Kade woke with a jolt.
The sky was gone—replaced by canvas. Faded fabric, patched and weathered, stretched above him like a tent ceiling. Dim firelight flickered along the edges, casting orange shadows. Somewhere nearby, wind rustled through grass and armor clinked faintly.
For a second, he forgot where he was.
Then the pain hit.
His ribs ached. His shoulder throbbed. Every inch of him screamed like he'd been flattened by a truck. Oh wait—he had been crushed. By a zombie wolf. Right.
Groaning, Kade rolled onto his side, hissing through clenched teeth.
"First things first," he muttered, reaching into the air.
Nothing happened.
Then—click.
A faint shimmer. His personal system menu flickered into view, glitchy and translucent. At the bottom corner, still glowing:
[Save game]
He jabbed at it with his index finger.
[Are you sure?]
>Yes/no
A brief flicker. Then he clicked yes
>Yes
[Game saved]
"Hell yeah," Kade whispered. "No dying without insurance."
He slumped back, exhaling hard. The motion hurt. His body creaked like a rusted gate.
Slowly, painfully, he stretched out his limbs. A few stiff pops. Everything still worked. Sort of.
"Bones intact," he mumbled. "Mostly."
His stomach growled.
Loudly.
"…Right. That too."
He sat up carefully, blinking away the dizziness. His pajamas were still stained, torn, and ridiculous. He looked like someone who lost a bet and a war. A blanket had been tossed over him. A small wooden plate rested by his side—half a biscuit and a strip of dried meat.
Kade blinked at it like it might vanish.
Then he lunged, grabbed the biscuit, and bit in. It was dry, gritty, and tasted like it was made of ground brick.
"Gods, that's awful," he mumbled through a full mouth.
And kept eating anyway.
He was halfway through the dried meat—tough, chewy, slightly gamey—when the flap of the tent shifted.
Kade froze, biting down awkwardly.
In stepped Mira.
She ducked beneath the canvas flap with practiced ease, her glowing blue rune dim under the daylight filtering through the seams. Her cloak was dusted with cold ash and road grime, and her gloves were off, tucked into her belt. She looked tired—but sharp.
Kade blinked at her, still chewing.
She raised an eyebrow. "You're awake."
He gave a small nod, swallowed hard. "Apparently."
She stepped further inside, arms crossed, stopping just short of the firepit. Her eyes flicked to the half-eaten ration in his hands. "Hungry?"
"Starving," he said. "Could eat a whole beast. Probably did, actually. Not sure what this is."
Mira let out a faint, amused huff. "Snowback jerky. Not the worst, if you don't chew long enough to taste it."
"Yeah. I noticed."
He took another bite.
She watched him for a moment. Not speaking. Just… watching.
Kade shifted. "So… am I your prisoner? Patient? Mascot?"
Mira didn't smile, but her head tilted. "You're a mystery. But you're not chained, if that's what you're asking."
He glanced at the tent flap. "Could I walk out?"
"You could try," she said mildly. "But your ribs might complain. Also, Velra would deck you."
"…Noted."
She moved to crouch near the embers, pulling a small kettle from her satchel and setting it over the fire. A faint flicker of blue magic swirled around her fingers.
Kade watched in silence for a moment, then asked, "Is that… actual magic?"
Mira looked up. "What else would it be?"
He gave a half-laugh, still sore. "I dunno. Particle effects? VFX shaders? Enchant-script overlays?"
"…None of those are words."
"Exactly."
She stared at him a second longer, then simply said, "You're strange."
He pointed a jerky strip at her. "And you glow when you talk."
"I'm a mage."
"Well," Kade said, flopping back onto the bedroll with a groan, "either I'm hallucinating, or I woke up in the coolest fever dream of my life."
Mira poured hot water into a small tin and set it near him. "More like a nightmare. But at least you're still alive."
"Thanks to you guys." He hesitated. "So… what now?"
"That depends," she said. "When you're done eating, Velra wants answers."
Kade sighed.
"I figured."
Before Kade could wipe the last of the dried meat crumbs from his fingers, the tent flap rustled again. This time, the figure that entered moved with a quiet precision—no wasted motion, no hesitation.
She was tall and lean, her presence smooth but alert, like someone used to slipping through danger rather than charging at it. Her travel leathers were a muted brown, worn at the edges, layered over flexible chain. A fur-lined cloak clung to her shoulders, damp at the hem. A short sword hung low on her hip, balanced—not for show, but for quick reach. Her auburn hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her eyes—piercing green—swept the room in an instant, noting everything.
Kade felt like he'd been scanned, catalogued, and shelved in half a second.
"Good. You're awake," she said, her tone light but measured, with a practiced ease.
"We don't usually find people with no aura readings," Velra said, almost to herself. "Not alive, anyway."
Velra's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him.
Kade's stomach twisted, but he forced himself to keep chewing.
No aura.
That meant one of two things in MythOnline.
You were either dead—literally, walking corpse territory—or you were hiding something. Something dangerous.
Like those late-game rogue builds, he thought.
Players who maxed out stealth trees, learned forbidden techniques, and masked their presence from even the best detection spells. They were ghosts in the system—rare, expensive, powerful. Almost nobody pulled it off without artifacts, exploits, or dying a hundred times trying.
And yet here he was.
No aura.
No magic.
No idea how he was hiding it—or if he even was.
He swallowed slowly, pretending he hadn't just connected about fifteen red flags in one sentence.
"…Guess I'm just built different?" he offered weakly.
Velra didn't laugh.
She didn't even blink.
They didn't press him.
Not yet.
Mira poured another tin of hot water and handed it over in silence. Velra leaned against one of the tent poles, arms crossed, patient but alert. Neither of them moved much—just watching. Waiting.
Kade chewed slower, more aware of their eyes now. The last bite of jerky scraped down his throat like bark. He drained the warm water in three long gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
Then he sat up, groaning as his ribs reminded him who was in charge.
"Alright," he muttered, brushing crumbs from his chest. "You've both been civil. I've been fed. No one's stabbed me yet."
He glanced between them, lifting his eyebrows.
"So. What do you want to know?"
Velra didn't smile, but there was a flicker of interest behind her eyes—like a spark finally catching.
"Let's start simple," she said. "Name. Origin. Purpose. And how the hell you survived alone in this god forsaken place"
Kade let out a short breath.
"Right," he said. "The easy stuff."
He sat back.
And started thinking very, very carefully about what not to say.