@User69: Galahad doesn't deserve her.]
It was such a stupid reason. So ridiculous.
'Talk about fragile egos.' He shook his head. It was just Insecurity masked as critique.
'I can't believe the devs actually changed his story just to appease them.' They butchered his character, they killed it.
It was a narrative betrayal. A lifetime of devotion, years of written romance, and then suddenly the writers decide it's just a "Actually, they have a sibling dynamic."
Why?
All because players didn't want a random NPC taking a waifu off the market.
Because players can't handle a fictional woman dating anyone but the MC.
They simply didn't want a side character "hoarding" a potential love interest.
'The world doesn't revolve around you…' He sighed. 'Well, in a game, maybe it does. You just have to scream loud enough at the developers. They'll fold every time. They always cave to the loud minority because the casual players are too quiet to stop it.'
It was already too late before anyone realized how bad the changes were.
His fist clenched tight.
'I…'
Knock Knock
The sound of knuckles on wood broke the silence.
Suddenly, the door opened.
"Priscilla..." he murmured as she stepped inside.
She looked a little less energetic than usual.
"Gala... you okay?" she asked softly.
She looked exactly like her official art—actually, no, she was even cuter in person. That purple hair? It framed her face perfectly.
And unlike the 2D version, he could see the emotions behind the mask.
Her face was as stoic as a statue, but her eyes were screaming with worry.
"Yeah," Galahad managed, shaking his head to wake up. "Just a weird dream. Felt like I lived a whole other life while I was out cold."
Priscilla tilted her head just a tiny bit. For anyone else, it was nothing; for her, that was basically a shrug of confusion.
"A life? Was it a good one?"
"Not really. The ending was terrible," Galahad grunted, thinking about the forums and the patch notes.
Priscilla walked over to the bedside table and set down a glass of water she'd been holding.
"Then I'm glad you woke up."
Looking at her up close, he saw the difference.
Seeing her this close, the difference was obvious.
In the game, she was a fabrication of pixels and scripted lines, defined by the tragedy of a plot rewritten to appease a mob.
But here? The sunlight hit her violet eyes, showing a depth that 4K graphics could never touch.
The devs insisted they were "just siblings."
But looking at the intense way she was staring at him, Galahad had a feeling she'd burn the whole world down for him.
She moved closer, her steps making no sound on the floorboards.
"The instructor went too far. I've already filed a complaint regarding safety standards in heavy shield training." She touched his face gently, her cool fingers brushing his cheek.
"You filed a complaint against the Head Instructor?" Galahad asked, a bewildered laugh escaping him. "Are you serious?"
"He damaged my partner," Priscilla replied, her tone even, as if stating a universal fact like gravity.
"It was an error in judgment. I corrected him."
She sat down on the chair, knees pressed together politely. She stared at him for a long moment, searching for something.
"You scared me," she whispered.
It was so quiet, Galahad almost didn't catch it.
"Pris?"
"Do not do that again," she said, her voice going back to her usual robot-mode, though she looked away.
"If you die, I will be very inconvenienced. Finding a Tank who can keep up with my casting speed is basically impossible."
Galahad chuckled. That was Priscilla alright.
"Hahaha, yeah. I'll try to stay alive. Just for you." He laughed a little, but the sound tapered off into a deep breath. His expression darkened with thought.
Priscilla observed him closely, detecting the subtle turbulence beneath his calm.
"Thank you…" Galahad murmured. Her hand was on his head, her fingers rubbing through his hair, petting him slowly and carefully.
It felt nice.
"I have decided…" he muttered, speaking as much to himself as to her. She paused, waiting.
"I… I'm going to pick up the Great Sword."
"I see." She looked like she wanted to ask for his reasoning, shield users didn't just switch to heavy blades on a whim but she remained silent, sensing his resolve.
Galahad squeezed her hand.
"Had a bit of an epiphany, I guess," he said. He reached up, guiding her hand from his head into his own grasp.
Her eyes dropped to their hands, staring intently as their fingers intertwined.
"Oh." She nodded blankly, her system buffering. Her eyes were glued to their hands, completely zoning out.