Reiji stared at the golden system window like it owed him rent.
> Hidden Title Detected: [TRUE PLAYER]
Effect: Immune to Narrative Lock.
System Permissions: Partial Override Unlocked.
NPC Protocols: Bypassed.
Welcome, Developer-Class Entity.
"Developer-class...?" he muttered. "That sounds cool until you realize it probably means unpaid intern with god access."
He waved a hand—and the window closed.
Closed.
He didn't even click anything.
Reiji blinked. "Okay. That's new. I'm not supposed to have UI control without a hotkey. I didn't even hit F2—does this game think I'm on controller mode?!"
Another window materialized, this time a debug log. Text scrolled faster than a Reddit thread during a scandal.
> [Narrative Integrity = Breached]
[Player_ID: SATO_REIJI – Status: Incompatible]
[Override Priority: ∞]
[Note: WHO THE HELL PUT AN ∞ VALUE IN HERE]
[Comment: Probably Steve.]
Reiji squinted. "...Wait. Who's Steve?"
The window evaporated like a fart in the wind.
Great. Now the system was gaslighting him.
He stood up and took his first real look around. The village looked like it was rendered on a budget. Half the NPCs were looping the same three walking animations. One dude was banging a hammer on a table that didn't have anything on it. Another was yelling "Fresh fish!" in front of what was clearly a fruit stand.
He narrowed his eyes. "Alright. This is either deep lore satire, or someone ran out of RAM."
Reiji stumbled over to a well, cupped water into his hands—and paused.
The water was... too real. Not hyper-polished like a AAA game. Not stylized like JRPG art. It was wet. Cold. Honest-to-God physical.
This wasn't VR.
This wasn't even augmented.
It was reality—with a game engine duct-taped on top like a modded Skyrim build five seconds from crashing.
"…So I didn't just get trapped in a game," he whispered. "I got patched into a simulation."
Ding.
> [SYSTEM LOG UPDATE]
Origin Pathway: Remote Injection (User Feedback Protocol Triggered)
Transfer Medium: Unknown
Encryption Class: Blackbox / Irregular
Network Anchor Detected: "Elysia: Fatebound"
Process Notes: [Highly Unstable] [Memory Fragmentation: Active] [Observe Subject Behavior]
"Oh sure," Reiji muttered. "Now we're doing SCP reports. What's next? The backrooms? Liminal chickens?"
He sat on a crate. Thought.
This wasn't just a game world.
It was stitched together by something pretending to be one. Which meant—
Someone—or something—put him here.
And not for fun.
His mind started racing. Remote injection. Feedback protocol. Someone had hijacked the feedback button—weaponized it. The "Would you like to report this to a higher power?" wasn't a joke.
It was a trapdoor.
A Trojan Horse. Except instead of Greeks, it had spaghetti code and pettiness.
And he had walked right into it.
"Okay," he breathed. "Focus. Think. What's the first rule when you wake up inside a digital hellscape?"
He tapped his head.
"Exploit the damn system."
He opened his fake UI again. Menu bloomed open. Everything was grayed out—except for one flickering icon in the corner.
> DEBUG MODE: [LOCKED]
[Condition: Unlockable via Proximity to System Artifact]
[Location Hint: "Where the code sings and the pixels die."]
Reiji deadpanned. "Cool. Now I'm on a fetch quest written by a Tumblr poet."
Still, it was a lead. Better than waiting around to be tutorial fodder.
A nearby villager walked by, holding a cabbage like it was made of gold. Reiji stepped in front of him.
"Excuse me—"
The NPC glitched slightly. "The weather's nice today, huh?"
Reiji stared.
Then he leaned in and whispered, "The weather's a lie. Wake up, brother."
The villager blinked. Blinked again. Then launched into a T-pose and walked straight through a wall.
Reiji nodded solemnly. "Another one unplugged. Godspeed, Morpheus."
He checked the map.
No fast travel. No journal. No compass. Just vibes and trauma.
He looked down at his own hands. Then at the world.
Then at the sky.
Something was wrong with all of this. Wrong in the way deepfake smiles look just a little too wide. Like reality was running on borrowed code. Like he wasn't supposed to be here—and the world was trying very hard to pretend otherwise.
He grinned.
"So I broke the game that broke me back. Fine."
Reiji turned toward the mountains on the horizon, where
a flicker of light glitched unnaturally—like the loading screen of a boss fight someone forgot to finish.
"Let's break it harder."
...
To be continued