Jax did not slow down until the forest swallowed every trace of the battlefield behind him.
He moved with purpose rather than panic, weaving through dense undergrowth and uneven ground while keeping his breathing controlled. Branches tugged at his armour as he passed, leaves brushing against his skin, but he did not stop to clear them. Distance mattered more than comfort. Every step carried him farther from the bodies, the blood, and the noise that would draw others to the site.
When he finally crouched beneath a slanted tree with thick roots breaking up the ground, he allowed himself a moment to listen.
The forest had returned to its rhythm.
Wind stirred the canopy overhead. Insects buzzed in the underbrush. Somewhere far off, a bird cried out before falling silent again. There were no voices, no hurried footsteps, no signs of pursuit. If anyone was coming, they had not reached this part of the woods yet.
Jax loosened his grip slightly, realising only then how tightly he had been holding the Glitched Shiv. The weapon rested comfortably in his hand, its balance far better than it had any right to be. A faint vibration pulsed along the hilt, subtle enough that he might have dismissed it if he were not already on edge.
It felt responsive.
That alone unsettled him.
He lowered himself into a seated position, back pressed against the tree trunk, and took a slow breath. His heartbeat gradually steadied, though the tension did not fully leave his body. The fight had ended, but the danger had not. This world had already made that much clear.
A faint pressure built behind his eyes.
The sensation was familiar now, like a system prompt struggling to surface through interference. His vision blurred slightly as translucent blue light bled into the edges of his sight.
The interface appeared, but it did not snap into place cleanly.
Lines wavered. Text stuttered.
[Warning.]
[Anomaly Status: Active.]
Jax stared at the message, his expression tightening.
"So, it noticed," he said quietly.
He dismissed the panel, expecting the text to vanish as it always had before. Instead, the words lingered, dim but persistent, as if burned into the air itself. No amount of focus made them disappear completely.
That was new.
He closed his eyes for a moment and centred himself, reaching inward the same way he had when he first responded to the glitch prompt. The sensation was difficult to describe, but it felt like touching the edge of a hidden interface rather than issuing a command. Something responded in return, a subtle shift deep in his awareness.
The panel stabilised, reforming.
[System Monitoring Increased.]
[Divine Observation Probability: Elevated.]
The word divine sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the forest air.
"Not subtle," Jax muttered.
He opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings again. Nothing had changed visually, yet the atmosphere felt heavier than before. It was not the feeling of being watched constantly. It was worse than that. The sense came and went, like attention brushing past him before moving on, as though something vast were sampling reality in intervals rather than observing it in full.
That kind of attention did not belong to players.
Jax adjusted his position, shifting deeper into shadow as distant movement stirred somewhere to the east. Voices carried faintly on the wind, distorted by distance and terrain. He could not make out words, but the cadence was unmistakable.
Players.
He did not wait to confirm numbers.
Stealth activated with practiced ease, his presence fading as the system bent light and awareness around him. The forest accepted the change, shadows deepening as his outline blurred against bark and foliage.
The system response lagged.
A fraction of a second passed before the familiar confirmation appeared, and even then the interface flickered slightly before stabilizing. Jax frowned as he tested a step forward, then another. His movement remained silent, but the delay persisted like an afterimage.
"Interference," he whispered.
The thought did not reassure him.
He withdrew farther into the forest, choosing his route carefully. He avoided open ground, navigated around clusters of trees that might funnel movement, and adjusted his pace to maintain concealment without pushing his stamina. Every decision was deliberate. Years of debugging under pressure had taught him the value of restraint.
The pressure behind his eyes returned without warning.
Pain followed.
Jax sucked in a sharp breath and dropped to one knee, bracing himself with one hand against the earth. The sensation was localised this time, a concentrated flare along his ribs that left him momentarily disoriented.
There had been no attack.
His interface surfaced again, text flickering rapidly before locking into place.
[Glitch Feedback Detected.]
[Stability: 92%]
"So that's the cost," he said under his breath.
He pressed his fingers against his side, feeling warmth seep through the Armor. The wound was shallow, more of a tear than a strike, but it had appeared without any external cause. That alone told him more than he wanted to know.
The glitch system was not just altering rules.
It was pushing back against something.
Jax forced himself upright, breathing slowly as the pain dulled. The wound stopped bleeding within moments, though the ache lingered like a warning. He knew better than to ignore signals like that. Systems did not throw errors without reason.
Whatever he had triggered had consequences, and those consequences extended beyond health bars and cooldowns.
He glanced up through the canopy, following the way light filtered between leaves and branches. The sky was visible in fragments, broken by green and shadow, offering no answers. Somewhere beyond it, something had noticed the anomaly he represented.
He did not know how long he had before that attention sharpened into action.
What he did know was that stopping now would not make him safer.
If anything, it would make him predictable.
Jax shifted his grip on the shiv, testing its balance once more before securing it at his side. The vibration faded, settling into a steady hum that matched his pulse. He rose to his feet and resumed moving, this time with greater care, mapping the forest as he went.
Every step taught him something.
The system still responded to him, but not with the same authority it showed others. Prompts arrived late. Notifications flickered before stabilizing. It was as if the interface itself hesitated, uncertain how to process his presence.
That uncertainty was leverage.
Jax did not smile, but something firm settled in his chest.
If the system was watching, then he would give it something worth watching.
Not recklessness.
Not chaos.
Control.
He disappeared deeper into the forest, leaving no trail behind him.