Ren opened his eyes to a sky that shouldn't exist—a digital blue so perfect it stung. The air smelled like static and iron, a metallic tang clinging to his tongue. Around him, the Town of Beginnings sprawled in jagged polygons, its cobblestone streets flickering faintly, as if the world itself were a poorly rendered dream. Players brushed past him, their voices muffled and distant, like they were speaking through water. None of them looked at him.
Again
He flexed his hands, the scarred skin glitching faintly, pixels swimming under his nails. This was his fourth respawn today. Or was it the fifth? The system logs refused to show his death count, his menu screen perpetually frozen on [ERROR: USER NOT FOUND]. He'd stopped screaming for help after the second day. No one ever heard him.
A shopkeeper NPC blinked at him vacantly as he stumbled into a weapon stall. "Welcome! How can I—oh." The man's cheery voice faltered, his eyes glazing over. "Never mind. Must've been a bug."
Ren grabbed a dagger from the stall, its hilt cold and unreal in his palm. The NPC didn't react.
Outside, a low-level boar patrolled the streets, tusks gleaming with unnatural malice. Ren lunged at it, the blade sinking into pixelated fur. The creature dissolved into shards, but not before its tusk ripped through his chest. He didn't bother stifling his gasp—no one would remember the sound anyway.
When he respawned, the dagger was gone.
---
He found her on the edge of the First Floor labyrinth.
She moved like light—a flash of chestnut hair and silver steel, her rapier a blur as it pierced a wolf's throat. But something was wrong. The monster's corpse didn't shatter. Instead, it *twisted*, its form warping into a grotesque mass of claws and teeth, a glitch made flesh.
"Get back!" Ren shouted, though he knew she wouldn't hear him.
To his shock, she froze.
The creature lunged. Without thinking, Ren threw himself between them, his body erupting in phantom pain as jagged teeth tore into his shoulder. He didn't bother fighting. Death was temporary. Forgetting was worse.
But this time, when he respawned, someone was waiting.
"Who are you?"
Her voice was sharp, breathless. The girl—*Asuna*, his flickering HUD supplied—stood over him, rapier still dripping with corrupted data. Her eyes were wide, not with fear, but something worse: recognition.
Ren stared. No one had ever looked at him like that. Like he was real.
"You… see me?" he croaked.
"You took that hit for me. Why?"
He pushed himself up, his hands trembling. Static danced across her cheek where his fingers brushed hers, leaving a faint, glowing scar. She flinched but didn't pull away.
"I don't know," he lied. The truth was too pathetic: *Because it's the only thing that makes me feel alive.*
---
She followed him.
He didn't ask why. Maybe she pitied him—the glitch-boy with the flickering coat and hollow eyes. Or maybe, like him, she was desperate to prove this nightmare had rules.
They fought side by side in the labyrinth's shadows, her rapier a silver streak, his stolen blades crumbling in his grip. Each death chipped away at him. He forgot the taste of her name first. Then the color of her hair. By the fifth respawn, he didn't know why he kept stepping in front of her strikes.
"Stop it!" she snapped after he dissolved a sixth time, his body scattering like ash. "Why do you keep doing that?"
He wanted to laugh. *I don't know how to do anything else.*
Instead, he said, "Call me Ren."
"Why?"
"Because I think I forgot my name."
---
That night, they camped beneath a fractured sky. The stars here were wrong—too symmetrical, like a child's sticker set. Asuna tossed him a bread roll. It passed through his hand, landing in the dirt with a dull thud.
"Sorry," she muttered, though she didn't sound surprised.
He shrugged. "I'm used to it."
Silence stretched, broken only by the hum of corrupted data. Then—
"You're not in the player logs." She didn't look at him. "I checked."
Ren traced the glowing scars on his palm. "What's the verdict?"
"Either you're a ghost… or I'm going insane."
"Could be both."
She laughed—a sharp, startled sound. When she turned to him, her smile was softer than he'd imagined. "You're a terrible liar, Ren."
He looked away. *You have no idea.*
---
They reached the boss chamber at dawn.
Kirito was already there, his black coat swirling as he addressed the raid party. Ren hung back, unnoticed, as always. But Asuna hesitated, her gaze flickering to him.
"You should stay," she said quietly.
"Why? I'll just respawn."
"Exactly." Her fingers brushed his glitching sleeve. "I don't want to watch you die again."
He almost told her then. About the memories slipping through his fingers. About the way each respawn left him emptier, like a book missing its pages. But the doors creaked open, and she was gone—swallowed by the crowd.
Ren died seven times in that fight.
No one noticed.
---
Afterward, he found her at the edge of the battlefield, her hands stained with virtual blood. She didn't speak as he sat beside her, their shoulders not quite touching.
"You're still here," she said finally.
"Nowhere else to go."
She turned, her eyes reflecting the shattered moon. "What happens when the game ends?"
He smiled. It tasted like static. "I'll self-destruct before I let you crash."
She didn't laugh.
Somewhere, deep in the code, a shadow stirred.