The morning light had that soft, golden haze to it—the kind that usually made the world feel like it had hit pause for a moment. Like maybe, just maybe, everything had calmed down long enough to let you catch your breath.
But I wasn’t breathing easy.
I stood outside the inn, arms folded tight across my chest, boots planted on the dusty road like I was trying to anchor myself to something solid. The town stretched out in front of me, quiet and half-asleep, its rooftops soaking up the sunlight like they hadn’t noticed the world had almost come apart the night before.
My eyes were open, but what I saw was the forest. The shimmer of that purple portal, twinkling like a dying star. The way reality had twisted and flickered, stuttering like a broken machine trying to run a program it was never meant to. And Hollow—gaunt, fractured, his eyes empty and endless—staring at me like I was already a cautionary tale.
Yeah. New day or not, nothing about this morning felt like a fresh start.
“You won’t even notice it happening.”
“Until one day, you wake up… and you’re me.”
I’d barely slept—I just laid there, staring up at the ceiling with my thoughts spinning in a hundred directions, replaying Hollow’s voice in the silence.
And through it all, one message from the System had burned itself into the back of my mind:
[YOU ARE NOT ALONE.]
The more I thought about it, the worse it got. The more pieces I gathered, the less it felt like I was in control of any of this. Was I making choices? Or just following some invisible track laid out for me? A bug in someone else’s code, marching toward a fate I never asked for?
The inn door creaked open behind me, dragging me out of the spiral.
Calla stepped outside first, adjusting the belt on her robes with practiced ease. Her eyes found me instantly—sharp, observant, unreadable in that way only Calla could pull off. She didn’t say anything, but I could already tell she knew something was off.
A second later, Garrick shuffled out, stretching with a low grunt. His armor hung open at the chest, and his hair was doing something halfway between “rooster” and “disaster.” He blinked blearily at me, yawned, and gave me the kind of once-over that made it clear he wasn’t buying whatever expression I was wearing.
“All right,” he said, voice rough from sleep. “What’s with the face?”
I blinked. “What?”
He gestured vaguely at my head. “You look like you got flattened by a cart. And then someone circled back to make sure.”
Calla stepped in closer, studying me like I was a puzzle she didn’t like the answer to. “Felix, are you feeling alright?”
I hesitated.
A lie was already forming—something clean, simple, easy to swallow.
Didn’t sleep well.
Just needed air.
Nothing to worry about.
But just as I opened my mouth—
BAM.
The inn door slammed open behind us like someone had kicked it straight off its hinges.
I flinched and spun, already tensing—only to see Thorne storming out like she’d found someone stealing her new shield. Her hair was a mess. Her boots weren’t even fully laced. And her expression? That could’ve soured milk at thirty paces.
She jabbed a finger at me like she was naming a criminal in a lineup. “You.”
I blinked. “…Me?”
She stalked a few steps closer, squinting at me through barely-awake suspicion. “Why the hell were you sneaking out in the middle of the night?”
My stomach plummeted straight through the floor.
Behind me, I felt Calla and Garrick turn in unison, their earlier concern shifting into something far more dangerous—curiosity.
Oh.
Shit.
I barely had time to process the question before Thorne was already stomping toward me, boots slamming against the porch steps with enough force to make the whole platform groan under the weight of her fury.
Down on the street, a few early risers paused to look up—drawn by the sound, or maybe just the sheer, burning intensity radiating off her like heat from a forge.
She marched straight up, eyes locked on mine like I’d called her a goblin lover.
“What the hell did you do, Felix?!”
My heart launched into overdrive.
My first instinct?
Something had happened. Someone got hurt. Maybe Cassian had found her in the night while I was gone—maybe I’d led danger straight to our door without even knowing it.
I was already raking a hand through my hair, trying not to panic as my brain flipped through worst-case scenarios. Every muscle in my body tightened, ready to bolt or brawl.
“What do you mean?” I asked, breath catching halfway up my throat.
But Thorne didn’t slow down. She didn’t blink. And she definitely wasn’t in the mood for me to play dumb.
She jabbed a finger into my chest, full of righteous fire. “How did you gain two levels while we were all asleep?!”
The tension drained out of me so fast I nearly slid to the floor.
Okay. Not an ambush. Not Cassian. Not assassins.
Just… Thorne. Being Thorne.
I sagged back against the railing, relaxing as I dragged a hand down my face. “Holy shit. Don’t do that.”
Garrick blinked like he’d just joined the conversation mid-sentence. “Wait. You leveled up?”
Calla tilted her head slightly, arms folded, one brow arching just enough to say now this is interesting.
“Huh,” she murmured. “That’s… something.”
Thorne was still glaring at me, arms crossed like she was waiting for me to confess to tax fraud and high treason all at once.
I lifted my hands in mock surrender. “Alright, look, I can explain—”
Thorne cut me off with a snap. “Oh, you’d better.”
I paused.
Tried to think.
The truth was dangerous. Not just for me—but for them. If I told them everything, would they even believe me? Would they freak out? Bail? Decide I was a walking glitch not worth the risk?
I could lie. Dodge the question. Say something half-true and vague enough to deflect. That used to be the move—keep it close, stay invisible, don’t let anyone get too close.
But the way Thorne was looking at me now?
She stepped forward, finger pointed like a drawn dagger, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Don’t you dare try to dance around this. We share dungeons. That means we share risk. And if you’re dragging something dangerous around behind you, I will find out.”
I tensed. “It’s not that simple—”
“Make it simple,” she snapped. “Or walk away.”
Garrick shifted his weight beside her, less aggressive—but no less firm. “Look, I get it. We all have things we don’t talk about. But if you want to be part of this group, you can’t keep secrets like this.”
His eyes locked on mine, steady and quiet. “Especially not as a Shadowborn.”
That hit harder than I expected.
I clenched my jaw.
He didn’t say it like a threat. But it was a warning all the same. People didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat for my class—most assumed we were spies, thieves, saboteurs. And when we did earn trust, it came slow. With effort. With blood.
And I’d just blown a hole through that effort.
Calla folded her arms, sharp gaze flicking between us. “Come on, Felix. We’re not asking for your life story. But if there’s something big following you around, we deserve to know what we’re standing next to.”Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
The pressure built—three against one. Not hostile. Not yet. But firm. Closing in.
And me? I was cornered.
I looked down, fingers twitching at my sides. My first instinct was still to lie. To stall. To find some clever half-truth and hold the rest close.
But they weren’t giving me space. Not this time.
I let out a slow, bitter breath. “Fine.”
Their silence was instant.
I looked up. Met each of their eyes in turn. And for the first time, I said it out loud.
“I was threatened. By Cassian Valstar.”
That stopped them. Completely.
Thorne blinked. Just once. Like her brain hit a wall and needed a second to reroute.
Calla frowned. “The Enforcer?”
Garrick’s brow furrowed. “You serious?”
I nodded once. “Deadly serious.”
She didn’t blink. She just stared.
I met their eyes one by one—and didn’t flinch.
“He’s hunting me.”
No sarcasm. No smirk. No clever dodge to deflect the weight of it.
Just the truth.
And this time?
No one laughed.
They kept staring at me like I’d just announced I was secretly the Emperor’s lost heir or had tamed a dragon on the way back from breakfast. Disbelief lingered, sure—but there was something else under it now. Something quieter. Concern, maybe. Or dread.
I let out a slow breath. “Look. I don’t have all the answers. But I know this—the system marked me as an anomaly.”
Calla gave a dry, disbelieving snort. “Well I could have told you that.”
I shot her a look. “I mean officially. Cassian didn’t come after me just because he felt like it. He got a quest. A system directive. His job was to investigate me.”
That shut her up.
Even Garrick straightened a little at that, the impact of what I was saying settling on his shoulders.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low.
I looked to the ground, my hands gripping the edge of the railing until my knuckles ached.
How much could I actually tell them?
The orb. The glitched dungeons. Hollow.
It was too much. Too fast. If I dumped all of that on them right now, I wasn’t sure what would break first—their trust or my credibility.
But I had to give them something.
“I don’t know why, not really,” I said at last, and this time, it wasn’t a dodge—it was the truth. “But it’s part of why I’ve been leveling faster than normal.”
Garrick crossed his arms, studying me. “So you’ve just been grinding dungeons like your life depends on it?”
I shrugged. “Not exactly.”
Not a lie.
Just not the whole story.
I paused, glanced between them, then stepped forward a little, voice softening. “Actually… have any of you ever heard of an item that levels up?”
That got their attention.
Calla let out a short laugh. “That’s not how it works, Felix.”
Thorne tilted her head. “Artifacts don’t level. You can enchant them, maybe infuse them with additional traits, but they don’t just… level up.”
Garrick let out a low grunt. “Sounds like Fairy tale stuff.”
I nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought, too.”
Then I reached into my void bag—and pulled out the orb.
It pulsed faintly in my grip, warm and steady, a slow heartbeat of silver and violet light dancing just under the surface like trapped starlight.
I held it out. “Go ahead. Look at the item description.”
At first, no one moved.
Then curiosity won out.
Thorne leaned in first, her eyes locking onto the screen. I saw the change hit her like a wave—her usual wall of suspicion slipping just a little.
Calla’s smirk vanished.
Garrick gave a low whistle through his teeth.
There it was. Clear as day. Floating above the orb’s flickering light:
“????? — Level 21,”
Thorne frowned. “…What the hell?”
Calla rubbed her temple. “That’s… not possible. That shouldn’t be possible.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Welcome to my life.”
I nodded at the artifact. “It came from my Judgment Trial. No description. No traits. Just this weird orb. I thought it was broken. But every time I level, it levels with me. And when it levels, I get perks. Bonuses. Things that shouldn’t be happening.”
“Like what?” Garrick asked, still locked on the orb.
“More HP. Bonus XP. Resistance to fall damage. Little things. But they stack.”
Garrick ran a hand down his face. “That’s—”
“Insane,” Thorne muttered, cutting him off. She was still staring at the orb like it might bite her. Or like she was two seconds from throwing it into a river.
Calla crossed her arms, expression unreadable. “So let me get this straight. You’ve got a mystery artifact that levels up with you, gives you extra perks like a bottomless chest, and it’s the reason the system’s flagged you?”
I nodded once. “Yep.”
Silence stretched out again.
Then—
Calla burst out laughing.
“Oh, this is rich,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’ve officially lost it.”
Thorne shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense, Felix. None of this makes sense.”
Garrick let out a grunt and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Then prove it.”
I blinked. “What?”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the railing. “If your artifact really levels up when you do, then next time you gain a level—show us. If it unlocks something new right in front of us, then I’ll believe you.”
Thorne nodded. “Until then? I’m calling bullshit.”
I gritted my teeth.
I couldn’t blame them.
Honestly? I barely believed it myself most days.
But that didn’t change the truth.
And sooner or later?
They were going to see it for themselves.
I had an idea. “Alright. Fine. You want proof?”
Calla raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Ideally, yeah.”
I smirked, already pulling up my map interface. “Cool. Then pick your poison.”
Didn’t even need to scroll—my Cartographer talent had already flagged a handful of nearby resource nodes. Wild herbs. Mushrooms. Blueberries. Stuff that’d usually take hours to find unless you knew exactly where to look.
Lucky for me, I had the orb.
Perfect.
I looked up at them, something sly flickering in my eyes. “Blueberries or mushrooms?”
Thorne blinked, unimpressed. “What?”
Garrick frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Calla tilted her head. “Are you asking us to pick snacks? Because I promise you, this is not how you make me believe you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just pick one.”
Thorne, still suspicious, crossed her arms and gave me the kind of look usually reserved for con artists and unpaid debts. “Fine. Blueberries.”
“Excellent choice.” I pointed past the inn, toward the tree line. “There’s a grove about a quarter mile that way. Should be packed.”
A beat passed.
Then Garrick snorted, folding his arms. “And how exactly would you know that?”
I just shrugged, smiling. “Guess we’ll find out.”
They didn’t believe me. That much was obvious. Thorne looked two seconds away from deciding I was overdue for a face-to-face meeting with the dirt. Garrick had his trademark ‘this guy’s full of it’ expression locked and loaded. Calla studied me like I was a logic puzzle missing half the pieces.
But still… they followed.
Grumbling. Mutters. Side-eyes.
But they followed.
I led them into the woods, stepping confidently along the invisible path my map was feeding me. A faint guiding line glowed across the terrain overlay—barely visible, but enough to follow. I weaved between trees and ducked low branches like I’d walked this route a dozen times.
And then—five minutes later—we reached a small clearing.
And there they were.
Dozens of blueberry bushes, wild and full, stretching across the glade like nature’s buffet. Ripe fruit clung to every branch in clusters, a soft breeze carrying the scent through the air like a dare.
The others stopped dead.
Garrick’s eyes narrowed.
Thorne’s brow tightened.
Calla opened her mouth, then closed it again—clearly thinking better of whatever she’d been about to say.
Nobody moved.
Then Garrick finally spoke, his voice dry as old parchment. “Lucky guess.”
I just shrugged, plucking a berry and popping it into my mouth.
“Believe what you want.”
I tossed another into my mouth, chewing slow, leaning casually against a tree like this happened every day. Let them sit with it. Let them try to explain it away. I’d already shown them the artifact. I’d already risked more than I probably should’ve.
But if I was going to trust these people—even a little—I had to stop hiding behind half-truths.
I confessed more to them. “The orb’s only part of why I’m being hunted.”
I let the moment breathe.
Then I told them.
“I can see dungeons no one else can.”
Silence.
Not just quiet. The kind of stillness that hums in your ears. That fills your head with static and tension.
Then—
Thorne crossed her arms, skeptical. “Not this again.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Thorne, remember that time we ran into each other? You asked me where I went.”
Her frown deepened.
“You didn’t see the portal,” I said quietly. “Because you couldn’t.”
She didn’t reply.
Garrick glanced between us. “So you’re saying you just… find dungeons that aren’t marked? Invisible to everyone but you?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Thorne let out a sharp breath. “So what—you’re a glitch-sniffing bloodhound now? Chosen of the Chosen?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I muttered.
She didn’t even consider it. “Yeah. No.”
My jaw clenched. “Why not?”
Thorne’s arms tightened across her chest. “Because you’re a Shadowborn, Felix. If something sketchy’s going on, odds are you’re in the middle of it. And if not? You look like you are.”
I stiffened. “You think I’m cheating?”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Calla stepped in, tone softer but no less firm. “Felix, it’s just… a lot. Hidden dungeons? Self-leveling artifacts? Special treatment from the system? That’s not just bending the rules—it’s breaking them.”
Garrick nodded slowly. “Even if we believed you—and that’s a big if—it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been flagged. That means the system itself sees you as a threat. That’s bigger than Cassian.”
I looked at them.
Really looked.
I saw doubt. Frustration. Fear.
But no hatred. No disgust. No one drawing their weapon.
Not yet.
I sagged, the frustration in my chest tightening like a coiled spring. I’d expected this. Hell, I’d prepared for it.
But it still stung.
I shook my head, turning slightly. “Fine. Believe what you want.”
Thorne didn’t say anything.
Neither did Garrick.
Calla just kept watching me—quiet, sharp-eyed, unreadable.
And even though the silence that followed was heavy and awkward and full of everything left unsaid—
For the first time in a long time?
I didn’t feel entirely alone.
Even if they didn’t believe me.
At least now, someone else knew.