Wyn stares at Lothran, dumbfounded. “The hell does that mean?”

  “You’ll find out in time.”

  Wyn has heard some version of that statement far too many times in Eden. While she’s tried to live the adventurer’s life in Eden, every new discovery has led to more questions. Questions that nobody is willing to answer, yet perfectly happy to hint at ominously.

  She’s had enough.

  Hot rage rises through Wyn, ready to burst. She won’t take any more of this ominous hinting any longer. Lothran, and anyone else who hints at some greater plot in this world, is going to answer her questions at last.

  “No.”

  Lothran is taken aback by the power behind Wyn’s word of command. “What do you mean, no?”

  Wyn moves closer to Lothran. Despite Lothran being far taller than Wyn, she gives off a sense of danger that even Lothran can’t ignore.

  “You know something. Everyone in this world knows something and just doesn’t want to talk about it. Captain Drell, Mirana, you, even that weird merchant Blintsy. You all know something. Talk.”

  Wyn, overcome with her frustration at the constant unknowns of this world, subconsciously draws the dagger Rennick gave her. Lothran eyes it warily, stepping back to avoid the raging woman.

  “Look, I can’t tell you anything. The more you know, the greater danger you’re in.”

  “Why?!”

  Sweat drips down Lothran’s forehead as he steps back from Wyn. She steps forward, pressing him farther and farther back, never letting him gain control of their one-sided conversation.

  “It’s complicated! I… if I could tell you, I would. There is far too much at stake.”

  Wyn notices that Lothran’s eyes keep darting to Psai floating beside her. She glances at her orb companion, who despite having no neck does an excellent job of swiveling his head to avoid eye contact. She relaxes her forward march on Lothran and turns to face the orb.

  “Do you know something?”

  “An… excellent question!” Psai stammers, “I simply know that which was—”

  “Talk! Tell me what you know!”

  Psai’s voice rises in volume, reaching a fever pitch wrapped in layers of fear and uncertainty. “I CAN’T! PLEASE!”

  “You must.”

  Psai’s orb begins to glitch, his face jutting out at strange angles as his voice howls with screams of electronic pain. Wyn’s rage fades into concern. Despite hating how little the orb tells her, she’s taken a liking to the orb, and seeing him in such pain sends stabs of empathy through her heart.

  After a few moments of pained screeching, Psai completely vanishes, replaced by a floating text box.

  Unfortunately, your companion, Psai, has encountered a critical error. Please excuse the interruption while he is brought back online. We appreciate your patience.

  Wyn returns her attention to Lothran. “The hell was that?”

  Wyn stares at the floating text box, her anger bleeding out of her all at once, replaced by a hollow pit in her chest. She had wanted answers. She had pushed and pushed and demanded, certain that if she just applied enough pressure, the truth would spill out like blood from a wound.

  Instead, Psai screamed in unimaginable pain. That scream echoes in Wyn’s ears, the pain behind it well beyond that of just a machine. It felt real, like her little brother being trapped in a meat grinder.

  Her fingers tighten around the hilt of her dagger, not in anger now, but in something closer to guilt. He begged, terrified of the unknown forces in this world, only for his desperation to fall on deaf ears. And then, those same unknown powers reached down and shut him off.

  The realization settles heavily in her stomach. This place does not simply hide its secrets. It punishes those who get too close to them. For the first time since entering Eden, Wyn wonders if her curiosity is not a virtue at all, but a liability.

  She swallows, eyes still fixed on the cold, polite text floating where her friend had been.

  “Psai…” she murmurs, unsure if anyone can hear it. “I didn’t mean to…”

  The words feel useless the moment they leave her mouth. Only then does she turn back to Lothran.

  “The hell was that?”

  Searching Lothran’s eyes , Wyn finds him far less afraid than before. It doesn’t take a genius to put it together; he’s not afraid of her. He’s afraid of whatever Psai, and by extension the mysterious Progenitis Corporation, could do to him.

  “I… I don’t know,” Lothran says. “Look, you have to stop asking questions. This world is not safe for people who ask questions. Take my advice and just play the game. Forget the idiosyncrasies. Forget the mysteries of this world and just play it like a game. You’ll only get yourself hurt.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  Lothran shakes his head. “Then you are already doomed. Progenitis is not to be trifled with. If you go after their secrets, they are not afraid of making you and all your friends and family disappear.”

  “Progenitis is not some evil corporation. They just make games!”

  Lothran’s eyes fill with a flurry of emotions Wyn can’t quite place. “You have no idea.”

  “Then tell me what you know!”

  “I can’t! Don’t you understand! Please don’t let anyone else get hurt by them.”

  “You’re useless,” Wyn scoffs, turning away from Lothran. If he won’t provide anything useful, then she’s going to find answers on her own. It doesn’t matter what warnings Lothran gives; Wyn knows that between her strange secondary class, Psai entering Eden with her, and a dozen other things she’s experienced while in Eden, she’s already in far too deep to turn back now.

  And if nothing else, her curiosity won’t let her back down. Wyn wants answers, and she’ll stop at nothing to find them.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Lothran sighs with relief behind her, relieved that Wyn is no longer interrogating him. The sound brings Wyn’s frustration back in full. She whips around, holding her dagger out at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Wyn barks one final question at him.

  “What the hell is a Watcher?”

  Lothran pales, all the color draining from his face. Wyn swears that even his usually statically charged hair flattens as the heat drains from his face.

  “Don’t make me answer that…”

  “Who are they?!”

  “ I can’t—”

  “And why are they following me?!”

  Lothran freezes in place, mind racing. “They’re following you… you’ve seen one?”

  Wyn nods. “When I first joined the game, a Watcher in Black directed me to you. And then when I logged out a week ago in-game time, I saw one of them tailing me. Not sure if it was the same one or not, but whoever they are, I don’t trust them.”

  Lothran doesn’t respond for a long moment. His eyes dart around the empty void space as his mind races. Just as Wyn is about to bother him again, he finally speaks.

  “They’re following… you?”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  A chime rings out beside them, and the floating text where Psai had disappeared changes.

  Psai rebooting — thank you for your patience

  “Shit. I have little time.”

  Lothran waves his head, making the table appear once again, and frantically scribbles notes on a piece of paper.

  “The Watchers are agents from Progenitis. They see and know everything that happens. Whatever you do, don’t act like you know they’re following you. Don’t give them a reason to act. Just pretend that you know nothing. It’s safer that way.”

  “What are you—”

  Lothran shushes her. “There’s no time.” He finishes scribbling down the note and shoves it into Wyn’s palm. “Take this and go north. That wizard I mentioned up north — the spellweaving master. Give this to him, and he will help you. The only place you’re safe is in Voidspace. And when your orb friend isn’t around.”

  “Psai is a friend; he’s not dangerous!”

  “He might seem like it, but he’s not your friend. Even if he’s kind to you, he isn’t the only one looking through those eyes. Anything he sees feeds directly into Progenitis. Be careful Wyn. And don’t let anyone, even Psai, see what’s on that paper.”

  A bright light appears behind Wyn, signifying Psai’s return. Wyn quickly folds the paper and tucks into her pocket, hoping that Psai doesn’t notice.

  “My apologies, friends! It seems I encountered a critical error. Tell me, what did you two talk about while I was incapacitated?”

  Lothran gives a believable smile and gestures towards Wyn. “Ah, we were simply discussing the best ways into Ankhamel. It’s quite a tough city to find, you know.”

  Wyn nods, holding her tongue as she isn’t confident she’ll be able to lie to Psai like Lothran.

  “Well, I think it’s about time you two knuckleheads, or should I say knucklehead and knuckleorb, make your way back on your adventures.”

  Psai’s eyes narrow at Lothran as he speaks. The typically grouchy wizard, always upset to do any work, seems uncharacteristically joyful. Psai, despite his bumbling ineptitude at conversion, is suspicious of the Hall Master.

  “It’s true!” Wyn adds. “Turns out Lothran here knew a special way to access the hidden city. It’ll be very helpful when we travel up north.”

  Psai’s suspicions seem to be washed away by Wyn’s words, surprising both Wyn and Lothran. “Excellent! Shall we journey there right away?”

  Wyn considers it for a moment. “I’m not sure. We still have Elara and our friends dealing with the Dead Queen situation to handle.”

  “An excellent point! I think that’s a great idea. We could even get Captain Drell and his grumpy healer friend to join us,” Psai says.

  Wyn likes the idea of traveling with Captain Drell. Elara is easily the most trustworthy and powerful companion she’s traveled with so far, but she isn’t always the friendliest traveling companion. For that matter, neither are Rennick nor Timnos. If it weren’t for Elara’s obvious experience and Tilly being a friendly mousefolk, Wyn would likely skip the mountain adventure and head straight north.

  Then again, Wyn made a promise to Elara, and she won’t break it no matter what. And there’s always her friend Froggy to consider. It’s been too long since she’s seen that explosive frog, and she figures it’s high time they rejoined the old group.

  But Psai is right; more companions are always a good thing. She nods in agreement. “It can’t hurt to ask, right?”

  Psai beams, excited that his suggestion was considered. “Excellent!”

  Wyn turns her focus to Lothran, their eyes exchanging thoughts that can no longer be shared out loud in Psai’s presence. “How do we get out of here?”

  “Simple, I recast the activation spell.”

  With a flick of the wrist, Lothran activates the same spell that opened the door originally. Unlike before, where it created a strange pulsing void, the rectangular portal door appears before them, showering them in bright light. He plays the same rhythm of sigils and the door opens, revealing the interior of the Lethisburg Hall.

  Wyn, no longer afraid of the door, steps through, with Lothran following her close behind.

  “Remember what we talked about, Wyn,” Lothran says. “Be careful up north. Dangers are always lurking in the grass.”

  Wyn nods at Lothran. There’s something about those particular words that resonates with Wyn for some reason. A feeling that she’s heard them before, but can’t quite place it. She shakes off the déjà vu, and heads to leave the Lethisburg hall.

  “Oh, and before you go,” Lothran says, interrupting Wyn as she has one foot out the door.

  “Take this; it might be helpful.”

  Lothran hands Wyn a pair of books, one that looks like some sort of notebook written by Lothran’s own hand, and the other is a thicker, older leather-bound tome labeled ‘Spellweaving, a Guide.’

  Wyn tucks the books away, nodding as Lothran speaks, but her thoughts are already elsewhere, running through Lothran’s words in her head over and over.

  There’s a feeling in the back of her mind, one she’s felt before but now uniquely terrified of. That horrible sensation of eyes resting on you, just out of sight. She understands now what Lothran truly fears. Not monsters. Not the death of his in-game avatar. Attention from the corporate lords of this world.

  She glances at Psai, floating nearby, cheerful once more, blissfully unaware of the gap growing between them. Affection contorts with suspicion. Wyn wants to trust the friendly orb. But now with what Lothran has shared, she’s not sure she can.

  Yet despite the danger Lothran showed her, none of this makes her want to stop. Wyn has always loved a mystery, and now she gets to sit in the middle of her own grandiose tale of mystery. It’s not quite what she expected stepping into this world of heroic adventurers, but the chance to make a difference in this world, and maybe even her own, can’t be passed up.

  “You seem to be one who learns better from experience than books, but I figure this will be helpful to you. Good luck out there.”

  Lothran’s words snap Wyn out of her deep thoughts. She happily accepts the gifts and tucks them into her inventory to read over later. Yet another thing on her ever-expanding list of to-dos.

  “Thank you, Lothran. For everything.”

  As she steps toward the exit, Wyn makes a quiet promise to herself. Not spoken. Not written. The kind of promise that sinks into bone and waits. If the Watchers are watching her, then she will learn how to hide in plain sight. And if this world is truly just a game, then she intends to learn how to break it without ever letting them know she tried.

  The doors of Lethisburg Hall swing shut behind them, the indistinct murmur of the city bleeding back into Wyn’s ears, rats scurrying into their holes and boots squelching against the muddy ground.

  Psai floats at her side, already mid-thought. “If we plan our route carefully, we could reach the mountain passes before the weather turns. Of course, that assumes we don’t get sidetracked by bandits, beasts, or local political intrigue. Which, statistically speaking, is rather unlikely. We might meet Neil and Mirana along the routeas well.”

  Wyn hums in vague agreement.

  Her hand brushes the folded paper in her pocket, and she feels its weight like a stone pressing into her palm. But she can’t let Psai see it. There will be a time to read whatever is scribbled on that note, but not now. Not when Psai could see it.

  She takes three more steps before something in her periphery catches. It’s just a flicker, but more than enough to catch her eye. A shape where no one should be; cloaked in black that seems to drink in the surrounding light rather than reflect it.

  Her breath catches, but Wyn does not stop walking.

  She does not turn her head. She does not tense, or reach for her dagger, or let her eyes linger even a fraction of a second longer than any normal passerby might.

  Her face remains carefully neutral as she lets out a small, irritated sigh, the kind born of inconvenience rather than fear. She shakes her head and mutters, just loud enough to be overheard, “Great. Another long walk.”

  Psai laughs. “Adventuring builds character!”

  “Yeah,” Wyn says, managing a faint smile. “That’s what they tell me.”

  They keep moving, doubt clinging to the back of Wyn’s mind. The feeling of being watched clings to her like a second shadow, threatening to fill her with anxiety.

  But something has changed in Wyn; a spark of determination grows within her.

  For the first time since entering Eden, Wyn no longer feels lost in its mysteries, but drawn toward them. The fear of the unknown was still there, humming quietly beneath her skin, but it no longer ruled her steps.

  If this world insisted on watching her, then fine. She could play along. They may set the rules, but she’ll happily exploit them. Progenitis doesn’t stand a chance.