Morning came too quietly.
The usual rustling of the townspeople setting up their shops, children laughing in the street, even the old man who rang the market bell at dawn—gone. Liria felt like it had swallowed its own breath.
Jay stood at the inn’s porch, watching the fog slowly retreat like it had never been there at all. The memory of Lana’s scream still rang in his head. Yet when he’d asked around at daybreak, most villagers simply blinked at him, confused.
“What children?” one merchant asked, genuinely puzzled.
The data wasn’t resetting. It was being scrubbed.
Inside the inn, Jay found Lana sitting silently in the common room, eyes dull, arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t react when he approached. No one else spoke to her, as if her grief made her invisible.
That was when a small figure approached him—a boy with wild brown curls and tear-stained cheeks. He clutched something in his hand.
“You’re the innkeeper, right?” he asked, voice trembling. “She told me to give you this.”
Jay knelt. “Who?”
The boy didn’t answer. Just shoved a crumpled paper into his hand and ran.
Jay unfolded it. A child’s drawing—crude, colorful, and chilling.
A black tower, tall and crooked. A group of children floating upward, their limbs limp, connected by thin black threads. At the bottom, a single doll with a cracked face. Beside it, written in shaky letters:
“Bell won’t ring. She said don’t listen.”
“System,” Jay whispered when he was alone. “000, are you there?”
A moment of static, then a hesitant chime.
“Y-Yes, Host. I am… here. Sorry for the delay. I was updating my corruption resistance plugin—version 0.0003. Alpha. Unstable.”
Jay sighed. “Scan this drawing.”
A beat.
“Scanning… h-huh. That symbol—it matches one found in the bell tower sub-basement. But the system has no record of any bell tower sub-basement. That area is off-grid.”
Jay tucked the drawing into his pocket and grabbed his coat.
The bell tower stood crooked at the edge of the town square, its structure swallowed by overgrowth and time. No one came near it during the day, and for good reason. The stairs creaked as Jay climbed, every step echoing like a warning.
At the top, the rope hung loose, its fibers frayed and soaked in something dark. Carvings covered the wood surrounding the bell: spirals, eyes, and a set of numbers etched repeatedly—3:33, 3:33, 3:33…
Under the bell’s platform, Jay’s foot struck something hollow.
He knelt and pried up the floorboard.
Beneath it was a sigil—dark red, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
“System,” he whispered.
“Nope,” 000 said instantly. “Nope nope nope. That’s above my pay grade. That is a Class-Red Entity Marker. You touch that, and we both might get auto-flagged for deletion.”
“I already touched it,” Jay muttered.
A sudden sound cracked through the silence—a bell ringing.
Except… the bell above him didn’t move.
He turned around—and saw nothing. No ghostly figures. No phantoms.
Just dust.
But in the corner of his eye, just for a second, he saw a child’s face behind the rafters. Watching.
Back at the inn, Jay returned just as a new guest arrived.
She was tall, her steps careful, wrapped in a brown cloak with a silver clasp shaped like a crescent moon. Her eyes—one green, one gray—met his with a curious glint.
“Hello, Innkeeper,” she said softly. “I heard this town has rooms with views that show more than they should.”
Jay hesitated. “We’ve got one left.”
As she signed the logbook, Jay noticed her player name: ElyseHealer_07.
She smiled faintly, sensing his curiosity. “You don’t talk much.”
“Only when people notice the wrong things,” he said, matching her tone.
She tapped the edge of her bracelet. “Funny. This place… it wasn’t part of the patch notes. And yet… here I am.”
Jay’s instincts screamed. She wasn’t like the others. Either a high-level player with admin access, or—possibly—someone like him.
Someone real.
That night, the fog didn’t wait until midnight.
It rolled in at dusk, pressing against the windows like breath. Cold air seeped into the inn through the cracks in the wood, and the fire in the hearth dimmed, despite fresh logs.
Jay locked his door.
“System,” he whispered. “Status?”
“Corruption level: 37%,” 000 answered quietly. “Atmospheric breach ongoing. Advise caution. Strong… echo presence detected.”
Then—Jay heard footsteps.
Light. Bare.
He opened the door slowly.
A little girl stood in the hallway, face turned toward his room, motionless. She wore a nightgown, and her hair floated slightly as though submerged in water.
Jay stepped forward. “Are you—”
She vanished.
On the mirror behind her, black ash scrawled words in trembling strokes:
“THE BELL WON’T RING UNTIL THE FIRST ECHO IS FREED.”
A scream tore through the night.
Jay bolted down the hall, Elyse already ahead of him, cloak trailing.
Room 3. Aris’s room.
They burst in.
Empty.
His armor lay scattered on the floor. His inventory chest glitched, lid stuck open.
On the bed, a single white feather.
“System,” Jay whispered.
000 hesitated. Then—
“⚠️ PLAYER ID: ARIS — STATUS: ERASED FROM SYSTEM MEMORY.”
Jay turned to Elyse. “You saw this, didn’t you?”
She didn’t answer. But her eyes narrowed, and the charm on her bracelet began to glow.
Not green.
Not blue.
But red.
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