A group of people wake up in a video game world and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

Artemis wakes up to something new and struggles with a new challenge.

Super long double chapter!
Next one coming soon!

Chapter 13-14

Darkness surrounds me, cold and heavy, but it doesn’t last. Slowly, shapes begin to form in the void, a faint, familiar glow, the soft hum of a machine. My heart quickens as I realize what I’m seeing.

I’m back in my room, sitting at my desk. The monitor glows faintly in front of me, reflecting my face slightly as I stare at the loading screen. My hands hover over the mouse and keyboard, trembling slightly as the words “Press Start” pulse gently in the center.

The scene before me feels vivid, too vivid, like I’m reliving it rather than just dreaming. My heart races as I click the glowing button, and the screen changes, filling with swirling lights and shapes. “Welcome to Eidolon Nexus,” a smooth, artificial voice announces. “Enter a world of limitless freedom. But beware—freedom has consequences.” I remember this moment. The excitement. The curiosity. But now, looking at it from here, I feel only dread.

I watch as I type in the username and password I’d been sent. Then the text appeared on the screen. “Confirm special test participation?”

The voice from before returned. “Would you like to fully immerse yourself in this world?” The voice said almost rhythmically.

At the time, it seemed like just another gimmick, a clever marketing ploy. I clicked yes without hesitation. Now, as I relive it, I feel a chill run through me. Did I really choose this? All along it’s seemed so random was this ‘choice’ given to everyone? The screen flashes brightly, and the glow from the monitor fills the room, blinding me.

“No.” I whisper in the dream, trying to reach for the screen, trying to undo the choice. But my hands are frozen, my body unresponsive, just like in the chamber.

The light consumes everything, and I hear the voice again, distant but clear “You have been chosen.” The same words I heard when I first woke up in this world.

The light fades, and suddenly, I’m in a pitch-black void again. The silence is suffocating, heavy, and absolute. There’s no sound, no movement, just me, floating in the emptiness.

I glance down at myself, my heart tightening in my chest. It’s not my real body I see, at least, not the one I remember from the real world. It’s Artemis.

The blonde hair, the green outfit, the quiver attached to my back my hands, slender and unfamiliar, tremble as I raise them in front of me.

This... isn’t me, I whisper, my voice echoing faintly in the void.

But it is me. It’s who I’ve been since this nightmare began. The longer I stare, the harder it is to separate the two.

A faint shimmer of light appears ahead, breaking the darkness. It’s small at first, just a distant flicker, but it grows steadily brighter.

“What... what is this?” I ask, my voice shaking.

The light moves closer, swirling with strange, shifting colors that seem to pulse in time with my heartbeat. I take a step toward it, hesitant but drawn to it all the same.

The voice from the game intro echoes softly around me, distant but clear “You have been chosen.”

I freeze, my hands balling into fists. “Chosen for what?” I shout into the void, my voice shaking with frustration. “What does that even mean? Why me?”

The light pulses again, and the void seems to ripple as if reacting to my words. A faint, distorted reflection of myself, of Artemis appears in the swirling glow, staring back at me with an expression I can’t quite place.

I turn and sprint into the void, desperate to get away from the shimmering light and the words echoing in my mind.

Being chosen. Those words were the start of everything, the game, the traps, the terror I’ve faced since. I can’t stay here. I won’t.

But no matter how hard I push, no matter how fast I run, the void doesn’t end. The light follows, relentless, growing brighter with every step. My breath comes in ragged gasps as panic grips my chest. My legs strain, but suddenly, I realize something horrifying.

I’m not moving.

My arms pump, my feet pound, but the darkness around me remains the same. I’m running in place, frozen in this endless void. The light surges forward, engulfing me as I cry out, my arms lifting involuntarily, the energy pulling me up like I’m weightless.

The voice echoes once more, louder this time as if inside my skull. “You have been chosen.”

And then, everything disappears.

I jolt awake, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. The soft light of an inn filters into my vision, the familiar scent of wood and faint traces of smoke grounding me. I blink rapidly, trying to shake off the disorientation, when a familiar face leans over me.

“Artemis?” Kaida’s voice is soft but filled with worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out for hours.”

I glance around, my mind racing to process everything. “What... what happened?” I croak, my throat dry.

Kaida frowns, sitting back slightly. “We found you,” she says simply. “In some chamber. You were just... lying there, completely unresponsive. What happened in there?”

Her words hit me like a wave, the memories flooding back, the chamber, the shadow, the spreading numbness. My hand instinctively goes to my leg, and I feel a faint bandage wrapped tightly around it.

“The shadow,” I say, my voice raspy as I sit up slightly. “It got destroyed by the runes in the room. They... activated something and just obliterated it. But before that, it hit me.” I glance down at my bandaged leg. “I guess it... messed with me somehow. After that, everything went dark.”

Kaida nods, her frown deepening as she looks at the bandage on my leg. “That explains the... energy,” she says softly. “When we found you, there was this... glow around you. Faint, but it was there. It took both me and Lorien to carry you out of that chamber.”

“Carry me?” I echo, blinking.

Kaida nods again. “You were completely out. We didn’t know if it was some kind of magic or poison, but your leg was already turning purple. After we got out we levelled up again, and I used a new spell to stop it from spreading, but it was... close. Too close.”

I glance at her, the weight of her words sinking in. “You saved me,” I say quietly.

Her expression softens, and she offers a faint smile. “You saved me more than a few times already,” she says. “It was my turn to return the favor.”

I lean back against the pillow, my mind racing to piece everything together. “What about the others? Are they okay?”

Kaida nods reassuringly. “Everyone’s fine. We had to regroup after a wall split us up. Then Veyron found the passage that led us to you.”

I let out a small sigh of relief, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “Good. That’s... good.”

Kaida’s smile fades slightly, and her tone grows more serious. “But, Artemis... whatever happened to you down there, it wasn’t normal. That glow it felt... different. And now it feels like it’s still lingering.”

I glance down at my hands, a faint shiver running through me. “What do you mean?”

Kaida hesitates, her gaze uncertain. “I don’t know. But we need to be careful. Whatever the shadow was, I think it did leave something behind…”

The thought sends a chill down my spine. Part of it... is still in me? I glance at my leg again, then at my hands, as if I’ll see something lurking beneath the skin. My chest tightens as I force myself to take a deep breath, shoving the fear aside.

“Did you get the key?” I ask quickly, trying to focus on anything but the idea that the shadow left something behind.

Kaida’s expression softens slightly as she nods. “Yeah, we got it but...” She trails off, looking down at her hands.

I stare at her, the unease from before returning in full force. “We have no idea what it’s for,” I say flatly.

Kaida shrugs, her expression uncertain. “Not yet. But I think it’s tied to Lyra... and to whatever this game is trying to make us do.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with the implications. I glance down at my hands again, that lingering sense of unease refusing to leave me.

I glance back at Kaida, my chest tightening as the thought hits me. “The last key led to that heart,” I say softly, the memory of Lyra being taken flashing in my mind. “Where will this one take us?”

Kaida shifts uneasily, her hands gripping her staff tightly. “I don’t know” she admits, her voice low. “But if the last one was any indication, it’s not going to be easy.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Do you have any idea where we need to go?” I ask.

Kaida nods, reaching into her satchel and pulling out a glowing map. The symbols are faint but still visible, pulsing gently as if waiting for us to

She spreads the map out on the small table beside the bed, and I lean over to look. The path we followed before glows faintly, with the new key’s original location marked as a waypoint. Beyond but now another path is there leading deeper into the unknown.

“This... doesn’t look like it leads in to the city,” I murmur, tracing the glowing trail with my finger. “It goes further out into some mountains.”

Kaida frowns, her eyes scanning the map.
“Whatever it is,” she says quietly, lit feels like it’s leading us closer to the truth.”

I glance at her, my brow furrowed. “Or closer to another trap.”

She nods grimly, folding the map back up.
“Either way, we don’t really have a choice, do we?”

I let out a small sigh, “No,” I admit, my voice heavy.

I push myself up, wincing slightly as the ache in my leg flares up. “Okay, let’s go,” I say, trying to shake off the weakness.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Kaida moves quickly, placing her hands on my shoulders and easing me back down. “Listen, I healed you the best I could, but this was as far as I could go. You need to rest for a few days and let your body recover.”

I groan, flopping back against the pillows. “A few days? We don’t have a few days! Lyra is still out there, and who knows what’s happening to her!”

Kaida crosses her arms, her tone firm but gentle. “And if you go out there like this, you’re just going to get hurt again or worse, get us all killed.”

Her words hit me harder than I want to admit. I glance down at the bandage on my leg, the faint sting of the wound a reminder of how close I came to something much worse.

“But—“ I start, only for Kaida to cut me off. “No buts,” she says sharply. You’re the leader, Artemis. We need you, but we need you alive. Rest now so you can actually help later.” I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Fine,” I mutter, though every fiber of my being wants to argue. “But you’d better promise me you’ll keep everyone else safe while I’m stuck here.”

Kaida’s expression softens, and she nods. “I promise. We’ll figure out the next steps and wait for you to recover. Just... don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

I nod reluctantly, leaning back against the pillows. The fight isn’t over, but for now, I have no choice but to stay put.

I watch Kaida grab her staff and adjust her cloak, her expression determined. “You’ll be safe here in the inn.”

I frown, shifting slightly against the pillows. “Safe,” I echo, my tone tinged with frustration. “Maybe, but I feel useless just sitting here.”

Kaida offers a faint smile, leaning down slightly to meet my eyes. “You’re not useless, Artemis. You need time to heal. I promise we’ll handle things for now, okay? Don’t do what you usually do try and rush in.”

I sigh, glancing away. “Fine. Just don’t do anything reckless while I’m here Kaida.”

She smirks, straightening up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You’re talking to me about being reckless?” she teases. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure the guys don’t burn the city down while you’re stuck here.”

I let out a weak laugh despite myself, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

Kaida grins, heading for the door. “Get some rest Artemis. You’ll be better soon.”

She leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind her, and the quiet of the inn settles around me once more.

The quiet of the inn wraps around me like a heavy blanket, the muffled sounds of footsteps and faint voices from the hall the only reminder that the world outside hasn’t stopped. I glance at the faint sunlight streaming through the small window, my fingers twitching with the urge to do something.

I shift slightly in the bed, wincing as the ache in my leg reminds me of the damage I narrowly avoided. I hate this—just sitting here, feeling useless while the others are out there risking their lives.

My mind races with everything that’s happened. Lyra, the glowing runes, the shadow creature, the key, the map… the dream. I close my eyes, my thoughts circling back to the cold, heavy void, to the voice echoing over and over: “You have been chosen.”

Chosen for what? To be bait? To lead? To find Lyra? Every time I think I have even a sliver of understanding, this world throws something new at me—something bigger, stranger, and more dangerous.

I run my fingers through my hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Kaida may be right—I need to rest. But resting feels like wasting time we don’t have. Whatever’s waiting for us out there, it’s not going to be any easier than what we’ve faced so far.

The door creaks open slightly, and I look up, expecting Kaida or one of the others. Instead, it’s the innkeeper, an older woman with kind eyes and a tray of food.

“Figured you could use something to eat,” she says softly, setting the tray on the table beside me.

“Oh thanks,” I mutter, offering a faint smile.

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze lingering on my leg. “You looked like you’ve been through quite the ordeal when they came back with you,” she says gently. “Rest is the best medicine, you know.”

I nod, my chest tightening slightly. “Yeah… I know.”

She smiles faintly, patting my hand before leaving the room. The quiet returns, but the smell of the warm bread and soup on the tray is comforting in its own way.

I can’t believe she brought me food I guess she felt bad…

As I sit there, staring at the tray, I can’t shake the feeling that this moment—this small, quiet pause—is the calm before another storm.

I stare at the tray of food, my appetite dulled by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. At least they found me, I think, a small shiver running down my spine.

If they hadn’t… I let the thought hang in my mind for a moment, the weight of it pressing down on me. I close my eyes, taking a slow, shaky breath. Jeez, I’m an idiot. Why did I jump through that hole?

I lean back against the pillows, my hands gripping the blanket tightly. I almost died, I think, the memory of the shadow’s cold tendrils and the creeping numbness flashing through my mind. And now… there’s a remnant of it. Or something.

I glance down at the bandage on my leg, my stomach twisting. The thought of that thing—whatever it was—leaving a piece of itself behind makes my skin crawl. I clench my fists, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“How did I let this happen?” I mutter under my breath, my voice tinged with anger. “I’m supposed to be leading, not… running headfirst into traps and almost getting killed.”

The faint glow of the map on the table catches my eye, and I stare at it for a long moment. Its gentle pulse feels almost mocking, like it’s taunting me with the path ahead—a path I’m not even sure I’m ready to take.

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair. I have to be smarter, I think. For Lyra, for the group… for myself. I can’t afford another mistake like that.

I glance back at the door, my chest tightening. At least they found me, I think again, the weight of everything settling over me like a heavy cloak.

“I can’t just sit here I should go talk to them about a plan of action.” I think aloud lifting myself off the bed feeling an aching pain through my entire body as I sit up.

I push myself further standing up but as i do I realize the room has turned to darkness. I turn looking at the window but instead of the daylight I saw moments ago its pitch black. No street lights nothing, it looks as if there’s not even a city outside just a dark void.

I turn to the only source of light the previously normal lantern on the wall now glowing with a faint blueish purple light.

My breath catches in my throat as I turn and see… me.

There I am, lying in the bed I just left, my eyes shut, my chest rising and falling slowly, as if I’m fast asleep.

“What the…?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

The ache in my body vanishes as icy fear grips me. I take a hesitant step toward the bed, my legs trembling, my gaze fixed on my own still form.

“Is this… a dream?” I ask aloud, but the sound of my voice feels hollow, like it doesn’t belong here.

I glance around the room, searching for anything familiar, but it’s all wrong. The walls seem farther apart now, stretching into the shadows, and the faint glow from the lantern casts strange, flickering patterns that crawl across the walls like living shadows.

I take another shaky step forward, my eyes glued to my sleeping self. My lips part, a question forming on my tongue, but no sound escapes.

The room feels heavier now, like the air itself is pressing down on me. I swallow hard, my hand twitching as I reach toward the figure on the bed—myself.

Before my fingers can touch the figure, the lantern’s bluish-purple glow intensifies, bathing the room in its eerie light. I flinch, my hand snapping back as a voice echoes softly through the darkness:

“You have been chosen.”

The same voice from the dream. The same voice from the game’s intro.

“No,” I whisper, backing away from the bed. “Not again.”

The shadows in the corners of the room shift and swirl, creeping closer as the light from the lantern pulses in time with the voice.

“Chosen for what?” I shout, my voice breaking. “What do you want from me?”

The room falls silent for a moment, the shadows pausing as if listening. Then the voice speaks again, calm and rhythmic:

“To understand, you must let go.”

“Let go of what?” I demand, my chest heaving.

The shadows inch closer, and the glow from the lantern begins to flicker. The figure on the bed—my body—doesn’t move, doesn’t stir, even as the room grows colder.

I squeeze my eyes shut, panic clawing at my chest. Wake up, wake up, I think desperately, trying to will myself out of this nightmare. The air feels heavy, cold, and wrong, as if the room itself is alive and watching me.

This isn’t real, I tell myself. It’s the remnant of that thing. It has to be messing with my mind. But no matter how hard I try, no matter how tightly I clench my fists or strain to open my eyes into reality, nothing changes.

The cold void presses against me like a weight, suffocating and inescapable. The lantern flickers again, its bluish-purple glow casting eerie shadows that continue to dance across the walls.

“No,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “This can’t be happening. I have to wake up.”

But I’m still here. The figure—me—still lies on the bed, unmoving. The voice echoes again, closer now, as if whispering directly into my ear.

“You cannot run from yourself.”

I shake my head violently, my breathing shallow. “Stop it!” I shout, my voice trembling. “Get out of my head!”

The shadows close in, shifting and swirling around me, as if feeding on my fear. The room seems to stretch and warp, and for a moment, I feel like I’m falling, the floor slipping away beneath my feet.

The voice shifts, its tone warping and twisting until it no longer resembles the smooth, artificial voice from the intro. It deepens, becoming more intimate, more personal—like it’s coming from within me rather than around me.

“I’m part of you now,” it says, the words almost a hiss. “Forever.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I stumble backward, clutching my head as the words echo in my mind. “No,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “No, you’re not. You’re not part of me!”

The shadows twist and writhe, their movements growing faster as they creep closer. The light from the lantern flickers violently, the room plunging into brief moments of total darkness before glowing again.

“You let me in,” the voice continues, mockingly calm. “You opened the door. I am here because of you.”

I shake my head, my heart pounding. “You’re lying,” I say, my voice rising. “I didn’t choose this!”

The figure on the bed—myself—suddenly stirs, its chest rising and falling more rapidly, its head turning slightly toward me. I freeze, my hands trembling as I watch it move.

“You can’t escape,” the voice says, its tone almost gleeful now. “I am in your blood, in your mind. You can fight it, but I’ll always be here… waiting.”

The figure on the bed opens its eyes, and I gasp as they meet mine. They’re not my eyes—they’re dark, swirling pools of shadow, glowing faintly with that same eerie bluish-purple light.

“No!” I scream, my voice ripping through the suffocating darkness.

Suddenly, the pressure vanishes, and I’m jolted back. I blink rapidly, my chest heaving as I sit up. The room is… normal. The faint morning light filters through the window, the sounds of the inn returning—the creak of footsteps in the hallway, the distant chatter of voices.

I press a hand to my chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat. Everything looks exactly as it did before. The lantern is its usual warm glow. There’s no darkness, no void, no figure lying in my bed.

But in the back of my mind, faint and distant, I hear it.

A laugh.

Quiet, mocking, like it’s hiding just out of reach.

I shiver, gripping the blanket tightly as I glance around the room again, my breathing still uneven. The shadows in the corners of the room seem normal now, but my mind races with doubt. Was it real? Was it the remnant? Was it just my imagination?

I clench my fists, trying to steady myself, but the laughter doesn’t fade. It lingers, faint and insidious, like an itch I can’t scratch.

“I’m fine,” I whisper to myself, as much to convince myself as to push the voice away. “It’s over. I’m fine.”

But deep down, I know it’s not over. Not yet.

I sit there, gripping the edge of the bed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can you hear me?”

The room remains quiet, the only sounds the muffled creak of footsteps in the hallway and the distant murmur of voices from the inn. For a moment, I think there’s no response, that maybe I’m imagining it.

Then, faintly, so faintly that it sends a shiver down my spine, I hear it.

“Always.”

The word echoes in the back of my mind, soft but unmistakable, like a shadow brushing against my thoughts.

I swallow hard, my chest tightening. “What… what do you want?” I whisper, my hands trembling.

The voice chuckles, quiet and menacing, like it’s savoring my fear. “You’ll see,” it says, its tone almost playful. “Soon.”

The laughter fades, leaving only the faintest echo in its place. My breathing quickens, and I glance around the room, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows. But there’s nothing—just the ordinary, sunlit room.

My voice trembles, but I force myself to speak. “You’re the shadow from the dungeon, aren’t you?”

For a moment, there’s silence. I grip the edge of the bed tighter, my heart pounding as I wait for a response.

Then, the voice returns, its tone smooth, almost amused. “Clever,” it says softly, like it’s mocking me. “But not entirely correct.”

I feel a chill run down my spine. “What do you mean?” I whisper, my throat dry.

The voice chuckles again, dark and low, like it’s savoring my confusion. “The shadow was just a fragment, a piece of something… greater. Something that you invited in when you called for help.”

I shake my head, my stomach twisting. “I didn’t invite anything,” I snap, my voice barely above a whisper. “I was trying to survive!”

“And you did,” the voice says, almost soothingly. “But survival always comes with a cost, doesn’t it?”

I clench my fists, my chest tightening as the words sink in. “You’re… inside me now,” I say, my voice barely steady. “What do you want?”

The voice hums softly, almost thoughtfully. “I haven’t decided yet but you’ll know… in time. For now, let’s just say we’re connected. Bound together.”

I shudder, the weight of its words pressing down on me. “Get out of my head,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

The voice laughs softly, a sound that lingers long after it fades. “Oh, Artemis… I’m not going anywhere.”

“You are my home now,” the voice whispers, its tone soft but dripping with something sinister.

The words send a chill down my spine, but it’s more than that—I can feel it. It’s not just a voice in my mind; it feels like it’s inside my very being, like a weight I can’t shake.

And then, as if to mock me further, I can almost sense its smile. Not something I can see, but a chilling presence—smug, satisfied, like it’s settling in comfortably, knowing it has nowhere else to go.

I grit my teeth, my fists clenching tightly as anger bubbles up. “I’m not your home,” I whisper fiercely, my voice shaking. “You’re nothing to me.”

The voice chuckles, low and menacing, as if my defiance is amusing to it. “Oh, Artemis,” it purrs, “you can fight, you can resist, but we both know the truth.”

I swallow hard, my chest tight as its presence feels more solid, more real. “What truth?” I hiss, my voice breaking slightly.

“You and I,” the voice whispers, its tone almost tender, “are one now. No running. No hiding. No escaping. You’ll see, in time.”

I shudder, my breathing unsteady as the weight of its words presses down on me. “You don’t belong here,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Its laugh echoes faintly, the sound chillingly intimate. “We’ll see,” it murmurs, before fading back into the depths of my mind, its presence lingering like a shadow I can’t shake. The voice’s words repeat in my mind, over and over:

“You are my home now.”

“Quit talking,” I snap, my voice sharp and low as I press my palms against my temples, trying to will it away.

The voice chuckles softly, like it’s reclining comfortably in the corners of my mind. “Don’t like your new roommate?” it teases, its tone light but sinister.

My chest tightens with frustration, and I grit my teeth. “You’re not my roommate,” I growl. “You’re… just a parasite. And I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

The laughter grows, echoing faintly, as if it’s amused by my defiance. “Oh, Artemis,” it purrs, the voice dripping with mockery. “You’re so determined. So full of fire. It’s… endearing.”

I slam my fist against the bed, anger surging through me. “Get out of my head!”

The voice sighs, as if disappointed. “Such hostility,” it murmurs. “You’ll come to see things my way. We’re not so different, you and I.”

Its presence pulls back slightly, retreating to the edges of my consciousness, but I can still feel it there—watching, waiting.

I take a shaky breath, my fists clenched tightly. “You don’t belong here,” I whisper, more to myself than to the voice.

“Perhaps,” it says softly, its words curling in my mind like smoke. “But this is where I am now. And I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

The voice curls around my thoughts like smoke, its tone mocking yet calm. “I don’t belong in here, you say, Artemis? Well, you don’t belong in this world either.”

My fists clench, my nails digging into my palms. “Shut up,” I mutter, but the voice ignores me, its tone growing more smug.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” it continues, its laughter low and sinister. “To escape. To return to your pathetic life of doing… nothing.”

It chuckles softly, the sound crawling through my mind like a cold wind. “You’re no hero, Artemis. You’re no leader. You’re just a scared little soul who stumbled into something far bigger than you could ever handle.”

I grit my teeth, my chest tightening with anger and frustration. “You don’t know anything about me,” I growl.

“Oh, but I do,” the voice purrs, its tone almost soothing. “I’m in here, remember? I see everything. Your doubts. Your regrets. Your weakness.”

I slam my fist into the bed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “If I’m so weak, then why are you so desperate to latch onto me?” I snap, my voice rising. “If my life is so pathetic, why do you need me?”

The voice falls silent for a moment, as if considering my words. Then it speaks again, softer but no less cutting. “Because you’re part of me now,” it whispers. “And together… we’ll be so much more.”

I shiver, the weight of its words pressing down on me. But I won’t let it win. I won’t let it take me.

“No,” I say quietly, forcing the word through clenched teeth.

My body protests as I push myself up, pain shooting through my body, but I don’t stop. I grab my cloak from the foot of the bed, throwing it over my shoulders. My movements are sharp, determined, as I step out of the room and into the hallway.

The voice murmurs faintly in the back of my mind, but I tune it out, letting my focus drown it. Step by step, I make my way toward the main area of the inn, each movement stiff but resolute.

The warm light and faint smell of bread and wood smoke greet me as I enter the common room. The old woman, the innkeeper, is behind the counter, arranging mugs and plates with a peaceful air.

Without waiting, I walk straight up to her, my voice steady but strained. “Do you have any churches or libraries? Anything like that nearby?”

The old woman looks up, startled by my sudden appearance. Her kind eyes flicker with concern as they take in my pale face and the tension in my posture. “Churches or libraries?” she echoes softly, setting down the mug she was holding.

I nod, leaning slightly on the counter. “Yes. Somewhere with records, history, or… magic.” I hesitate, unsure how much to say. “I need to find answers about— something.”

She studies me for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “There’s a small chapel not far from here,” she says slowly. “They might have what you’re looking for.”

“Where?” I ask, the words almost snapping out of me.

She frowns slightly at my urgency but gestures toward the door. “Take the main road east. It’s tucked into the corner of the district, near the artisan shops. You’ll see the steeple. It’s humble, but Father Aldric is wise. He might be able to help.”

I nod, gripping the counter for balance as I straighten up. “Thank you,” I say quietly, my voice tight.

She hesitates, her concern deepening. “Are you sure you should be out and about, dear? You don’t look well. Should I send for your friends?”

I shake my head firmly, pulling the cloak tighter around me. “No. This is something I need to do alone.”

The old woman nods slowly, though I can see the doubt in her eyes. “Be careful, then,” she says softly.

I don’t respond. My focus is already on the door, my mind racing as I step out into the bustling streets.

“Yes, leave your friends,” the voice whispers, its tone dripping with amusement, like it’s reveling in my isolation.

“Shut up,” I snap, my voice a little louder than I intended.

A few people nearby glance in my direction, their curious looks lingering for a moment before they quickly return to their conversations and tasks. I pull my hood up, lowering my gaze as I keep walking through the bustling streets.

The city feels alive, the chatter of merchants, the creak of carts, and the shuffle of footsteps filling the air. But to me, it all feels muted, distant, like I’m walking through it without really being a part of it.

“You can’t ignore me forever,” the voice murmurs in my mind, quieter now, almost playful. “You’re alone, Artemis. Just like you wanted.”

I clench my fists beneath the folds of my cloak, focusing on the path ahead. The faint outline of the chapel’s steeple comes into view, rising above the surrounding buildings. It’s not much—a simple structure with weathered stone walls and a modest bell tower—but it feels like a lifeline.

“Alone, wandering, desperate for answers,” the voice continues, its tone almost sing-song. “They’ll leave you behind, you know. Isn’t that what they always do?”

“Shut up,” I whisper again, my jaw tightening as I quicken my pace.

The chapel draws closer, its doors slightly ajar. The faint smell of incense drifts through the air, mingling with the bustling scents of the city.

I stop just outside the chapel, the faint smell of incense wafting through the air. The simple stone structure looms before me, its weathered surface a stark contrast to the bustling streets behind me.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. My heart pounds in my chest, the voice’s mocking words still echoing faintly in my mind. But I push them aside, clenching my fists beneath the folds of my cloak.

With one last breath, I step inside.

The air changes immediately, cooler and quieter than the outside world. The sounds of the city fade, replaced by the soft hum of silence and the faint crackle of candles burning along the walls. Wooden pews line the small space, their surfaces worn smooth from years of use. At the far end of the room stands a modest altar, draped in simple cloth, with a figure kneeling in quiet prayer before it.

The figure rises slowly, turning toward me. An older man with a kind face and sharp, piercing eyes meets my gaze. He’s dressed in simple robes, a faint symbol embroidered on the front—a circle surrounded by runes I don’t recognize.

“Welcome,” he says, his voice calm but warm. “I am Father Aldric. What brings you to the chapel today?”

For a moment, I hesitate, the weight of his gaze making my chest tighten. I glance around the quiet space, the faint flicker of candlelight dancing on the stone walls.

“I… I need help,” I say finally, my voice softer than I expected. “I’m looking for answers.”

Father Aldric nods, gesturing toward one of the pews. “Then you’ve come to the right place,” he says gently. “Sit, and tell me what troubles you.”

I glance at the pew, my legs trembling slightly from the effort of standing. Slowly, I move forward and lower myself onto the wooden bench, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

“Uhh…” The sound barely escapes my lips as I freeze, staring at Father Aldric.

What do I even say to him? The thought pounds in my head, louder than the voice for once. How do I even begin to explain what’s happening without sounding insane?

I glance at him again, his kind but piercing gaze unwavering. What if he thinks I’m crazy? I wonder, gripping the edge of the pew.

Or worse, my thoughts spiral, what if possession is common in this world, and the solution is to… get rid of me? My chest tightens, my breathing shallow as the idea takes root.

The voice in the back of my mind chuckles softly, its mocking tone sending a chill through me. “Smart girl,” it whispers. “Trust no one. After all, you know how trust ends, don’t you?”

I swallow hard, forcing the voice to the back of my mind as I stare down at my trembling hands. The silence between Father Aldric and me stretches on, and I can feel his eyes studying me, waiting patiently.

Finally, I take a shaky breath, my voice low. “I don’t… know how to explain this,” I say, barely meeting his gaze. “But… something’s wrong. I think… something might be inside me.”

Father Aldric’s expression doesn’t change, his calm demeanor unnerving in its steadiness. He nods slowly, as if my words were something he’s heard before.

“Go on,” he says, his tone gentle but firm.

“There was a creature,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “Beneath the city, in the tunnels.”

Father Aldric doesn’t react, his calm gaze fixed on me. He waits silently, his patience unnerving.

“It… it wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before,” I continue, my hands clenching tightly in my lap. “It was a shadow—a living shadow. We tried to fight it, but it was… wrong. It didn’t respond to normal weapons.”

Father Aldric tilts his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Go on,” he says, his tone even.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to continue. “We managed to destroy it, but… something happened,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “Before it was gone, it—”

I pause, glancing away. “It… left something behind,” I admit. “Something that’s still with me. It’s like a voice, always there, always whispering.”

Father Aldric’s expression remains steady, though his eyes flicker with something—recognition, maybe? Or caution?

I glance down at my hands, trembling slightly. “I think… I think it’s inside me,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

The silence that follows feels heavy, like the weight of the world pressing down on me. When Father Aldric finally speaks, his voice is calm but firm.

“You say this voice remains with you,” he says. “Does it try to influence you? To control you?”

I grit my teeth, my voice tight as I respond. “Yes.”

Father Aldric leans back slightly, his expression darkening. “This is… troublesome,” he says, his voice measured. “A presence like this, is not something easily dealt with.”

My stomach sinks at his words. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice tense.

He sighs, folding his hands together. “Some things of this nature cannot be dispelled or exorcised from the outside,” he explains, his tone grave. “Such entities anchor themselves deeply, entwining with the host’s mind, spirit, and… soul.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “So… what do I do?”

Father Aldric meets my gaze, his expression somber but firm. “This presence cannot be removed from outside, that means the only way to be rid of it is from within.”

“From within?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods. “You must confront it directly,” he says. “Challenge its hold over you. Understand its nature, its true purpose, and what it wants. Only then can you hope to break free.”

My chest tightens, fear and frustration bubbling up inside me. “But how do I do that?” I ask, my voice rising. “How do I confront something that’s… inside me?”

Father Aldric places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “That is something only you can discover,” he says quietly. “It will not be easy, and it will be dangerous. But if you do not face it, its influence will grow stronger, and it could consume you entirely if you let it.”

I close my eyes, taking a shaky breath. The voice stirs faintly in the back of my mind, its presence a cold reminder of what I’m up against.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” I admit, my voice trembling.

“You are stronger than you know child,” Father Aldric says, his tone resolute. “But strength alone will not save you. You must also be willing to face the truths you’ve hidden from yourself.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and I nod slowly, my mind racing.

“Can you at least try to get rid of it?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended, the desperation bleeding through.

The voice in the back of my mind laughs softly, a mocking sound that sends a chill through me. “Oh, Artemis,” it whispers, its tone dripping with amusement. “Do you really think it’ll be that easy?”

Father Aldric frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies me. “I could try,” he says carefully, “but I must warn you: if this entity is as deeply rooted as I suspect, any external attempt to remove it could be… dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?” I press, leaning forward.

He sighs, folding his hands together. “An attempt to force it out could harm you, possibly irreparably. These things do not leave willingly. They fight back, often lashing out at the host.”

The voice chuckles again, its presence curling in my mind like smoke. “See? Even he knows you can’t get rid of me,” it taunts.

I grit my teeth, trying to push the voice aside. “But it’s already dangerous!” I snap. “It’s… it’s in my head, laughing at me, whispering things. If you don’t try, it’s just going to get worse!”

Father Aldric’s gaze softens, his expression full of concern. “I understand your fear,” he says gently. “But there is a difference between confronting a darkness and recklessly provoking it. If you truly wish for me to try, I will. But you must be prepared for the risks.”

“So what do I do?” I ask, my voice breaking slightly. “I need to help my friends. I can’t just… sit around while this thing is in me.”

Father Aldric lets out a deep sigh, his gaze softening as he looks at me with a mix of pity and understanding. “Come,” he says, motioning for me to follow him toward the back of the building.

I hesitate for a moment before limping after him, the ache in my leg a constant reminder of how much I’ve already been through. The back of the chapel is quiet and simple, lined with shelves filled with dusty tomes and vials of faintly glowing liquids.

He picks up a small, crystal-clear vial from a shelf and hands it to me. The liquid inside shimmers faintly, almost like sunlight caught in water. “Drink this,” he says, his voice low but firm. “It will heal your wounds fully. But understand this—it will not affect the remaining part of the creature that lingers within you.”

I stare at the vial, my fingers brushing against the cool glass as I take it from him. “So, it’ll heal my body, but not… whatever’s in my mind?” I ask, my voice filled with hesitation.

He nods gravely. “Your physical strength will return, but the battle for your spirit is one you must face on your own.”

The voice in my head chuckles softly, its tone dripping with mockery. “Go on, then,” it whispers. “Heal your precious body our body. But you’ll never be rid of me.”

I grit my teeth, shaking off the voice as I uncork the vial. The faint scent of herbs and something sweet fills the air, and for a moment, I hesitate.

“Will it hurt?” I ask, glancing at Aldric.

“No,” he says gently. “It will restore you better than any potion you’ll find anywhere else. But be prepared—your true battle is just beginning.”

I hesitate only for a moment before tipping the vial back and drinking its contents. The liquid is cool and smooth, with a faint sweetness that lingers on my tongue. As it slides down my throat, a soothing warmth spreads through my body, chasing away the aches and pains like sunlight melting ice.

I exhale sharply, my muscles relaxing as the potion works its magic. For the first time in what feels like forever, the sharp, constant pain in my leg disappears entirely. The tension in my chest eases, and I feel… whole again.

But before relief can fully settle, the voice stirs in the back of my mind, its tone dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Ahh,” it murmurs, almost purring. “Thank you, Artemis. So kind of you to heal my new vessel.”

My stomach twists, and I grip the empty vial tightly, my knuckles turning white. “Shut up,” I hiss under my breath.

The voice chuckles softly, its presence curling around my thoughts like smoke. “Oh, don’t be like that,” it says, its tone mockingly sweet. “You feel better, don’t you? So do I. We’re both stronger now. Isn’t that a win for both of us?”

I slam the vial down on a nearby table, my breathing uneven as anger bubbles up inside me. “Get out of my head!” I snap, louder than I intended.

Father Aldric watches me closely, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “The presence is still strong within you,” he says gravely. “But your strength has returned. Use it wisely, Artemis. You’ll need it for the trials ahead.”

I nod tightly, trying to focus on the weight of his words rather than the voice’s mocking laughter echoing in my mind.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice strained. “For the potion.”

Father Aldric nods solemnly. “Go to your friends,” he says. “They will need you as much as you need them. But remember—this is only the beginning. The creature’s hold could grow stronger if left unchecked. You must confront it, Artemis. Sooner rather than later.”

I clench my fists, the voice laughing softly in the back of my mind as I turn toward the chapel’s exit.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, my voice strained as I turn and walk out of the chapel.

“It is my duty,” Father Aldric replies solemnly, his voice steady but distant as I step into the bustling streets.

The sunlight feels harsher now, the noise of the city almost overwhelming after the quiet of the chapel. I pull my cloak tighter around me and make my way back toward the inn, my steps hurried, my thoughts swirling.

“Yes, let’s return to them,” the voice whispers, its tone calm but filled with dark amusement.

I tense immediately, my body tightening in response. “Shut up,” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible over the crowd.

But then, I feel it—a movement that isn’t mine. My arm lifts forward, the muscles pulling as though controlled by an invisible force. My hand clenches into a fist, the motion deliberate and alien.

I stop dead in my tracks, panic surging through me as I stare at my own hand. My heart pounds as I try to will it back under my control, but it holds steady, the fingers curling tighter as the voice chuckles softly in my mind.

“See, Artemis?” it murmurs, its tone smooth and smug. “We’re getting closer. You’ll understand soon enough.”

I grit my teeth, focusing all my willpower on forcing my arm down. Slowly, the tension eases, and my arm lowers back to my side, but the feeling of wrongness lingers like a cold shadow.

“Stay out of my body,” I hiss, my voice trembling with anger and fear.

The voice laughs again, quiet but confident. “Your body? Oh, Artemis, haven’t you realized yet? It’s ours now.”

I stop dead in my tracks, standing just across the road from the inn. My breathing is uneven, my heart racing. The warmth of the sunlight feels suffocating now, as if it’s bearing down on me, exposing me.

I glance up at the building, the faint sounds of voices and laughter drifting through the open windows. Inside, my friends are probably waiting, planning our next move.

But my hand… the way it moved on its own. The voice’s laughter echoes faintly in the back of my mind, its words twisting in my thoughts. “It’s ours now.”

I clench my fists, anger and fear surging through me. “I can’t let it hurt them,” I whisper to myself, my voice shaking.

The voice stirs again, its tone calm and smooth. “Oh, Artemis,” it says mockingly. “You’re worried about them? That’s sweet. But they’ll be fine… as long as you don’t lose control right?”

I grit my teeth, shaking my head. “Shut up,” I hiss under my breath.

But the voice just chuckles softly, its presence curling around my thoughts like smoke. “Go on, then,” it murmurs. “Stay here. Hide. Or maybe run. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

My legs feel heavy, frozen in place as I stare at the inn. My mind races, torn between the urge to join my friends and the fear of what might happen if the voice takes control.

“Stop!” I hiss, gripping my head as I stagger to the side of the road, away from prying eyes. My nails dig into my temples as if I can physically force the voice out. “What are you? Why are you trying to control me?”

The voice hums softly, a mocking sound that coils through my mind like a snake. “Why?” it whispers, almost playfully. “Because I can.”

I clench my teeth, my chest tightening with frustration. “That’s not an answer,” I growl. “What are you? A shadow? A curse? Why me?”

The laughter grows louder, dark and intimate, like it’s wrapping itself around my very thoughts. “You want answers?” the voice says, its tone shifting to something deeper, more ominous. “Then listen closely, Artemis. I’m the part of you that you try to deny. The part of you that wants control, that craves power.”

“That’s not true,” I snap, my breathing uneven. “You’re not me. You’re—”

“I’m what you invited in,” the voice interrupts, its tone calm but sharp, cutting through my denial. “Do you remember? That glowing room. The runes. The way you reached out, desperate for anything to save you. You didn’t think about the cost, did you? You just… took.”

The memory flashes in my mind—the glowing runes, the surge of magic, the desperate need to survive. My stomach twists as the realization sets in.

“You’re lying,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Am I?” the voice murmurs, almost tenderly.

My grip on my head tightens, my knees threatening to buckle. The voice laughs again, low and menacing, as if it knows it’s already won.

“You’ll see soon enough,” it says, its tone dripping with confidence. “You and I are just getting started. I’ve got it all figured out now.”

I stagger back, leaning against the wall of a nearby building as my vision blurs. My chest heaves, anger and fear swirling inside me.

I burst through the door of the inn, my breathing ragged and my heart pounding as I make my way to the counter. The old woman looks up, her warm, concerned eyes narrowing as she takes in my disheveled appearance.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice tinged with worry.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though the tremor in my voice betrays me. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Tell the people I was with… tell them I’m sorry, but I have to go do something. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Her brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly. “And what if they ask where you’ve gone?”

I shake my head firmly, my hands gripping the counter as if to steady myself. “Don’t tell them anything,” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “This is something I need to do alone.”

Her concern deepens, but she nods slowly, her expression resigned. “If that’s what you want,” she says softly. “But they care about you, you know. They’ll worry.”

“I know,” I whisper, my chest tightening as guilt claws at me. “But this is for their safety. Please, just do this for me.”

She nods again, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she speaks. “I’ll tell them,” she says. “But be careful out there, dear. And come back in one piece.”

I offer a weak smile, the weight of her words pressing down on me. “Thank you,” I say quietly before turning and heading back out into the streets, the sunlight almost blinding as I step outside.

I keep my hood pulled low as I walk through the bustling streets, weaving between carts, merchants, and wandering townsfolk. The noise of the city feels distant, muffled, like it’s coming from behind a thick wall.

I duck into an alley, avoiding a cluster of guards as they make their rounds. My heart pounds with every step, but I push the fear aside, forcing myself to keep moving.

The voice stirs again, its presence like a cold wind brushing against my thoughts. “Running away?” it murmurs, its tone dripping with mockery. “How noble of you, Artemis.”

“Shut up,” I mutter under my breath, quickening my pace.

The voice chuckles softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “You can ignore me all you like,” it says smoothly. “But we both know you can’t escape what’s inside you.”

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I navigate another alley. The shadows here feel deeper, darker, but I welcome the quiet as I step out of the crowd.

The streets and alleys twist and turn, but I don’t stop moving, trying my best to block out the noise, the stares, the voice.

“Want me to sing a song to cheer you up?” the voice says suddenly, its tone light and mocking, like it’s enjoying this far too much.

“What? No!” I snap, my frustration bubbling over. “Just be quiet!”

The voice laughs softly, the sound curling through my mind like smoke. “Suit yourself,” it murmurs, its tone dripping with amusement. “But I think you’ll find I’m very hard to ignore.”

I grit my teeth, my pace quickening as I weave through another narrow alley. “I’ll ignore you just fine,” I mutter under my breath.

“Of course you will,” the voice says with a chuckle. “After all, you’ve been doing such a great job so far.”

I clench my fists, my frustration mounting as the voice continues to hum softly in the back of my mind, as if to taunt me.

I slump against the wall of the alley, my legs giving out as I slide down to sit on the cold, uneven stone. My head falls into my hands, my breathing shaky as I mutter, “I can’t go back. I can’t hurt them.”

The voice stirs again, its tone playful, yet laced with malice. “Don’t want to hurt your boyfriend?” it teases, the words cutting through my thoughts like a knife.

I shake my head fiercely, gripping my hair. “I’m not going to hurt them,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

“For now,” the voice says smoothly, as if it’s finishing my sentence. “But you need them, don’t you? To find Lyra. To feel useful. They need you, too—their ‘fearless leader.’” The way it mimics Veyron’s tone when he said it feels like a slap in the face.

I close my eyes tightly, trying to block it out, but its words burrow deeper. “Think about it,” the voice continues, almost soothing now. “They rely on you. They trust you. And you trust yourself to lead them… right?”

I press my palms into my temples, trying to silence it. “Stop it,” I whisper.

The voice chuckles softly, like it’s enjoying my struggle. “Oh, Artemis,” it murmurs, “you’ll crack eventually. You’re only human, after all.”

I sit there, frozen, unsure of what to do. The weight of its words presses down on me, heavy and suffocating.

“Just because I’m in you doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” the voice says, its tone light and mockingly cheerful, like it’s trying to convince me this is all some kind of joke.

I clench my fists, staring down at the ground. “We’re not friends,” I growl, my voice low but firm. “You’re not anything to me.”

The voice chuckles, the sound curling through my thoughts like smoke. “That’s not very friendly,” it murmurs, almost pouting. “You might want to reconsider. After all, I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you… without me.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay calm even as anger bubbles up inside me. “You’re just a parasite,” I snap. “I’ll figure out how to get rid of you.”

“Maybe,” it says lightly, as if unconcerned. “But until then, why not make the most of it? We could even… work together.”

I shake my head fiercely, my jaw tightening. “I’d rather die,” I hiss.

The voice hums thoughtfully. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” it says smoothly. “But if it does, well… I’ll be here to enjoy the ride.”

I press my hands against my head, trying to block it out. The laughter echoes faintly in the back of my mind, its presence a constant, unwelcome reminder that this thing isn’t going to leave on its own.

“How about I ‘promise’ not to hurt them?” the voice says, its tone dripping with mockery, as if it’s trying to bargain with me like a child teasing a parent.

“No,” I snap, my voice sharper now. My fists clench at my sides, the anger bubbling just below the surface. “Why do you want me to go back to them so bad?”

The voice laughs softly, the sound curling through my thoughts like smoke. “Why?” it echoes, feigning innocence. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re useful to you… and to me.”

I shudder, gripping the edge of my cloak as my breathing quickens. “Useful how?” I demand. “What are you planning?”

The voice chuckles again, dark and amused. “Oh, Artemis,” it murmurs, its tone almost soothing. “Always so suspicious. Can’t I just enjoy watching you squirm?”

I shake my head, my heart pounding. “You’re lying,” I say firmly. “You want me to go back for a reason. What are you trying to do?”

The voice goes quiet for a moment, the silence heavy and suffocating. When it speaks again, its tone is calm but chilling.

“Let’s just say,” it whispers, “that I have plans. Big plans. And your little friends? They’re a part of them. They’ll be quite helpful just like you.“

My stomach twists, and I feel a chill run down my spine. “I won’t let you use them,” I say through gritted teeth.

The voice laughs softly, its presence curling deeper into my mind. “We’ll see,” it says simply.

“Just stop talking!” I snap, my voice trembling as I grip my head tightly. “All you’ve done is constantly contradict yourself! First, you act like you’re going to hurt them, then you say you need them, or that you want them to help you for something. Just stop!”

The voice pauses, and for a moment, there’s a silence so heavy it makes the air around me feel thick.

“I don’t care what you want,” I growl, my teeth clenched as I push myself to my feet. “But you’re not staying here. You’re not staying in me.”

The voice hums softly, its tone calm, even smug. “Such fire,” it murmurs, its presence brushing against my thoughts like smoke. “Such passion. It’s almost… inspiring.”

I glare down the empty alley, as if I could face the voice directly. “I’m going to find a way to get rid of you,” I say, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. “I don’t care what it takes.”

The voice laughs, low and mocking. “You’re welcome to try, Artemis,” it says smoothly. “But you’d better be careful. If you push too hard, you might just break… and where would your precious friends be then?”

My chest tightens, but I shake my head fiercely, refusing to let its words sink in. “They’ll be fine,” I hiss. “Because I’ll protect them—from you and whatever else this world throws at us.”

The voice chuckles again, its tone fading into the back of my mind like a lingering shadow. “We’ll see,” it whispers, and then it’s gone—for now.

I slump back against the wall, staring blankly at the alley’s uneven stone floor. My mind races, the weight of everything pressing down on me. All I have right now is time, I think to myself. Time to figure out how to fight this thing.

I clench my fists, running through my options.

The guild tower? Maybe an npc there has experience with possessions… but they’d probably want details, and if they think I’m a threat…

I shake my head, pushing the thought aside.

Leaving the city? That could give me time alone to think without putting my friends at risk… but I’d be fully abandoning them. What if something happens while I’m gone?

I bite my lip, my stomach twisting as I try to weigh the risks.

The guard? No, i still don’t trust him why should i. And if he thinks I’m dangerous… Even if he is trying to help and sent us to the real map seller—

I pause, my mind latching onto the thought. The real map seller, I think. Maybe he has somewhere I could go to fix this.

I push myself up slowly, my legs still shaky but holding steady. My chest tightens as doubt creeps in, but I shove it down. I can’t stay here forever, I think. I have to do something.

I pause mid-step, the weight of doubt pressing down on me like a heavy stone. If a priest couldn’t help me… how could anyone else?

The thought settles deep in my chest, cold and suffocating. Father Aldric knew what he was talking about right? he saw the danger in trying to force this thing out, even warned me that it had to be fought from within.

But I don’t even know where to start. And now, I’m supposed to believe that anyone else could help? The guard, the map seller—what could they possibly do that a priest of all people couldn’t?

The voice stirs faintly in the back of my mind, chuckling softly. “Finally catching on,” it murmurs, its tone dripping with amusement. “No one can help you, Artemis. Not the priest. Not your friends. Not anyone.”

I grit my teeth, anger bubbling up despite the cold knot of fear in my stomach. “Shut up,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

The voice hums thoughtfully, its presence like smoke curling through my mind. “But don’t worry,” it says softly. “You have me.”

I shake my head violently, pushing the voice away as I lean back against the wall. My fists clench tightly, my nails digging into my palms. No, I think fiercely. There has to be a way.

But as I stand there, the weight of doubt and exhaustion pulling me down, I can’t help but feel the faintest flicker of despair. What if… what if there really is no way to fight this?

“Let’s do a mission,” the voice says suddenly, its tone light and almost… excited, like it’s suggesting a harmless adventure. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll even answer some questions for you.”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. “What?” I whisper, more out of disbelief than actual curiosity.

“You heard me,” the voice says, a hint of amusement creeping into its tone. “A mission. Something to distract you from all this… moping around in alleys. You’re not going to figure anything out by sitting here.”

I clench my fists, my body tense. “Why would I trust you? You haven’t done anything but torment me since this started.”

The voice laughs softly, the sound curling in my mind like smoke. “Torment? Artemis, please. I’ve just been keeping you company.”

I glare at nothing, my frustration boiling over. “Keeping me company?” I snap. “You’ve been mocking me, trying to control me—”

“And yet, here we are,” the voice interrupts smoothly. “You, stuck, lost, and running out of options. Me, full of helpful advice and plenty of answers. Think of it as… a partnership. For now.”

I hesitate, my mind racing. Is it lying? Or does it actually have answers? The idea of working with this thing is revolting, but… what if it’s right? What if this is my best chance to learn something, anything, about what I’m up against?

“I’m not doing anything that puts anyone else in danger,” I say finally, my voice firm.

The voice hums thoughtfully. “Fine,” it says, almost lazily. “Then let’s keep it simple. There’s missions available at the guild tower. Pick something small, something easy. I’ll even promise to behave… for now.”

The way it says “for now” sends a chill through me, but the faint glimmer of hope that it might actually answer my questions keeps me from dismissing the idea entirely.

“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth, the word heavy with reluctance. My fists tighten at my sides as I push myself off the wall. If anything, maybe I’ll figure something out by doing anything other than just sitting here thinking, I add silently, momentarily forgetting that the voice can hear my thoughts.

“Oh, Artemis,” it says, its tone practically purring with satisfaction. “Finally, some sense. Action is so much more productive than moping, don’t you think?”

I scowl, pulling my hood tighter over my head as I make my way out of the alley and toward the guild hall. “Don’t push your luck,” I mutter under my breath.

The voice chuckles softly, its presence a faint, unwelcome curl in the back of my mind. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” it says smoothly.

The streets grow busier as I approach the guild hall, the familiar chatter of adventurers and merchants filling the air. The massive wooden doors of the tower loom ahead, and I hesitate for just a moment before stepping inside.

“Go on,” the voice urges, its tone light. “Pick something fun. I’ll even help you choose if you want.”

I ignore the voice entirely, refusing to let it dictate my choices. My gaze lands on the familiar NPC from the guild tower—the one we met when we first arrived in the city. They stand by a desk near the job board, their posture perfectly poised, their expression calm and unreadable.

As I approach, the same glowing panels as before flicker to life, hovering in front of me. The faint hum of magic surrounds them, and I squint slightly as the text comes into focus, displaying a selection of quests:
1. Lost Heirloom – Retrieve a stolen necklace from a group bandits.
2. Merchant Escort – Accompany a merchant caravan to a neighboring town.
3. Forest Disturbance – Investigate strange noises coming from the woods near the city. High risk.
4. Unmarked Quest – A faintly glowing icon with no description or details.

The unmarked quest catches my attention immediately, the faint glow around it unsettling but oddly… intriguing.

“Curious,” the voice murmurs in the back of my mind. “An unmarked quest. Now, that sounds interesting.”

I shake my head, focusing instead on the simpler options. The lost heirloom quest looks straightforward, and the merchant escort could be a safe way to clear my head.

Still, the forest disturbance has a slightly higher risk, but it might offer the chance to learn more about how this world works.

I reach out and tap on the glowing panel for the Merchant Escort quest. The moment my finger makes contact, the panel expands, displaying more details about the task:

Quest: Merchant Escort
Description: A merchant caravan seeks protection on the road to the neighboring town of Eldenwarren. Rumors of bandits and stray beasts have made travel dangerous. Your duty is to ensure their safe arrival.
Reward: Gold, supplies, XP.
Difficulty: Moderate.

The panel flashes once before disappearing, and a soft chime echoes in my ears as the quest is accepted.

“Safe choice,” the voice whispers, its tone dripping with mild disappointment. “But I suppose it suits you—keeping things simple and predictable.”

I grit my teeth, ignoring it as I turn to the NPC. They look at me with their usual calm expression and give a small nod. “The merchant caravan will depart from the southern gate within the hour,” they say, their tone flat but polite. “Be prepared for potential delays or danger on the road.”

I nod curtly, stepping back from the desk. The glowing panels vanish, and the bustling energy of the guild hall surrounds me again.

The voice hums softly, as if it’s waiting for something. “A caravan of merchants,” it murmurs. “Plenty of opportunities for trouble… and maybe answers.”

I ignore it again, pulling my cloak tighter as I step out of the guild hall and into the streets. The southern gate isn’t far, but the weight of the voice’s presence lingers with every step.

I glance at the shops lining the streets as I make my way south, their colorful signs and displays teasing me with the supplies I can’t afford. My meager pouch of gold isn’t even enough for an apple, let alone anything else.

I sigh, pulling my cloak tighter around me. “Guess I should just wait at the gate,” I mutter to myself, my voice low.

“Oh, don’t be so grim,” the voice says, its tone light and almost cheerful. “You’ll be fine. A bow, arrows, and your charming wit—what more could you possibly need?”

I roll my eyes, forcing myself to keep walking. The southern gate comes into view quickly, its towering stone archway bustling with activity. Merchants load up carts, their voices sharp as they bark orders at workers carrying crates and barrels. A few armed guards patrol the area, their eyes scanning the crowd.

Near the gate, a caravan of three wagons is being prepped. The lead merchant—a wiry man with sharp eyes and a permanent scowl—stands near the front, shouting at his crew to hurry up.

I approach cautiously, my hood still pulled low. He notices me almost immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You here for the escort job?” he asks, his voice gruff.

I nod, straightening slightly. “Yeah, I’m here to help.”

He looks me up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on my bow. “Hope you’re better than the last adventurer they sent,” he mutters. “Got spooked by a wolf and ran off before we even left the city.”

I don’t respond, simply tightening my grip on my cloak.

“Well, you look like you can handle yourself,” he says, waving me toward the caravan. “We leave in ten minutes. Stick close, keep your eyes open, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Got it,” I say quietly, stepping toward the wagons.

The voice hums softly in the back of my mind. “A simple escort job,” it murmurs. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“The last adventurer…” I think to myself, the merchant’s words replaying in my mind. Is that just some preprogrammed line meant to add flavor to this world, or… was there actually another real person here before me?

The thought tightens my chest, making the bustling caravan around me seem distant. If it’s just flavor text, then it’s meaningless—a filler to make this world feel alive. But if it’s not…

Was there another player here?

The merchant’s sharp voice snaps me out of my thoughts as he barks more orders at the workers. My gaze shifts to the wagons, the merchants, and the guards preparing for the trip. None of them seem out of place, but the question lingers, gnawing at the back of my mind.

The voice stirs softly, its tone amused. “Wouldn’t that be something?” it whispers. “Another lost soul, just like you, running off scared. Maybe you’ll find their ghost out there.”

I sit down on a sturdy crate near the wagons, watching quietly as the merchants and workers load the last of their supplies. Crates of goods are hauled onto the wagons, barrels rolled into place, and tarps secured tightly over the cargo. The lead merchant continues barking orders, his sharp voice cutting through the chatter of the workers.

I pull my cloak tighter around me, letting the ambient noise of the bustling gate fade into the background. My thoughts drift back to his comment about the “last adventurer.” Was it just a line? A piece of flavor text to make this world feel more alive? Or was there really someone else, like me, who was here before?

The voice stirs again, its tone playful. “Sitting around and brooding again, are we?” it says, chuckling softly. “You know, you could just ask. It might even make you feel better.”

I ignore it, focusing instead on the caravan. The wagons are well-built but clearly meant for carrying goods, not passengers. The workers move quickly, their movements efficient, like they’ve done this a hundred times before.

A few guards mill about near the rear wagon, their weapons casual at their sides. They don’t look particularly alert, but then again, maybe they think the presence of an escort is enough to deter trouble.

The lead merchant finally claps his hands together, signaling that the preparations are done. He glances over at me, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“You ready, archer?” he calls out, his voice cutting through the noise.

I nod, standing up and brushing off my cloak. “Ready,” I say simply.

The caravan begins to move, the wagons creaking slightly as the workers guide them toward the southern gate.

I step forward, weaving through the bustling workers as the caravan begins to roll toward the gate. The lead merchant strides alongside the first wagon, his sharp eyes scanning the area with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this too many times to count.

I quicken my pace to catch up to him, my boots crunching softly against the dirt road. “Hey,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Earlier, you mentioned something about the last adventurer. What did you mean by that?”

He glances at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I think he’s going to ignore the question, but then he sighs, scratching at his beard. “What’s it to you?” he asks, his tone wary.

I shrug, keeping my voice calm. “Just curious. Sounds like it didn’t go well.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Didn’t go well is putting it lightly,” he mutters. “Kid was green as grass. Barely out the gate before he saw a wolf and bolted. Left us high and dry. Had to hire another guard last minute just to make it to Eldenwarren.”

“How many ‘adventurers’ have you seen?” I ask, keeping my tone even, though my chest tightens as I wait for his response.

The merchant raises an eyebrow at me, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Plenty,” he says with a shrug. “This city’s crawling with them—swordsmen, archers, mages, you name it. Adventurers are always looking for work.”

I frown, pressing further. “No, I mean… people like the one you mentioned. The kid who ran off. Were they… different somehow? Not like the others?”

He stops walking for a moment, studying me carefully. The faint creak of the wagon wheels fills the silence as the rest of the caravan moves ahead. “Why do you care so much about this?” he asks, his voice quieter but no less suspicious.

“I’m just trying to get a sense of what to expect,” I say quickly, deflecting slightly. “If there are others like that, I’d like to know.”

The merchant grunts, turning his gaze forward again as he resumes walking. “To answer your question, no,” he says gruffly. “Most adventurers are tough, seasoned types. The kid who ran off was… odd. Looked like they didn’t belong. Didn’t know the basics of how things worked. Made me think they weren’t cut out for the job.”

A chill runs down my spine, but I keep my expression neutral. “And you’ve only seen one like that?”

“So far,” he replies. “But you’re asking a lot of questions. Makes me wonder… are you one of them?”

His sharp gaze cuts toward me, and I feel my stomach twist.

“One of them?” I ask, my voice carefully neutral, though my heart pounds in my chest. “What do you mean by that?”

The merchant squints at me, his sharp eyes studying my face like he’s trying to read a hidden message. “You know what I mean I already said, not like the others. Different. The kid who ran off? They were odd, just like you.”

Just like me? The words echo in my mind, and a sinking realization begins to take hold.

If most of the city’s NPC population is considered ‘adventurers,’ does he mean real player characters? People like me?

The voice in the back of my mind hums softly, amused. “Now, this is interesting,” it whispers. “Maybe you’re not as special as you thought, Artemis. Or maybe… you’re more special.”

I force myself to focus, ignoring the voice as I try to piece together what the merchant is saying. “Odd how?” I ask, my tone steady despite the turmoil inside me.

The merchant crosses his arms, his expression guarded. “Questions that don’t make sense. Acting like they don’t know the basics of how the world works. Like they’re from… somewhere else… i don’t know, what’s this all about?”

His words confirm my suspicion, and my stomach twists. He’s talking about another real person—someone who, like me, was brought into this world.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say quickly, deflecting as best I can.

The merchant raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. “Whatever you say.” The merchant turns back to the caravan, dismissing me with a wave. “We’re done here, archer. Focus on the job.”

I fall back slightly, my mind racing. If there was someone else like me here… where are they now? Did they escape? Or are they trapped, just like I am?

For an NPC, they sure made him rude, I think to myself, falling back in line near the rear of the caravan. The wagons creak as they roll over the uneven road, the sound blending with the low hum of chatter among the workers and guards.

I keep my hood low, my gaze focused on the dirt path ahead, but my thoughts keep drifting back to what the merchant said.

The voice stirs again, its tone amused. “Oh, Artemis,” it says mockingly. “Did he hurt your feelings? Maybe I should sing that song now to cheer you up.”

“Just be quiet,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head.

“I do find it quite interesting,” it says smoothly, its tone dripping with amusement. “With how much effort you’re putting into ignoring me, you still chose the mission where you’re doing… well, essentially nothing. It’s almost like you want to make it harder to ignore me.”

I take a slow, deep breath, trying not to give it the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh, come now,” it continues, its tone mocking but playful. “Walking alongside a caravan, guarding a few crates of trinkets… riveting, isn’t it? You could’ve picked something with a bit more… action. But no, here you are, giving me all this lovely downtime to chat.”

“I didn’t choose this for you,” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible over the creaking of the wagons.

“Didn’t you?” the voice replies, its laughter soft but sharp. “If you really wanted to avoid me, you’d have taken the bandits or the mystery quest. Something dangerous. Something to occupy your mind completely. But this? Oh, Artemis, this is practically an invitation.”

I grip the strap of my quiver tightly, my knuckles turning white. “You’re exhausting,” I whisper, my tone low but seething.

“And yet, here I am,” the voice says with a sigh, its amusement undiminished. “A constant companion. Like it or not.”

I close my eyes briefly, focusing on the sounds around me—the wheels, the chatter, the faint rustle of the wind in the trees. Anything but the voice.

“And with you abandoning the only friends you’ve had in years,” it continues, its tone soft and mocking, “I’m the only friend you have now.”

I stumble slightly at the voice’s words, my chest tightening.

My fists clench at my sides as I quicken my pace, hoping the movement will drown out the voice. “You’re not my friend,” I mutter under my breath, the words harsh and bitter.

“Oh, but I am,” it says smoothly, its tone dripping with feigned sincerity. “I’m always here, always listening, always understanding. Unlike your so-called friends, who you left behind without so much as a proper goodbye.”

My jaw tightens, anger and guilt swirling in my chest. “I left to protect them,” I hiss quietly. “You know that.”

“Of course, of course,” the voice replies, its tone almost soothing now. “You left to keep them safe. But you didn’t really think about how they’d feel, did you? How they’d worry about their ‘fearless leader’ running off into the unknown.”

I grit my teeth, forcing my gaze forward as the caravan continues down the road. The wagons creak, the guards chatter, and yet all I can hear is the voice, relentless and intrusive.

“Face it, Artemis,” it whispers. “I’m all you’ve got now.”

I glance around the caravan, half-hoping for something—anything—to attack, just to drown out the incessant voice. But for now, the road remains quiet. The guards at the rear chat idly, oblivious to the storm raging in my head.

The voice, however, doesn’t stop.

“The old guy at the church said it himself,” it murmurs, almost casually. “I can’t control you fully unless you let me. So, really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I grit my teeth, gripping the strap of my quiver tightly. “Nothing to worry about?” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible. “You’ve already tried to move my body without my permission.”

The voice chuckles softly, like it finds my frustration amusing. “True,” it says, its tone light. “But think about it—did I actually do anything harmful? No. If anything, I’m showing restraint. You should be thanking me.”

My stomach twists, and I glance around again, hoping for something to distract me. But the road remains uneventful, the caravan moving steadily toward its destination.

“Besides,” the voice continues, its tone almost soothing now, “if I really wanted to take control, don’t you think I’d have done it by now? But I haven’t. Because, Artemis, we’re in this together. Like I said before—partners.”

I shake my head sharply, trying to shove it away. “You’re not my partner,” I whisper harshly. “You’re a parasite.”

The voice hums softly, unfazed by my words. “Call me what you like,” it says. “But I’m not going anywhere. So, you might as well get used to me.”

I clench my fists, my chest tightening as I push forward, trying to ignore the voice’s presence.

The voice starts singing, mockingly cheerful. “Just the two of us…” it hums, dragging out the tune obnoxiously. “Dun dun dun dun dun dun dunnn…”

I press my palms into my temples, muttering under my breath. “Oh, for gods’ sake, stop!”

It laughs, the sound curling through my thoughts like smoke. “What? Don’t like my singing? I thought we were bonding.”

“We’re not bonding,” I hiss, quickening my pace as if walking faster will somehow outpace its presence in my mind.

“Sure we are,” the voice replies smoothly. “You and me, stuck together on this grand adventure. Just the two of us—”

“If you finish that line, I swear—”

The voice chuckles, cutting me off. “Fine, fine. No need to be so testy. But admit it, Artemis—you’d be bored without me.”

I glare at the ground, my fists clenching. “I think I’d manage just fine.”

“Would you, though?” it says, its tone teasing. “Face it—this caravan mission? Dull as dirt. You’d be counting rocks on the side of the road if it weren’t for me keeping things interesting.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to take a deep breath. “You’re exhausting,” I mutter, trying to focus on the creak of the wagons and the faint rustle of the wind through the trees.

The voice hums again, softly this time, as if to prove a point. “Just the two of us…”

I shake my head, deciding to focus on something, anything, other than the voice. Quickening my pace, I approach one of the drivers sitting at the front of the second wagon.

“How far are we?” I ask, my tone more clipped than I intended.

The driver, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and tired eyes, glances back at me. “Eldenwarren’s about a day’s journey from here,” he says, his voice gruff. “We’ll probably make camp in a few hours, then push through the rest of the way tomorrow morning.”

I nod, stepping back slightly to let him focus on steering the wagon. “Thanks,” I say simply, though my chest tightens at the thought of spending the night out here.

The voice hums softly in the back of my mind. “Oh, a campout,” it says cheerfully. “How cozy. Just you, a bunch of strangers, and me. Doesn’t that sound delightful?”

I stumble slightly, the voice’s words twisting in my mind like a storm cloud.

“What if we just get rid of them and take all the stuff for ourselves?” it says, its tone light but laced with something darker.

I shake my head sharply, muttering under my breath. “That’s not how it works. This is a game.”

“Is it really, though?” the voice replies, its tone turning smooth, almost amused. “Maybe you’re just crazy. Stuck in your room, in your chair. Lost in some endless delusion.”

I grit my teeth, trying to drown it out, but its words dig deeper.

“Games aren’t supposed to be so realistic,” it continues, the amusement in its tone growing. “So in-depth. You shouldn’t be able to feel this much. You shouldn’t be able to interact with everything. If this is real, that means we can do whatever we want…”

Its words trail off, leaving a heavy silence in my mind. My fists clench as my chest tightens, my breath catching in my throat. “You’re wrong,” I whisper harshly. “This isn’t real. It can’t be.”

“Can’t it?” the voice whispers back, almost taunting now. “Think about it, Artemis. What if the rules you think you’re following… don’t exist?”

The voice’s laughter echoes through my mind, curling around my thoughts like smoke. “I’m in your head,” it says smoothly, its tone light but invasive. “I know your thoughts. I might as well be your conscience.” It chuckles, the sound low and mocking.

“You yourself have thought endlessly about how realistic it is,” it continues, its words slithering into my deepest doubts. “Who’s to say it’s not… real?”

I take a deep breath, my nails digging into my palms as I try to push the voice aside. “Just because it feels real doesn’t mean it is,” I whisper harshly, keeping my voice low so the others can’t hear. “It’s a game. It has to be.”

“Has to be?” the voice replies, almost pitying now. “That’s not very convincing, Artemis. Games are supposed to be predictable, fun. But this? Look at how you’ve been how you are—tired, bleeding, breaking. Does that sound like a game to you?”

I shake my head, my heart pounding in my chest. “It doesn’t matter what you say,” I mutter. “I’m going to figure this out. I’ll find a way to end this.”

The voice chuckles again, softer this time. “Oh, Artemis,” it whispers, its tone almost tender. “You keep trying to fight me, but deep down, you’re starting to wonder, aren’t you? What if… I’m right?”

“You’re part of it,” I think at the voice, my teeth clenched. “You already know it’s a game.”

The voice hums softly, its presence curling deeper into my thoughts like smoke. “Am I, though?” it says smoothly, its tone dripping with amusement. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself of that?”

“You’re part of the code,” I whisper under my breath, barely audible over the creak of the wagons. “Something left behind by whatever shadow that was.”

It chuckles, low and mocking. “Maybe,” it says, its tone almost teasing. “Or maybe I’m something more. Maybe this ‘game’ isn’t a game at all. Maybe you’re not a player, Artemis—just another piece on the board.”

I shake my head fiercely, refusing to let its words sink in. “You’re trying to mess with me,” I hiss. “But I know what this is. I know what you are.”

“Do you?” the voice replies, its tone soft and almost pitying. “You seem so sure, but your doubts are… delicious. Keep telling yourself it’s just a game, Artemis. Let’s see how long that holds up.”

“It doesn’t matter what it is,” I mutter under my breath, my hands clenched tightly. “Even if it somehow isn’t a game, that doesn’t change anything. I’m still trapped in a world—and a body—that isn’t my own.”

The voice is silent for a moment, almost like it’s considering my words. Then it chuckles softly, the sound curling through my mind.

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere,” it says, its tone almost gentle. “Trapped, out of place, lost… That’s the truth of it, isn’t it? This world isn’t yours. This body isn’t yours. But here you are, stuck all the same.”

I grit my teeth, my chest tightening as I push forward, refusing to let it get to me.

“Doesn’t that make it worse, though?” it continues, its voice soft and almost soothing. “If this isn’t a game… then who are you, Artemis? What are you? And if it is a game… why do you feel so much like you in this body?”

“I don’t care,” I hiss, shaking my head. “I don’t care what it is. All I care about is finding a way out—of this world, of this body, of all of it.”

The voice laughs softly, its tone almost pitying. “And if there isn’t a way out?” it whispers. “What then?”

My steps falter for a moment, but I force myself to keep moving. “Then I’ll figure it out,” I say firmly, more to myself than to the voice. “I’ll adapt. I’ll survive. I’ve already made it this far.”

I feel my steps falter as the voice speaks its tone mocking but calm. “For someone who so adamantly has denied being a girl,” it says smoothly, “you sure seem willing to live as one.”

My fists clench, and I let out a sharp breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I mutter, barely loud enough to hear over the creaking of the wagons.

The voice chuckles softly, its presence curling deeper into my mind. “You’ve been… adjusting, haven’t you? Surviving. Adapting. Just like you said you would.” It pauses, its tone shifting to something almost playful. “But isn’t it interesting how easily you’ve slipped into this role? The way you move, the way you think… even the way you interact with your friends.”

My chest tightens, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “I’m doing what I have to do,” I hiss. “That doesn’t mean I’ve accepted this.”

“Doesn’t it?” the voice replies, its tone dripping with amusement. “You wear the clothes. You respond to the name. You lead them, protect them… as Artemis. Not Alex. Not whoever you were before. Her.”

I shake my head sharply, forcing myself to keep walking. “I don’t have a choice,” I snap. “This is survival. That’s all it is.”

The voice hums thoughtfully, as if unconvinced. “Keep telling yourself that,” it murmurs. “But sooner or later, you’ll have to ask yourself: is this who you are now? Or is this who you’ve always been, deep down?”

Its words linger in my mind like a shadow, but I shove them aside, refusing to let them take root. “You don’t know me,” I say firmly. “And you never will.”

The voice’s laughter echoes in my mind, sharp and mocking. “You even got yourself a boy toy,” it says, cackling loudly.

I feel my face flush, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling to the surface. “Shut up,” I hiss under my breath, my hands balling into fists.

“Oh, come on,” it says, its tone dripping with amusement. “Don’t pretend it isn’t true. That last kiss back at the inn? The way he looks at you? You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

I grit my teeth, my chest tightening as I quicken my pace. “It’s not like that,” I snap, keeping my voice low.

“Isn’t it?” the voice replies, feigning innocence. “You seemed pretty eager to kiss him back. Not very ‘guy in a girl’s body’ of you, is it?”

I shake my head fiercely, refusing to let the voice’s words get to me. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I say firmly. “It was… complicated.”

“Complicated,” the voice echoes, laughing softly. “Oh, Artemis, denial looks good on you. But you can’t lie to me—I’m in your head, remember? I know exactly how you felt.”

“Shut up!” I snap, louder this time. A few of the caravan workers glance my way, but I quickly lower my head, pretending to focus on the ground.

The voice chuckles again, its presence lingering like a shadow. “You can fight it all you want,” it says, its tone softening slightly. “But sooner or later, you’ll have to admit the truth… to yourself, if nothing else.”

“That’s not how it was,” I snap, my voice trembling as I stop mid-step. “The game… the game did something. It’s messing with me.”

The voice hums softly, almost like it’s enjoying my frustration. “Oh, so now it’s the game’s fault?” it says, mockingly sweet. “The game made you feel that way? How convenient.”

I clench my fists, my chest tightening as the words keep coming, sharp and cutting.

“So you admit it, though,” it continues, its tone teasing but insistent. “You’ve thought about it. About him. You’ve replayed it in your mind, haven’t you?”

I shake my head, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “It’s not like that!” I shout under my breath, though the crack in my voice betrays my uncertainty.

“But it is, isn’t it?” the voice says smoothly, its tone softening, almost coaxing. “You can lie to everyone else, Artemis. But you can’t lie to me. You love him, don’t you?”

I feel a lump rise in my throat, and my chest feels like it’s being crushed. “I don’t… I don’t know,” I whisper, barely audible.

The voice chuckles softly, its presence curling deeper into my mind. “There it is,” it says, almost tender now. “The truth, peeking through all your denial.”

My legs feel weak, but I force myself to keep moving, my mind racing. Is it true? Do I…?

“No,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling. “It’s the game. It’s all the game.”

The voice hums again, quiet but ever-present. “Keep telling yourself that,” it whispers.

“He certainly knows how he feels about you,” it says softly, as if planting a seed. “Imagine how he is right now… frantically searching for you.”

My chest tightens, and I feel my breath hitch as the words sink in. My pace slows as the mental image plays out in my mind—Lorien pacing, worried, trying to find some trace of me. The thought twists my stomach, filling me with guilt and… something else I can’t quite name.

“You left without saying goodbye,” the voice continues, its tone both mocking and gentle. “Do you think he’s angry? Or just… heartbroken?”

I clench my fists, shaking my head fiercely. “Stop,” I whisper harshly, my voice trembling. “I did what I had to do. I didn’t want to put him—or any of them—in danger.”

“And yet, you did,” it murmurs. “You left him. You left them. But I wonder… was it really for their sake? Or were you running from what you’re feeling?”

My throat feels tight, and my vision blurs slightly as I try to steady my breathing. I wasn’t running, I think to myself, though the words feel hollow.

“Oh, Artemis,” the voice says, almost tender now. “You’re a mess, aren’t you? But it’s okay. You’ll figure it out… eventually. Maybe when you see him again.”

I freeze mid-step, my fists clenching tightly at my sides.

“I don’t blame how you feel, Artemis,” the voice says, its tone dripping with mock sympathy. “You’re a young woman now, full of hormones, right? Why wouldn’t you want to shack up with such a nice, handsome guy?”

“Shut up,” I hiss under my breath, my face heating despite myself. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger and embarrassment swirling together in a storm I can’t seem to control.

The voice laughs, a sound that feels like it’s wrapping around my very thoughts. “Oh, come now,” it says smoothly. “It’s natural, isn’t it? To want someone like him. Strong, kind, devoted to you…”

My jaw tightens as I force my feet to keep moving, though every step feels heavier than the last. “It’s not like that,” I mutter, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

“Complicated,” the voice echoes, feigning understanding. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But the truth is, Artemis, you want him. You think about him, don’t you? The way he looks at you, the way he held you…”

“Enough!” I snap, my voice louder than I intended. A few heads from the caravan turn briefly in my direction, but I quickly lower my gaze, pretending to adjust my cloak.

The voice chuckles softly, its presence lingering like a shadow. “Deny it all you want,” it whispers. “But I know the truth. And so do you.”

I clench my fists tighter, my nails digging into my palms as I try to shove the voice aside. Focus on the mission, I tell myself. Don’t let it get to you.

I stumble forward as something hard slams into my back, knocking the air from my lungs. Instinctively, I spin around, drawing my bow in one fluid motion, the tension in the string steady despite the ache now radiating through my shoulder blades.

Behind me, a rough-looking man steps out from the tree line, holding a slingshot in one hand and a wicked grin on his face. “Well, well,” he drawls, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Looks like we found ourselves some free stuff.”

More figures emerge from the shadows of the forest, each armed with crude weapons—clubs, daggers, and rusted swords. Their armor is patchwork at best, but their sheer numbers make my heart skip a beat.

“Bandits,” the lead merchant shouts from the front of the caravan. “Get ready!”

The guards draw their weapons, positioning themselves near the wagons. The merchants scramble for cover, their panicked shouts filling the air.

The voice hums softly in the back of my mind, its tone laced with amusement. “Well, this should be fun,” it says smoothly. “What’s the plan, Artemis? Are you going to lead your little team to victory?”

I shake my head, focusing on the immediate threat. I notch an arrow, aiming at the nearest bandit, as my mind races.

I release the arrow, but before it can hit, the bandit lunges forward, his hand striking my bow with surprising speed. The impact jars my grip, sending the arrow flying off wildly into the woods, useless.

“Nice try,” he sneers, gripping the slingshot tighter as he steps closer. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart.”

I grit my teeth, stumbling back a step to regain my footing, my heart pounding in my chest. The others are shouting behind me, the guards clashing with the bandits who’ve already started swarming the caravan. The merchants’ terrified cries mix with the clang of steel, and I realize the fight has already begun.

The voice hums in the back of my mind, calm and mocking. “That was sloppy,” it says, its tone dripping with fake disappointment. “Need some help, leader?”

I ignore it, jerking my bow back into position as the bandit raises a sword aiming directly at me.

I don’t waste time trying to grab my bow. Instead, I grip an arrow from my quiver and lunge forward as he approaches me blade in hand, it drive it into the man’s side with as much force as I can muster.

He grunts, staggering back slightly, but his laughter follows almost immediately, sharp and mocking. “This is who they sent to protect all my new stuff?” he sneers, gripping the arrow and yanking it out with a grimace before tossing it to the ground.

I narrow my eyes, the adrenaline coursing through me drowning out the fear. Without missing a beat, I plant my foot against his chest and shove hard, sending him stumbling backward.

He stumbles but recovers quickly, his grin widening. “Feisty,” he says, flexing his fingers as if warming up. “I like that. Let’s see what else you’ve got.”

Behind me, I hear the clash of weapons and the cries of the merchants. The guards are holding their own, but more bandits are emerging from the trees, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.

The voice hums in my mind again, soft and amused. “You’re going to need more than feisty to win this one,” it whispers. “But I’m here to help... if you’re ready to ask.”

My eyes dart to where my bow landed when he knocked it from me, but it’s far, too far to risk going for it now. The man in front of me moves with a strength and speed that feels unnatural, his every step radiating confidence as he closes in.

I glance around quickly, spotting a sword lying nearby, it must’ve been dropped by a guard or a bandit. Without hesitation, I dive into a roll, grabbing the hilt as I come up into a crouch, the blade heavy but balanced enough to wield.

The man chuckles, his grin widening as he watches me lift the weapon. “That’s more like it,” he says, cracking his neck as he readies himself. “Come on, sweetheart. Show me what you’ve got.”

I tighten my grip on the sword, every muscle in my body tensed as I shift into a defensive stance. My mind races, analyzing his movements as he steps forward, his posture relaxed but predatory.

“Careful,” the voice whispers in the back of my mind, its tone almost amused. “He’s not just toying with you, he’s testing you. Don’t disappoint him now.”

I ignore it, focusing on the man in front of me. He lunges, his movements quick and deliberate, and I barely manage to bring the sword up in time to block. The impact jars my arms, the sheer force behind his attack sending me stumbling back.

I steady myself quickly, readjusting my grip as I circle him, looking for an opening.

“Tsk, tsk,” the voice hums, its tone dripping with mock pity. “How unlucky to be an archer in this situation. Any of the others would fare so much better here.”

I grit my teeth, my grip on the sword tightening as I circle the man. My heart pounds in my chest, but the voice doesn’t let up.

“Hrothgar would’ve easily overpowered this thief,” it says smoothly, its tone almost smug. “Lorien? He’d have seen them coming a mile away and led the charge swiftly. Veyron? Oh, he’d already have a dagger in this guy’s back by now. Even Kaida,” it sneers, “would have used her ensnaring roots to lock them all in place and let the guards handle the dirty work. But you?”

The man lunges again, forcing me to bring up the sword to block. The impact rattles my arms, sending a sharp ache through my shoulders as I stumble back once more.

“You can barely hold on to a sword,” the voice continues, its laughter sharp and grating. “Pathetic, isn’t it? The fearless leader, struggling to even stand her ground.”

“Shut up!” I hiss under my breath, steadying myself as I readjust my grip on the blade.

The man smirks, clearly enjoying the struggle as he stalks toward me again, his movements calculated and deliberate. “Losing your nerve already?” he taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Come on, archer. Show me what you’re made of.”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to block out the voice and the taunts as I focus on his movements. I have to find an opening something to turn the tide.

I take a shaky breath, shifting my weight onto the balls of my feet. I can’t keep blocking, he’s too strong. Every impact rattles my arms, and it’s only a matter of time before he overpowers me completely.

I watch his movements carefully, the way his muscles tense before each strike, the slight shift in his stance. If I can avoid his strikes and wait for an opening, I might stand a chance.

The man smirks, clearly enjoying my hesitation. “What’s the matter?” he taunts, his voice dripping with mockery. “Afraid to fight back?”

I don’t respond. Instead, I adjust my grip on the sword, readying myself. He lunges, swinging his blade with brutal force, but I sidestep just in time, the rush of air from his swing brushing past me.

His momentum leaves him slightly off-balance, and I seize the opportunity. I pivot, bringing the sword around in a quick arc and aiming for his exposed side.

The blade connects, not deeply, but enough to draw blood. The man grunts, stumbling back a step, and his grin falters for the first time.

“Not bad,” he says, his tone more serious now. “Maybe you’re not as useless as you look.”

The voice hums in my mind, amused. “Well, that’s an improvement,” it says smoothly. “Still, I wonder how long you can keep this up before you tire out.”

I ignore it, keeping my focus on the man as he readjusts his stance, his grin returning with a sharp edge. He seems more cautious now, his eyes narrowing as he sizes me up.

He swings his blade with a vicious arc, and I dodge, ducking just in time before thrusting again but it was a trap. His free hand shoots out like a viper, gripping my wrist with an iron strength that feels impossibly real.

Before I can react, he lifts me clean off the ground, the sheer force making my body go rigid in shock

“What a noob,” he sneers, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

The words sting almost as much as what comes next. With a powerful heave, he throws me like a ragdoll. My back slams into a tree with a sickening thud, the bark digging into my skin as the impact knocks the air from my lungs.

I crumple to the ground, gasping, my body screaming in pain. But my mind is racing even faster, his words echoing in my head. What a noob.

The way he said it... the tone, the phrasing it wasn’t like an NPC. No, That’s a real person, I think, the realization hitting me as hard as the tree. It has to be. There’s no way they programmed an enemy to say something like that.

The voice in my mind chuckles, clearly delighted by the turn of events. “Well, well, it purrs. Looks like you’ve met someone interesting. What do you think? Friend or foe? I’m betting on foe.”

I force myself to my feet, my legs trembling as I grip the sword tightly. My vision swims slightly from the impact, but I steady myself, my gaze locking onto the man.

You’re a real person, aren’t you? I say, my voice shaky as I steady myself against the tree, the sword still gripped tightly in my hand.

He pauses for just a moment, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before he smirks. “Obviously,” he says, almost incredulous.

Then he tilts his head, his grin turning sharper. “You didn’t even know I was a person? Rookie mistake.”

Before I can process what he said, he rushes me, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

I barely have time to react, raising the sword defensively as he swings. His strength is overwhelming, the force of his attack sending vibrations up my arms as I struggle to hold my ground.

The voice hums softly in my mind, almost amused. “A real person,” it says, its tone thoughtful. “How fascinating. Maybe you should ask him what he knows... if you survive.”

I grit my teeth, my legs straining as I push back against his blade. My mind races. A real person. He’s like me. But why is he attacking me?

“Who are you?” I shout, trying to hold him off. “Why are you doing this?”

He laughs, his grin widening as he presses harder against my blade. “What does it look like? I’m playing the game,” he says, his voice casual despite the intensity of his attack. “And right now, you’re in my way.”

The weight of his words sinks in as I struggle against his blade. He’s playing the game, he said. But he’s not trapped like me.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut. He’s still in the real world, sitting comfortably at his desk or on his couch, controlling this avatar while I’m here, stuck in this world, fighting for my life.

The voice in my mind hums, its tone almost delighted. “Oh, now this is interesting,” it whispers. “He’s not like you. He’s playing the game while you are the game.”

My grip on the sword tightens, anger and frustration boiling in my chest. “You’re playing,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my voice low but trembling with fury. “But I’m not. This isn’t a game for me. I’m stuck here.”

The man smirks, clearly amused by my words. “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively. “Everyone’s got their little roleplay thing going on. You’re stuck, I’m the bad guy, blah, blah, blah. Let’s just fight, alright? I’ve got loot to claim.”

His blade presses harder against mine, and I feel my legs buckle slightly from the strain. My mind races, the unfairness of it all crashing down on me. He doesn’t even realize what this means for me.

“You think this is a joke?” I shout, my voice cracking as I push back against him. “This isn’t roleplay. If I lose here, I die for real.”

For a brief moment, his smirk falters, confusion flickering across his face. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a look of dismissal. “Sure you do,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Real immersive, huh?”

The voice in my mind chuckles darkly. “He doesn’t believe you,” it whispers. “Why would he? To him, you’re just another player. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“This isn’t just a game!” I shout, narrowly dodging his blade as it slices through the air where I’d been standing moments ago. My breathing is ragged, my heart pounding in my chest, but I push through the panic.

“There’s something wrong with it,” I continue, my voice filled with urgency as I backpedal. “That whole marketing gimmick about the game being super realistic? That’s because it is!”

The man hesitates for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. I use the moment to catch my breath, the sword feeling heavier in my hand with each passing second.

“What are you even talking about?” he asks, his tone half-dismissive, half-curious.

I tighten my grip on the sword, my voice trembling as I speak. “Me and others—we’re not just playing. We’re trapped here. Our minds, our bodies, everything. This isn’t a game for us. If we die here... we die for real.”

He stares at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s some next-level ‘immersion’ you’ve got going on,” he says, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that?”

I grit my teeth, anger flaring in my chest. “Why would I lie about this?” I shout, sidestepping another swing of his blade. “Do you think I want to be stuck here? To fight for my life while you sit comfortably in the real world, treating this like it’s all some joke?”

The man’s words hit me like a slap. “How dumb do you expect me to be?” he sneers, his voice cold and mocking.

Before I can react, his blade plunges into my side. Pain explodes through me, sharp and searing, stealing the breath from my lungs. My knees buckle, and I collapse to the ground, clutching at the wound as warm blood seeps between my fingers.

I try to speak, to shout, to do anything—but my body won’t respond. My vision swims, my limbs feel heavy, and the edges of the world begin to blur.

Then, I feel it. A cold, creeping sensation spreading through me, like icy tendrils wrapping around my mind.

“Finally,” the voice says, its tone dripping with dark satisfaction.

I gasp silently as my body moves on its own. My fingers loosen from the wound, and my legs push me upright as if the pain doesn’t exist. My head tilts slightly, and I feel a twisted grin spread across my face—but it isn’t mine.

“Your turn’s over, Artemis,” the voice purrs, my voice no longer under my control. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

The man stares at me, confusion flickering across his face as he sees the change. “What the hell...?” he mutters, stepping back slightly, his blade still slick with my blood.

End of chapter 13-14

Artemis is trapped with the shadow in her it’s finally confirmed other people are here or at least playing the game.
Can Artemis regain control? Will she ever return to her friends? Find out next time!