The classroom buzzed with excitement, the kind that only a groundbreaking game could generate. Students huddled in small groups, their voices laced with disbelief, awe, and obsession. Screens lit up with clips, forum threads, memes—every conversation seemed to lead back to Dream Land Fantasy.
But in the middle of it all, Zihad sat silently, his posture perfect, eyes downcast, reading a chemistry chapter he had already mastered weeks ago.
No one bothered him.
Not because they didn't like him—but because Zihad had mastered the art of invisibility.
A topper with perfect scores, he was admired in silence, feared in exams, and left alone in casual conversation. Unless you had a reason to talk to him, you didn't. And even if you did, you'd usually regret breaking that wall of silence. Zihad only answered with the bare minimum.
But his mind was nowhere near chemistry today.
It kept drifting back to the reports Zidan had shown him. The clips. The forums. The growing cult around Phantom Reaper.
And the reports of… abnormalities.
No, not merging. That wasn't happening yet. But something else was beginning. Something he hadn't planned.
His systems were clean. His AI logs secure. His neural sync code perfectly contained.
But still—rumors spread of players feeling more than they should. A few extra sensations, a heightened emotional response. A strange sense of… presence.
Zihad closed the book and looked out the window.
"Hey," a classmate whispered behind him, "I think he's played Dream Land. He's been acting different."
"Zihad? Nah, no way. He doesn't even play games."
"You sure? He's always so quiet. What if he's, like, a secret pro or something?"
Zihad heard every word but didn't react. His gaze remained on the sky.
Outside, the clouds hung low, casting a silver glow over the city. A rare moment of calm in Dhaka's usual chaos. Yet it felt like the moment before a storm.
Later that evening…
Zihad sat alone at his workstation, monitoring backend performance. No red flags. No anomalies. Everything functioned better than expected.
User retention? 97%.
Concurrent logins? 9.3 million and growing.
Player progression? Perfectly balanced.
He should have been pleased. He should've been ecstatic.
But he wasn't.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.
His mind wandered—not to the systems or data—but to the players. The world inside the game. The stories already forming. The NPCs learning, evolving. Some even questioning their own existence.
That wasn't supposed to happen this soon.
He hadn't fed them enough data for that kind of development.
"Am I losing control… or is the system just growing faster than expected?"
He reopened the AI loop diagnostics.
Still clean.
But something… felt wrong. Not dangerous. Just… unexpected.
He minimized the screen.
A message pinged from Zidan.
Zidan: Bro. That "Reaper Boss" event you added last-minute? Half the server's trying to find it. Some guy posted a theory that it's an actual player who completed a hidden tutorial.
Zidan: You know, like YOU.
Zihad didn't reply.
Instead, he slowly turned to the full-dive pod in the corner of his room.
It gleamed under the soft blue light, like a gateway back into another life.
10:40 p.m.
He slid inside.
The pod sealed shut.
And the login screen shimmered into existence.
Welcome back, Player.
Dream Land Fantasy: Neural Sync Online.
Launching...
End of Chapter 10