Chapter 14 – The Things That Watch
Night settled over the Adventurer Guild like a heavy blanket.
Alex sat alone on the edge of a narrow bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlocked so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. The room smelled faintly of dried herbs and old wood. Somewhere down the hall, Liora slept under the care of the healers—alive, breathing, but fragile in a way that made his chest ache whenever he thought too hard about it.
This was the first time since the ruins that he had been alone.
And the silence felt unbearable.
Alex lowered his gaze to his hands.
They were the same hands he had always known. No divine symbols burned into his skin. No glow. No mark of a God's favor. Compared to the blessed, he still looked exactly the same—ordinary, weak, forgettable.
And yet…
I didn't imagine it, he thought.
That warmth from before—faint but persistent—still lingered deep in his chest. Not comforting. Not hostile. Just… present. Like something coiled around his heart, watching quietly.
He swallowed.
"If you're real," he muttered softly, "then show me."
Nothing happened.
Alex exhaled through his nose, tension tightening his shoulders. "Figures."
He leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it really had been a hallucination. Near death did strange things to people. He'd seen adventurers lose their minds after rifts—heard voices, seen lights, believed in miracles that weren't there.
Just as he was about to give up, pressure bloomed suddenly in his chest.
Not pain.
Awareness.
Alex froze.
"…Status?" he said hesitantly.
The air in front of him shimmered.
Light snapped into existence.
Alex sucked in a sharp breath as translucent blue text unfolded before his eyes, hovering just inches from his face—sharp, structured, unmistakably real.
[Host: Alex Rim]
[Race: Human]
[Level: 1]
[EXP: 0 / 200]
His heart slammed violently.
The screen stabilized, lines forming with mechanical precision.
[Strength: 10]
[Agility: 10]
[Endurance: 10]
[Perception: 10]
[Charm: LOCKED]
[Abyssal Energy: 13 / 30]
[System Sync: 17 / 1000]
[Rank: F]
[Shop: LOCKED] [Quest] [Skill]
Alex stared.
"…This isn't normal," he whispered.
His breathing grew shallow as his eyes darted across the interface. Numbers. Bars. Words that felt too precise to be imagined. His fingers trembled as he raised a hand—and passed straight through the glowing screen.
"Okay," he murmured, forcing himself to breathe. "Don't disappear. Just—stay."
The interface flickered, reacting faintly to his focus.
He hesitated, then concentrated on the word that pulsed dimly.
Quest.
The screen shifted.
[Beginner Quest: Survive and Grow]
Objective: Increase personal combat capability
Condition: Face adversity independently
Progress: 0%
Reward: ???
Alex's chest tightened.
"That's it?" he asked quietly. "No instructions? No help?"
The quest remained unchanged.
Grow.
Survive.
Alone.
A chill crept down his spine. This wasn't guidance—it was a test.
Before he could try accessing anything else, the interface shuddered violently. Lines blurred. Symbols distorted.
"Wait—!" Alex reached out instinctively.
The screen collapsed.
Not fading.
Vanishing.
The room returned to silence, as though nothing had ever been there.
Alex sat frozen, heart pounding in his ears.
"I'm not crazy," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm not."
But deep inside him, something shifted—settling more firmly into place.
Morning broke with tension thick in the air.
Alex was helping a junior guild attendant organize supply crates when the atmosphere changed. Conversations around the hall faltered. Laughter died abruptly. Even seasoned adventurers straightened instinctively.
Footsteps echoed from the entrance.
Two groups entered side by side.
One wore the crisp armor of the Military Aristocracy, insignias polished to perfection. Their presence alone radiated authority, the kind built on discipline and violence.
The other group wore robes—muted in color, embroidered with symbols that made Alex's skin prickle just to look at. Their movements were unhurried. Their expressions calm.
Too calm.
The guild hall fell silent.
"This branch of the Adventurer Guild," a military officer announced, voice sharp and practiced, "is now under temporary investigation."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
The guild master stepped forward quickly, forcing composure. "May we ask the reason—"
His voice caught when one of the robed figures stepped ahead.
The temperature didn't change.
But the weight in the room did.
"I am here on behalf of the Church," the priest said softly. "We seek answers regarding a rift incident."
Whispers turned uneasy.
Church involvement was rare.
Direct involvement was almost unheard of.
Alex's instincts screamed.
Don't move.
The priest's gaze swept across the hall—not hurried, not searching in a normal way. It was as if he were listening to something beneath the surface of reality itself.
When his eyes passed over Alex, that pressure in Alex's chest tightened sharply.
For a heartbeat, Alex felt exposed.
Then—nothing.
The priest moved on.
Alex released a shaky breath.
The military officer spoke again. "We will examine the ruins, interview survivors, and review guild records."
The priest's calm voice followed. "Especially the living."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the infirmary wing.
Alex's blood ran cold.
He didn't know that something ancient watched quietly through his eyes.
Didn't know that forces far beyond the guild had begun to circle.
But somewhere deep within the ruins of the world—and within Alex himself—
something had already decided he was worth watching: