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 struggles with what to do while she relives moments of her past and future?

Update fixed naming for a character.

Chapter 14 Recap.

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.

Chapter 15

My body lunges forward with unnatural speed, the sword in my hand swinging in a brutal, precise arc. The man barely manages to dodge, his smug grin replaced by genuine alarm.

“How... what are you?” he stammers, his confidence cracking as I press the attack.

The voice chuckles darkly, its laughter echoing in my mind. “Oh, don’t worry,” it says, controlling my words. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

What the hell? I think, panic surging through me as I struggle to regain control. You aren’t supposed to be able to control me fully without me letting you!

The voice laughs, dark and smooth, like oil dripping into my mind. “Oh, but I can,” it responds, its tone laced with satisfaction. “Under the right circumstances... like after a killing blow. You expect a random priest to know everything?”

Before I can process its words, a shadow tendril bursts from under my sleeve, whipping through the air with unnatural speed. It strikes the man square in the chest, sending him flying backward with a grunt. He crashes to the ground, skidding across the dirt, his weapon clattering away.

“What the...?” he gasps, coughing as he scrambles to his feet, his face twisted in shock and fear. “What the hell are you?!”

I can feel the grin spreading across my face again—not mine, but the voice’s, controlling me like a puppet.

“You wanted a fight,” it says through my mouth, its tone calm yet menacing. “So, let’s fight.”

I scream internally, trying to wrestle back control as my body moves on its own, stepping toward the man with an eerie precision. The tendril writhes and flickers like a living thing, coiling back under my sleeve as I raise the sword.

The man stumbles backward, his eyes wide with fear as he tries to create distance between us. I can see the panic etched across his face—he’s no longer a confident fighter but someone realizing they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.

But it’s not me he’s facing anymore.

My hand, still gripping the sword, is suddenly engulfed by another shadowy tendril. It surges forward, the blade glinting as it moves with unnatural speed and precision.

“No, stop!” I scream internally, but the voice doesn’t listen.

The sword plunges into the man’s chest, the force of the strike knocking him off his feet. He collapses to the ground, gasping as the light in his eyes fades. His body glows faintly for a moment before disintegrating into shimmering particles, leaving only his gear and a faint scorch mark on the ground.

I feel the weight of what just happened crash down on me, but I’m still frozen, unable to speak, unable to move of my own accord.

The voice hums softly, almost satisfied. “There,” it says. “Problem solved. You’re welcome.”

My chest tightens, fury and horror swirling inside me. You killed him! I think, my mind screaming against the suffocating control. You killed him!

“Correction,” the voice says smoothly, its tone laced with mock amusement. “We killed him. Besides, wasn’t he going to kill you first? I simply leveled the playing field.”

My body finally moves on its own—my own—as the tendrils retreat, and I collapse to my knees, gasping for breath. My hands tremble as I look at the ground where the man once stood, his items scattered in a pile.

“Calm down,” the voice says, its tone dripping with irritation. “It’s not like he was trapped too. He’ll just respawn, probably annoyed but no worse for wear.”

I clench my fists, the trembling in my hands growing worse as I stare at the empty spot where the man had stood moments ago.

“That doesn’t make it right!” I shout in my thoughts, my chest tight and my breathing uneven. You used me. You took control and murdered him like it was nothing.

“Murder?” the voice scoffs, feigning disbelief. “Oh, please. You think that was murder? He attacked you, Artemis. He stabbed you. If anything, I just... expedited justice.”

I shake my head fiercely, trying to block out its words, but they seep into my thoughts like poison.

“This is how the game works,” it continues, its tone softening slightly, as if trying to reason with me. “Players fight, they die, they respawn. It’s a loop. You’re upset because you’re thinking like a person in your world, not a player. But that’s not what this world demands.”

I glance at the scattered items on the ground, my stomach churning. My hands are shaking so much I can barely keep them still. “I didn’t want this,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling.

The voice sighs, almost like it’s tired of my resistance. “What you want doesn’t matter anymore,” it says coldly. “You’re in this world now. And in this world, survival comes first. Remember that. You’ll need to do much worse.”

I push the voice aside, focusing on the immediate danger. My hands shake as I grab my bow, the familiar weight grounding me even as fear and anger twist in my chest.

I turn to face the other thieves, who are frozen in shock, their eyes darting between me and the spot where their leader had been moments ago. Their confidence is wavering, cracks forming in the tough facade they’d worn so easily before.

“Anyone else?” I shout, my voice steadier than I expected, though my heart pounds in my chest.

The thieves exchange uneasy glances, their weapons lowered slightly. One of them, a small wiry man with a jagged knife, steps back cautiously. “What the hell are you?” he mutters, his voice shaking.

The voice hums in the back of my mind, pleased. “See? They’re scared of you now. That’s power, Artemis. That’s how you survive.”

I swallow hard, ignoring it as I nock an arrow, aiming it toward the group. My arms ache, and my side still throbs from where their leader stabbed me, but I refuse to show weakness.

“You’ve already lost,” I say, my voice firm. “Leave now, and you might walk away from this.”

One by one, the thieves start backing away, their fear outweighing their greed. The wiry man mutters something under his breath, and then, without another word, they turn and retreat into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.

The tension in my chest doesn’t ease as they leave. I lower my bow slowly, my hands trembling.

“You handled that well,” the voice says, almost smug. “Though I think we both know they wouldn’t have run if it weren’t for me.”

I grit my teeth, pushing the voice aside as I look back at the scattered items left behind by the player. My stomach churns as I approach them, the weight of what just happened pressing down on me.

I didn’t kill him, I think to myself, trying to push back the guilt that claws at my chest. For him, it was just a game. He’ll respawn. He’s fine.

My hand trembles slightly as I reach out, grabbing the gold and adding it to the meager pile in my pouch. The weight of the coins feels heavier than it should, the clinking sound echoing in my ears like a reminder of what just happened. Their isn’t much and the way they were obtained isn’t how I’d wanted but every bit helps.

The voice hums softly, its tone almost approving. “Smart choice,” it says. “Survival comes first, Artemis. You’ll see that soon enough.”

I straighten up, taking a deep breath as I glance back toward the forest. The thieves are long gone, and the caravan behind me is stirring, the merchants cautiously peeking out from their hiding spots.

“Are... are they gone?” one of the drivers asks, his voice trembling.

I nod, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “They’re gone.”

The merchants start to gather themselves, checking their supplies and muttering amongst themselves. My grip tightens on my bow as I turn away, my thoughts swirling.

I didn’t kill him, I remind myself again. It wasn’t me. But no matter how many times I repeat it, the weight in my chest refuses to lift.

Attacking monsters before—it was simple, straightforward. They were threats, obstacles to overcome. It felt fine, even natural, in this twisted world. But this...

Someone who looked human, who was human—not just an NPC enemy mindlessly following its programming, but a real person, playing the game from the safety of the real world. Even if he did respawn, even if he’s back to playing right now, it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

And what’s worse...

The shadow.

It took control of me. Used my body like I was a puppet, my thoughts and will shoved aside like they didn’t matter. It’s not just a part of me—it’s waiting, watching, ready to take over again the moment I’m vulnerable. The thought sends a chill down my spine.

The voice stirs again, as if it can feel my unease. “Oh, don’t look so shaken, Artemis,” it says smoothly. “You should be thanking me. I saved you. Without me, you’d be dead right now.”

I grip my bow tightly, my knuckles turning white. Saved me? You used me! You’re no better than that guy—actually way worse!

The voice chuckles, dark and soft. “Call it what you want. But you’re still breathing, aren’t you? You still have your precious ‘mission.’ And maybe, just maybe, you learned something about yourself.”

I close my eyes, taking a shaky breath. The caravan behind me is starting to regroup, the merchants and guards sorting through their scattered supplies.

“If I hadn’t taken control, you’d be nothing but a bloody puddle right now,” it says, its tone teetering between irritation and smugness.

I feel my jaw clench as it continues, unrelenting. “You don’t respawn, remember? You don’t get another chance. You’re lucky I was here.”

I grip my bow tighter, my knuckles aching as anger bubbles up in my chest. Lucky? I think, my teeth grinding. You call taking over my body and murdering someone ‘lucky’?

“Lucky I’m still in control!” I snap out loud, the words escaping before I can stop them. A few of the merchants glance my way, startled by the outburst, but I don’t care. My heart pounds, the weight of the situation pressing down on me harder than ever.

“You didn’t save me,” I whisper harshly under my breath, my voice trembling. “You used me. I could have figured something out, but you didn’t even give me the chance.”

The voice chuckles darkly, its amusement sending chills through me. “Oh, please,” it says, almost lazily. “You were flailing, Artemis. Panicking. That man had already stabbed you, and you were seconds away from bleeding out. You needed me.”

I shake my head fiercely, refusing to let it take hold of the narrative. “I didn’t need you,” I hiss. “I—I don’t need you.”

The voice hums, thoughtful now. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” it murmurs. “This world is full of dangers, Artemis. And whether you like it or not, I’m here to keep you alive. Even if it means doing things you can’t.”

Its words hang in the air, heavy and unshakable, as I force myself to take a steadying breath.

I let the voice’s words swirl in the back of my mind like a storm I can’t seem to quiet, but I don’t respond. Instead, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other as the caravan resumes its journey.

The merchants whisper amongst themselves, their voices a dull hum that barely registers in my ears. The guards keep a wary eye on the treeline, but the world around me feels distant, muted.

I try to dissociate from it all—the tension in the air, the sting of my wound, the weight of the bow in my hand. Even the shadows of the trees seem to stretch endlessly, swallowing the path ahead.

This isn’t real, I tell myself. It’s just a game.

But the small ache in my side says otherwise. The weight of the gold in my pouch feels too real. The memory of the man—the look of fear on his face before he disappeared—plays on a loop in my head.

The voice hums softly, its presence lingering like a shadow. “You’re quiet,” it says, almost teasing. “Avoiding the truth doesn’t make it go away, you know.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, forcing the voice further into the background. I don’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not yet.

The creak of the wagons and the crunch of dirt underfoot become my focus, a rhythm to keep me grounded as I drift further into my thoughts.

The image of the thieves retreating flashes in my mind—their wide eyes, the way they scrambled to escape like I was something out of a nightmare.

Were they players too? I wonder, my thoughts swirling. Or just NPCs, following their player leader like mindless henchmen?

Either way, it didn’t matter in the moment. The fear they showed was all too real, as if they weren’t just fleeing an opponent, but a monster.

Is that what I looked like to them? I think, my chest tightening. One of the monsters we’ve been running from and fighting since we got here?

The thought sends a chill down my spine. They didn’t see a scared archer struggling to hold her own. They saw… something else. Something terrifying.

The voice hums softly, almost like it’s pleased. “They saw power,” it murmurs, its tone laced with satisfaction. “And they ran. Isn’t that what you wanted? To survive?”

I grit my teeth, my fists clenching as I keep walking. Not like that, I think bitterly. Not by becoming something they feared more than death.

The caravan trudges forward, the faint sounds of the merchants and guards barely registering as I wrestle with my thoughts. I keep replaying the fight—the way the shadow tendril lashed out, the way the voice had taken over.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. If they saw me as a monster… is that what I’m becoming?

The voice slithers into my thoughts again, smooth and insistent. “Don’t you want this power?” it whispers, its tone both tempting and calculating. “Don’t you see how I can help you? With me, you might actually have a chance at escaping this world.”

I feel my chest tighten, my steps faltering for a moment. The voice presses on, relentless. “You could save your friends,” it continues. “Even find Lyra.”

I clench my fists, trying to steady my breathing. “I don’t trust you,” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible.

The voice chuckles, low and dark. “You don’t have to trust me,” it says simply. “But you need me, Artemis. You’ve seen it for yourself—this world isn’t fair. It’s brutal. Without me, you’re just a scared girl with a bow.”

Its words hit like a punch to the gut, and I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to shove the doubt away.

“And what about them?” the voice continues, its tone softening slightly. “Your friends, the ones you left behind. They’re still counting on you, even if they don’t know it yet. Do you really think you can protect them… without me?”

The caravan continues to trudge forward, oblivious to the war waging in my mind. My grip on the bow tightens as the voice’s words echo, each one digging deeper.

The caravan leader’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Alright, everyone!” he shouts, his tone gruff but firm. “We’ve reached the camp location for the night. Get yourselves settled. We’re back on the road at first light!”

The wagons creak to a halt, the merchants and guards already moving to unload supplies and set up their makeshift shelters. The sounds of muted conversation and the clatter of crates fill the air as the caravan shifts into its evening routine.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as the tension in my chest refuses to ease. At least the day’s over, I think, though the unease inside me remains.

The voice hums softly, almost like it’s enjoying my discomfort. “A chance to rest,” it murmurs. “How nice for you. Though, I wonder… do you really feel safe enough to sleep?”

I glance around the campsite, the guards keeping watch near the perimeter, the merchants huddled together around small fires. Despite the relative calm, the voice’s words gnaw at me.

I sit down by one of the campfires, the warmth doing little to ease the cold knot of unease in my chest. Around me, the merchants and guards chat quietly, their faces weary but relieved to be off the road for the night.

Instinctively, I reach for my cloak, intending to pull it tighter against the night air—only to find nothing there. I freeze, the realization hitting me like a wave.

It must’ve fallen off during the fight.

The voice chimes in, its tone smug and amused. “Guess you’ll have to steal one again,” it says, clearly delighted by my frustration.

I grit my teeth, refusing to respond as I glance around the camp. Most of the merchants and guards are preoccupied, tending to their fires or unloading supplies.

I wrap my arms around myself, the chill seeping in as I try to figure out what to do. I could ask someone for a spare, but the thought of explaining why I don’t have my own feels like too much right now.

The voice hums softly, its presence lingering. “You’re not going to let something as simple as a missing cloak stop you, are you?”

I roll my eyes, keeping my thoughts guarded. The less I engage with it, the better.

I glance at the others gathered around the fire, their faces lit by the flickering flames. They seem so… normal. Laughing softly, complaining about the journey, trading stories about the dangers of the road.

But as I watch them, a cold realization settles in my chest. They aren’t real.

Even with all these people around me, I’ve never felt more alone since I got trapped here. These merchants, these guards—they’re just programmed to do what they’re doing. Laugh, complain, eat, sleep. It’s all part of the script.

None of it’s real.

The weight of the thought presses down on me, heavy and suffocating. It’s like being surrounded by ghosts—shadows of people who look alive but aren’t. And the only other real person I’ve seen today… I killed him. Or, the shadow controlling me did.

The voice stirs in the back of my mind, its tone almost sympathetic. “Lonely, are we?” it whispers, its words cutting through my thoughts. “Well, I’m here. I’m mostly real. Isn’t that enough?”

“You’re just an unwanted hitchhiker,” I mutter under my breath, my voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

The voice laughs, low and dark, its tone laced with mock amusement. “Oh, Artemis,” it says, almost pitying. “Is that any way to talk to the one thing keeping you alive? Hitchhiker or not, you’d be nothing without me.”

I clench my fists, glaring into the fire. “I was fine before you came along,” I whisper harshly. “I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

It chuckles again, but there’s an edge to it this time—an almost predatory undertone. “Keep telling yourself that,” it says. “But we both know the truth. Without me, you’d be dead in that dungeon, bleeding out on the floor you think Kaida saved you? She didn’t it was simply the bond being created and once it was all that was left to heal was minor. And you’d be dead again today, skewered by that player who didn’t even see you as a threat.”

My chest tightens, the weight of its words settling heavily. “I didn’t ask for your help,” I snap back, my voice trembling.

“No,” it says smoothly. “You didn’t. But that’s the thing about life Artemis. Sometimes, you don’t get to choose who or what keeps you alive.”

The firelight flickers across my face, and I take a shaky breath, the tension in my chest threatening to overwhelm me.

I let out a slow, shaky breath and close my eyes, leaning slightly against my knees. The fire crackles softly nearby, and the quiet murmur of the merchants and guards fades into the background.

I just need sleep, I think, my mind racing despite my best efforts to quiet it. Just for a little while. Maybe things will make more sense tomorrow.

The voice hums softly, its presence lingering. “Sleep, then,” it murmurs, almost like a lullaby. “Rest while you can. I’ll be here, always.”

I try to block it out, forcing myself to focus on the warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of my breathing. But its words echo in my mind, the unease they bring making it harder to let go.

As my body starts to relax, I drift toward sleep, though the weight in my chest refuses to ease.

Suddenly, the warmth of the fire is gone, replaced by a cold, suffocating darkness. My eyes dart around, but there’s nothing—just the same void as before.

The voice cuts through the silence, smooth and taunting. “Do you remember, Artemis?” it asks, its tone mocking yet oddly intimate. “Your life before this… back when you were Alex?”

My chest tightens as the sound of a bell echoes through the void, sharp and distant at first, then louder and closer. The darkness shifts, blurring into faint shapes and colors until I’m standing in front of a familiar metal locker.

No… I think, my breath catching in my throat. It can’t be.

The hallway stretches endlessly in both directions, filled with the muted hum of chatter and the sound of footsteps. The smell of cheap cleaning supplies and old books lingers in the air. I run my fingers over the cold, chipped paint of the locker door, the number etched into the metal burned into my memory.

High school. I’m back in high school.

The voice chuckles softly, almost fondly. “Ah, yes,” it says. “Alex… the quiet kid. Always fading into the background, always trying to stay out of sight. Tell me, Artemis… do you miss it?”

I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I open the locker door. Inside, I see my old textbooks, a crumpled hoodie, and a worn notebook filled with scribbles and half-finished sketches.

The voice slithers through my mind, its tone dripping with mock sympathy. “This was the day, wasn’t it, Artemis? Or should I say… Alex, for now?”

I freeze, my hand still resting on the edge of the locker door. The voice presses on, relentless.

“The day your friends abandoned you,” it continues, its words slicing through me like a blade. “The day they let you take all the blame for that stupid prank—the one you didn’t even want to do.”

My breath hitches as the memory comes rushing back, sharp and vivid. The alarm ringing, the chaos in the hallways, the principal’s stern glare.

“They graduated,” the voice whispers, almost mockingly gentle. “Moved on, left you behind. And what about you, Alex? You were held back, stuck here, and they never said another word to you.”

I grip the edge of the locker tightly, my knuckles turning white. “Stop,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, but I do,” the voice says, its laughter low and cruel. “You still carry it, don’t you? That anger, that hurt. You don’t even miss them… but you miss what it felt like to have someone. Anyone.”

The hallway around me seems to twist, the colors bleeding together. I can hear distant laughter, voices that feel both familiar and alien.

The voice’s question hangs in the air, sharp and cutting. “What was it that you did that was so bad to get held back a whole year, Alex?”

I clench my fists, the hallway spinning slightly as the memory pulls me in deeper.

I can hear the bell ringing again, louder this time, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoes around me. My younger self walks down the hall, the weight of dread heavy in every step. The teachers are already searching for someone to blame, and I know what’s coming.

The voice presses on, relentless. “A harmless little prank, wasn’t it? Your friends thought it would be funny to set off the fire alarm and flood the principal’s office.”

My breathing quickens as I see it all unfold again. The fire alarm blaring, the water spilling out from under the office door. Laughter from across the hall—laughter that wasn’t mine.

“And when the principal demanded to know who was responsible,” the voice continues, its tone mocking, “they all pointed to you. Quiet, dependable Alex. The perfect scapegoat.”

The hallway warps, and suddenly I’m sitting in the teacher’s lounge, my heart pounding as the principal glares at me. My friends faces flash in my mind—smiling, laughing as they walked out of the building, free of any consequences.

“They got to graduate,” the voice whispers. “They got to leave. But you? You were stuck here, alone, humiliated, a failure.”

I grip the sides of my head, the voice’s words cutting deeper with every second. “Shut up,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

“Why?” the voice asks, its tone soft and venomous. “You can’t ignore it, Alex. This moment defined you. It’s why you kept everyone at arm’s length after that. Why you were so easy to trap in this world. You were already running away.”

My chest tightens, the air around me feeling heavy.

The voice’s words claw at my mind, dragging up memories I’ve tried to bury.

“Isn’t that why, even when you finally got to college, you never even tried to find any friends?” it taunts, the mockery dripping from its tone. “You didn’t even try to tell the truth back then, did you? You thought if you just took the blame, they’d make it up to you. But they didn’t. They left you. And there you were… alone.”

The scene shifts, twisting from the high school hallway to my bedroom. It’s the same gray, suffocating space I remember—just a desk, a bed, and the faint sound of my parents talking quietly downstairs, their voices always careful, always avoiding me.

“And even your parents,” the voice continues, its tone softening, dripping with mock pity. “They didn’t want you around anymore, did they? A whole year of silence. Straight to school, straight to your room. No dinner conversations, no outings—just waiting for the day they could send you off to college. Anywhere but there.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry as the image of my mother flashes in my mind—her strained smile, her clipped tone when she told me, “College will be good for you, Alex. A fresh start.”

“You weren’t wanted there,” the voice whispers, almost gently now, like it’s trying to console me. “And you aren’t wanted here. Not really. Even your friends in this world—they rely on you because they have to. But when it’s over, they’ll leave too. Just like everyone else. That’s what you’re thinking right?”

I clutch my head, my breathing ragged as the words sink in. “Shut up,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

But the voice doesn’t stop. “You’re alone, Artemis,” it says. “You’ve always been alone. And deep down, you think you deserve it.”

The voice shifts suddenly, its tone softer, almost tender. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, Artemis…” it whispers.

I freeze as I feel it—a hand on my shoulder, firm and cold. My breath catches in my throat, my body stiffening as a chill runs down my spine.

“I’m here,” it says, the words dripping with a strange, twisted warmth.

I glance over my shoulder hesitantly, my heart pounding. In the darkness behind me, I see the faint outline of a figure, its features obscured but unmistakably human. Its hand remains on my shoulder, unnaturally still, its touch both grounding and suffocating.

“Let me help you,” it continues, its voice echoing like a faint melody in my mind. “You don’t have to fight anymore. You don’t have to run. Just let me take the pain away.”

My hands tremble as I try to pull away, but the figure’s grip tightens slightly, holding me in place.

“You’ve been alone for so long,” it says, its tone almost gentle now, as if it’s trying to soothe me. “Haven’t you suffered enough?”

The darkness around me feels heavier, pressing in from all sides. The figure’s presence grows stronger, more solid, as if it’s taking shape.

The figure’s voice drips with temptation, its hand still resting on my shoulder. “We can work together,” it says, its tone smooth and persuasive. “We could rule this world, Artemis. Real or not, it doesn’t matter. Everyone would finally be forced to do what you want.”

Its words seep into my mind like poison, each one tugging at the insecurities I’ve buried deep.

“You could have anyone you want,” it continues, its voice softening like it’s sharing a secret. “As a friend… or as your servant. No one would abandon you again. No one would laugh behind your back. You’d never feel powerless, never feel alone.”

I clench my fists, my heart pounding in my chest. “That’s not what I want,” I whisper, my voice shaky but resolute.

“Isn’t it?” the figure says, leaning closer. I can’t see its face, but I can feel its presence looming over me. “Don’t lie to yourself, Artemis. You’ve always wanted control, respect. To finally matter. And with me… you can have it all.”

Its hand tightens slightly on my shoulder, a reminder of its grip on me—both physical and metaphorical.

“Think about it,” it says, its voice low and compelling. “No more struggling to survive. No more fear of being abandoned. You’d be unstoppable.”

My chest tightens as the words swirl in my mind, the weight of its offer pressing down on me.

“I can show you,” the figure says, its voice soft yet commanding. Before I can respond, the darkness around me ripples, twisting and shifting like smoke caught in a breeze.

The suffocating void fades, replaced by something vivid and surreal. I’m standing in a throne room—grand and imposing, with towering columns that seem to stretch endlessly into the sky. The floor gleams beneath my feet, reflecting the soft, golden glow of chandeliers hanging above.

At the far end of the room sits a throne—massive, carved from dark obsidian, with veins of glowing red light pulsing through it like a heartbeat. The air hums with power, and at the center of it all is… me.

No, not me—her. Artemis. The figure sitting on the throne is a version of me I barely recognize. Dressed in elegant, commanding armor, her golden hair cascades down her shoulders like a crown. Her green eyes burn with confidence, her posture radiating authority.

Around her kneel figures—some human, some monstrous—all bowing in reverence. The sight makes my stomach twist.

“This is what we could have,” the voice says, echoing around me as if the walls themselves are speaking. “Power. Control. No one would dare cross us. No one would dare leave us.”

The version of me on the throne raises a hand, and the crowd kneeling before her shifts. Familiar faces rise to the front—Kaida, Lorien, Hrothgar, Veyron. They look different—their gazes fixed on me with unwavering loyalty.

“And your friends?” the voice continues, its tone almost soothing. “They would never abandon you again. They would be by your side, forever loyal, forever yours.”

I take a shaky step back, my heart pounding as I try to process the scene before me. “This… this isn’t real,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“Not yet,” the voice responds smoothly. “But it could be. All it takes is letting go. Let me guide you, Artemis. Together, we can make this world ours.”

The vision pulses with energy, the throne and the kneeling figures glowing brighter, almost pulling me in.

“I don’t want this, to rule. I don’t want my friends to fear me,” I say, my voice trembling. “I don’t want them to be slaves.”

The voice chuckles softly, its tone smooth and reassuring. “Then they don’t have to be,” it says.

The world around me shifts again, the throne room dissolving into warm light. The oppressive hum of power fades, replaced by the sound of laughter.

I blink, and suddenly I’m in a peaceful meadow. The sun shines brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over the rolling hills and wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. In the distance, a small cottage sits by a sparkling stream, smoke curling lazily from its chimney.

My friends are there—Kaida, Lorien, Hrothgar, Veyron—even Lyra. They’re sitting together, laughing, sharing stories. The tension and worry that had plagued their faces before is gone, replaced with genuine joy and peace.

I watch as Lorien glances my way, smiling warmly. Kaida waves, her red hair catching the sunlight, while Veyron leans back against a tree, smirking as he teases Hrothgar about something. Lyra hums softly, plucking petals from a flower.

“They’re safe,” the voice whispers, its tone soft and almost kind. “They’re happy. With you. Always.”

I step forward, my chest tightening as I take in the scene. It feels… perfect. Too perfect.

“They don’t fear you,” the voice continues, its words flowing like honey. “They love you. They trust you. And you’ve given them peace, Artemis. Isn’t this what you want? A world where no one has to suffer?”

The warmth of the meadow washes over me, the laughter and light wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

I step forward, drawn in by everything—the warmth of the sunlight, the laughter of my friends, the peace I’ve longed for since being trapped in this world.

As I move closer, Lyra stands, her soft smile radiating kindness. “Artemis, we’ve been waiting for you,” she says, her voice light and melodic.

She reaches out, taking my hand in hers, and smiles warmly. “Thanks again for finding me, Artemis,” she says softly. “You’re my hero.”

My chest tightens, the words hitting me deeply. “Of course,” I say, my voice steady but full of emotion. “You’re my friend. Friends don’t leave each other. No matter what.”

Lyra’s smile widens, and she squeezes my hand gently before stepping back toward the others. I turn to face them, my heart swelling as I take in their faces—Kaida’s playful smirk, Hrothgar’s hearty laugh, Veyron’s teasing grin.

And then there’s Lorien.

Before I can say anything, he steps forward, his eyes locking onto mine. His hands are firm but gentle as they move to my waist, and before I can even react, he pulls me in, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that feels both tender and overwhelming.

For a moment, everything else fades away—the laughter, the sunlight, even the voice in the back of my mind. It’s just me and him, the warmth of the meadow wrapping around us like a soft blanket.

When he finally pulls back, he smiles, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

The scene feels perfect, like everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of me. But deep down, a small voice—my voice—whispers something else.

This isn’t real… is it?

My cheeks flush, a warmth spreading across my face that I can’t hide, especially with everyone watching.

Kaida smirks knowingly, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed. “Well, that was… something,” she teases, her tone light but laced with amusement.

Hrothgar lets out a hearty laugh, clapping his hands together. “About time!” he says loudly, his grin wide. “We’ve all been waiting for you two to figure that out!”

Veyron rolls his eyes dramatically, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ugh, could you at least warn us next time?” he says, pretending to look disgusted. “Some of us have delicate sensibilities, you know.”

Lyra giggles, her hands clasped together as she looks between me and Lorien with bright eyes. “You two are so sweet,” she says softly. “It’s like something out of a fairytale.”

I glance down, my heart pounding as I try to find the right words. “I, uh…” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lorien chuckles, his hand still resting lightly on my waist. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, his voice low and comforting. “You deserve this, Artemis. We all do.”

The warmth of their laughter and smiles surrounds me, pulling me deeper into the moment. But somewhere beneath it all, there’s still that faint, nagging feeling.

I can feel my eyes start to well up, the overwhelming emotions bubbling to the surface. Lorien notices instantly, his expression softening with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently, his hand brushing against my cheek.

I shake my head quickly, trying to hold back the tears. “Nothing,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Nothing is wrong. For the first time… everything is perfect.”

His worried look melts into a warm, radiant smile. “Good,” he says softly, and before I can say another word, he leans in, kissing me again.

The world around us seems to blur, the laughter of our friends fading into the background.

For a moment, I let myself sink into it, the weight of my struggles lifting as if they were never there. The meadow, the sunlight, the people I care about—all of it feels perfect, like a dream I don’t want to wake from.

But deep down, that small voice in the back of my mind whispers again, faint but persistent. This isn’t real… is it?

Veyron’s voice breaks through the moment, loud and carefree. “Come on, let’s eat! I’m starving!” he shouts, already making his way toward the small cottage.

The others laugh, following him inside as the warm light from the windows spills out onto the meadow. Lorien takes my hand, his grip gentle but steady, and we walk together toward the door.

Everything feels… perfect. For the first time since I woke up in this world, there’s no fear, no tension, no weight dragging me down. We’re all safe in this meadow. I’m with Lorien. And Lyra…

I glance toward her, smiling as she walks ahead of us, chatting with Kaida. But as I watch her, a cold realization creeps into my mind.

How is she back?

The memory feels hazy, distant, like trying to recall a dream. We lost her. She disappeared. We didn’t find her. Did we?

My chest tightens as the realization settles in, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. This isn’t right. This isn’t real.

Lorien notices my hesitation, glancing at me with a warm, concerned smile. “You okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

I nod quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” I say, though my voice shakes slightly. “I’m fine.”

We step into the cottage, the smell of freshly baked bread and warm stew filling the air. The table is set, the food steaming and inviting, and everyone takes their seats, laughing and chatting as if everything is perfectly normal.

But the thought lingers, heavy in my mind. How is Lyra here? How did we get here?

I step back from the table, my chest tightening as the questions bubble to the surface. “Where am I?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the cozy space—the warm glow of the fire, the laughter of my friends, the smell of fresh stew.

But it feels… wrong. Like a picture-perfect painting, too flawless to be real.

“What’s happening?” I ask aloud this time, my voice trembling.

The laughter around the table falters as everyone turns to look at me. Kaida tilts her head, a small frown creasing her brow. “Artemis? Are you okay?”

Lorien reaches for my hand, his expression soft with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks gently.

I pull my hand back, shaking my head as the unease grows. “This isn’t right,” I say, my voice louder now. “How are we here? How is Lyra here?”

Lyra looks up at me, her smile fading slightly. “What do you mean?” she asks softly, her voice full of innocence. “I’m right here, Artemis. You found me, remember?”

But I don’t remember. My head feels foggy, like trying to piece together fragments of a shattered mirror. The last thing I clearly remember is… the fight in the dungeon. The shadow.

I stagger back, gripping the edge of a chair for support as my breathing quickens. “This isn’t real,” I say, my voice shaking. “None of this is real.”

The warmth in the room seems to dim slightly, the edges of the cottage blurring like smoke.

“Artemis, stop,” Lorien says, his tone pleading. “We’re safe. You don’t have to fight anymore. Just… stay here with us.”

“No, this isn’t real,” I say, my voice trembling but firm. “Something is wrong.”

I back out through the door, the warmth and light of the cottage starting to fade. As soon as I step outside, everything vanishes, and suddenly I’m falling—plummeting into the dark void again.

The world around me shifts violently, the colors and shapes of the dream crumbling away like ashes. The comforting laughter of my friends, the warmth of Lorien’s touch—it all disappears, replaced by the cold, suffocating darkness.

And then it hits me.

The shadow. The voice. The mission. I’m dreaming.

The pieces fall into place like shards of glass reassembling into a mirror. The mission, the fight, the shadow invading my mind—everything that’s happened. This perfect life was just another trick, another way for the voice to worm its way into me.

I clench my fists, the cold air whipping around me as I fall deeper into the void. “I know what this is!” I shout, my voice echoing endlessly. “You’re trying to manipulate me! This isn’t real!”

The voice chuckles, its tone deep and taunting. “Smart girl,” it says, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “But you can’t escape me, Artemis. You don’t need to try and run from me. This is your world now. And soon enough… you’ll see that I’m right.”

The void twists, and faint shapes begin to form in the darkness—familiar faces, distorted and wrong. Lorien’s warm smile shifts into something cold and menacing. Lyra’s eyes glow with an eerie light. The others appear, their forms flickering like broken images.

“Why fight it?” the voice whispers, soft and tempting. “You could have everything you’ve ever wanted. You could finally belong.”

The distorted figures step closer, their voices echoing with the shadow’s whispers. My heart pounds as I try to focus, to steady my mind.

“It wasn’t real,” I say firmly, my voice echoing through the void.

The shadow chuckles softly, its tone deceptively warm. “But it could be,” it whispers, its words curling around me like smoke. “Together, we can find Lyra. Return to your friends. Be a family.”

The distorted images of my friends linger in the darkness, their faces flickering between warm smiles and shadowed non existent faces.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Artemis?” the voice continues, its tone gentle, almost pleading now. “We can make it a reality. I don’t need to control you. I don’t want to control you. Together, we can do anything.”

The void around me feels heavier, the pull of its words digging into my chest. For a moment, I hesitate, the weight of everything overwhelming. Could it really be that simple? Could I really fix all of this if I just… gave in?

But deep down, a small part of me refuses to accept it. I clench my fists, my voice trembling as I speak. “You don’t want to help me,” I say. “You just want me to give up.”

The shadow’s laughter grows louder, harsher. “Is that what you think?” it sneers. “Artemis, I don’t need you to give up. I need you to see. To understand the power we could have together. The things we could do.”

The images of my friends step closer, their distorted faces becoming clearer. Lorien reaches out, his expression soft and full of care. “Please, Artemis,” he says, his voice layered with the shadow’s whispers. “We need you. We need the shadow. We can all be happy. Let it help us.”

I take a step back, my breath catching in my throat. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “This isn’t real. This isn’t right.”

The voice sighs, its tone shifting back to one of frustration. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“You really want to help?” I ask, my voice trembling. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t trust it, but the desperation in my chest forces the question out.

“Yes, Artemis,” the voice replies, its tone soft, almost comforting. “I’m a part of you now. We are one. Your pain, your doubts, your memories, your strength—they’re mine, too. I want to help you.”

I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, torn between hope and suspicion. “Just… just tell me,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “What are you?”

The silence stretches for a moment, the void around me pulsing faintly with the rhythm of the voice’s presence.

“I am what remains,” it says finally, its tone distant, contemplative. “A fragment of something greater, something ancient… long gone. When you destroyed—the shadow a final piece of me… lingered. And now, I’ve taken root in you.”

I swallow hard, the weight of its words pressing down on me. “So you really are part of that shadow in the dungeon.”

“Yes,” it admits, its voice steady, almost calm. “But I am more than that now. More than I was made. You’ve given me form, purpose. You’ve made me something new.”

I stare into the void, the faint flickering images of my friends still lingering in the corners of my vision. “And what do you really want?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Why are you doing this?”

It hesitates, its tone softening even more. “I want what you want, Artemis,” it says. “To survive to thrive. To protect those you care about. But to do that, we need, each other.”

The faint warmth in its words almost feels genuine, the doubt I feel is still there but…

“Okay,” I whisper, the word barely leaving my lips. My heart pounds in my chest as the decision settles in. “Let’s do it.”

The void around me pulses, the cold, suffocating darkness giving way to something else. Slowly, the blackness is consumed by a vibrant, blinding white.

The light is warm, almost comforting, and it feels like it’s wrapping around me, pulling me into something new. The voice speaks again, softer now, almost… proud.

“Good,” it says, its tone filled with satisfaction. “You won’t regret this, Artemis. Together, we’ll make everything right.”

I feel a strange surge of energy, like a current flowing through my veins. It’s overwhelming, yet invigorating, and for a moment, it feels like I’m floating.

The light grows brighter, and as it does, the world around me begins to form. Shapes and colors take shape—a light purple grassy field, rolling hills, a distant forest.

“Artemis,” the voice whispers. “This, is only the beginning.”

I look down at my hands, the faint glow from the light still clinging to my skin. The energy inside me hums softly, steady and strong.

Then the bright light returns blinding me. And in the back of my mind, a question lingers. What have I just agreed to?

End of chapter 15

Artemis has agreed to work with the shadow but what will this truly entail? The only other player we’ve seen has now been killed and could be anywhere and Artemis is alone with the shad-ow.