Max opened his eyes with difficulty.

Or at least, he thought he did.

There was no ceiling.

No walls.

No floor.

Only emptiness.

An absolute, infinite, silent void.

Black, but not exactly black. More like the complete absence of something his brain simply couldn’t process.

"...What the hell?" he muttered.

His voice sounded strange. As if there were no air, and yet sound still somehow existed.

He looked around.

Thousands. No, millions of lines of code floated slowly everywhere.

Symbols. Letters. Numbers. Variables. Fragments of commands.

Everything drifted around him like frozen vertical rain.

Strings of familiar and unfamiliar text.

[PLAYER_ID: UNKNOWN]

[WORLD_INSTANCE: ACTIVE]

[ERROR DETECTED]

[REALITY THREAD STABLE]

Max narrowed his eyes.

"No," he said immediately.

Brief pause.

"I do not like this at all."

He tried to move one leg.

Nothing.

Then an arm.

Nothing.

He looked down.

He was floating.

Suspended in the middle of that digital void like a badly saved file.

"Perfect," he muttered.

"I literally became visual data."

He turned slightly on himself. Or something vaguely similar.

That was when he saw something in the distance.

A silhouette.

It looked human.

Female.

Too far away to make out details, but there was clearly someone there. Standing still. Watching him.

Max’s eyes widened.

"Hey!" he shouted.

Nothing.

He tried moving toward her.

Absolutely nothing happened.

He remained floating in place like a particularly confused decoration.

"Fantastic," he muttered.

He took one deep breath.

Then another.

Then a third.

"Okay," he told himself.

"Do not panic. I’ve had enough existential crises for one lifetime."

He looked back at the figure.

"System," he called out loudly.

Nothing answered.

Max frowned.

"System, how do I move?"

Absolute silence.

Not a single pop-up window.

No text.

No irritating automated responses.

Nothing.

Max stayed still for a few seconds.

Then sighed heavily.

"You’re useless, system," he said with total disappointment.

And then he heard laughter.

Female.

Soft.

Amused.

It came from the silhouette.

Max froze.

"...Okay," he muttered.

"That was definitely not what I expected."

The figure remained far away.

He thought quickly.

If he couldn’t move normally...

"I need momentum," he muttered.

He frowned, thinking.

"If I had one of Sophie’s propulsion seals..."

At that exact moment, something appeared in his hand.

A small circular seal.

Faintly glowing.

Max stared at it.

Then at the void.

Then back at the seal.

"...Well," he said slowly.

"Thanks, nothingness, I guess."

He activated it.

FWOOOSH.

He launched violently forward.

"AH, THIS IS WAY TOO FAST!" he shouted as he shot across the empty space like a poorly calibrated human projectile.

The female laughter grew louder.

Closer.

Until Max finally managed to stop awkwardly near the silhouette, spinning on himself before stabilising.

He ended up floating directly in front of her.

It was a woman.

Or at least, she looked like one.

Tall. About his height.

Covered in a black cloak.

Her hair constantly changed colour.

Black. White. Blue. Gold. Red. Silver. Green.

A different shade every second. As if it couldn’t decide what appearance to keep.

Max frowned.

"Who are you?" he asked directly.

The woman let out another small laugh.

She turned slightly.

Just enough not to show him her face.

"That’s usually the first question," she replied calmly.

Her voice sounded strangely familiar.

Like hearing his own echo filtered through another person.

Max crossed his arms.

"I don’t understand what we’re doing here," he said.

"I shouldn’t technically be here either."

He tried using his system to analyse her.

Nothing happened.

Again.

Not a single window.

The woman laughed again.

"Of course it doesn’t work," she said, amused.

Max looked at her.

"Why?"

She tilted her head slightly.

"Because you can’t analyse yourself."

Silence.

Max blinked.

"...What?"

The woman finally turned fully toward him.

And Max felt like his brain stopped processing information for a full three seconds.

The woman had his face.

Literally.

The exact same face.

Same features.

Same eyes.

Only softer. More feminine.

Like an alternate version of himself designed by someone with far too much free time and a deeply concerning obsession with visual chaos.

She was dressed exactly like him.

Same clothes.

Same black cloak.

Same accidental protagonist aesthetic.

Max slowly opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"...No," he finally said.

The woman smiled widely.

"Yes."

Max pointed at her face.

"Why do you look like me?"

"Because you look like me," she replied.

That clarified absolutely nothing.

Max placed a hand on his forehead.

"This is giving me a headache inside a dream."

The woman laughed again, then gave a small theatrical bow.

"My name is Atlas," she said.

Straightening up again.

"I am your SSS-rank skill."

Brief pause.

"The reason you’re able to exist in this world without immediately collapsing."

Silence.

Complete.

Absolute.

Max stared at her.

Blinking once.

Then twice.

And slowly began leaning backward from pure emotional imbalance.

"Whoa—"

He flailed his arms uselessly.

Didn’t fall, because technically they were floating.

But the attempt was there.

Atlas burst into genuine laughter.

"That was exactly the reaction I expected."

Max recovered his composure as best he could.

"Wait," he said, raising a hand.

"No, no, no."

He pointed at Atlas.

"My skill is a person?"

"In essence, this is simply the form I chose as a representation within this environment," she replied.

"And I look like a woman?"

Atlas smiled.

"Only an improved version."

Max looked horrified.

"That was unnecessarily offensive."

Atlas shrugged.

"It’s true."

Max sighed deeply.

"Okay."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Let’s pretend I’m willing to accept all of this for five more minutes."

He looked around.

"Is this real?"

Atlas nodded slightly.

"It’s a type of dream."

Brief pause.

"But it is genuinely happening."

Max narrowed his eyes.

"That sounds like something that should not be possible."

"Many things about you should not be possible," Atlas replied with calmly insulting honesty.

Touché.

Max crossed his arms.

"So," he said.

"Why are you showing up now?"

Atlas’s smile softened slightly.

Her expression became more serious.

"Because there is a problem."

That was never a good sign.

Max immediately felt a knot form in his stomach.

Atlas extended one hand, and part of the code around them began rearranging itself.

Floating lines.

Broken windows.

Errors.

Fragmented messages.

[ANOMALY COUNT INCREASING]

[WORLD STABILITY DECLINING]

[CORRECTION PROTOCOL PREPARING]

Max frowned.

"I don’t understand any of that."

Atlas sighed.

"I’ll give you the short version."

"As you already know, you are an error."

Max opened his mouth.

"Wow."

He placed a hand dramatically over his chest.

"That was direct."

"Not emotionally," she replied.

"Systemically."

Much better. Clearly.

Atlas continued.

"Your existence in this world was never supposed to happen."

Max stayed silent.

He had already suspected that.

But hearing it stated so bluntly was still uncomfortable.

Atlas gestured toward the code.

"You were the only error."

Her tone remained calm.

"A single error in a massive system can sustain itself."

Small pause.

"It can hide. Adapt."

Max swallowed.

"But..."

Atlas nodded.

"But you are no longer the only one."

A chill immediately ran down Max’s spine.

His mind instantly went to one person.

"...Chloe," he said quietly.

Atlas smiled faintly.

"Yes."

Max frowned.

"But Chloe came after me."

"Correct."

"Then that means there are two errors."

"Incorrect," Atlas replied.

Max blinked.

"...What?"

Atlas stared directly at him.

"It seems there are more."

Absolute silence.

Max felt something inside him tense violently.

"More?" he repeated.

Atlas nodded.

"In addition to Chloe, there are others summoning beings from other worlds."

Max felt the air vanish.

"No," he said immediately.

"No, that cannot possibly be good."

"It isn’t," Atlas replied.

She pointed again at the unstable lines of code.

"Every new anomaly weakens the world’s stability. And there is something specifically designed to solve that problem."

Max was already hating where this was going.

Atlas continued.

"A protective system."

Brief pause.

"Something akin to this world’s immune mechanism."

Max felt cold.

Very cold.

"I’m going to regret asking this," he muttered.

Atlas ignored that.

"Its function is simple."

She looked directly at him.

"Detect errors. Correct them. Eliminate anomalies."

Max felt his stomach drop.

"Eliminate," he repeated slowly.

Atlas nodded.

"In the best-case scenario, it erases the errors."

Another pause.

"In the worst case..."

She glanced around.

"...it resets the entire world."

It felt like something crushed Max’s chest.

He couldn’t speak for several seconds.

His mind filled with involuntary images.

Elanor.

Moonlight.

Dorian.

Abby.

Sophie.

Seraphine.

Neros.

Chloe.

Don.

The Great City.

Everything.

Everyone.

Everything disappearing like a corrupted save file.

As if none of it had ever existed.

"No," he muttered.

Atlas remained silent.

Max slowly clenched his fists.

"No," he repeated, firmer this time.

He thought of Elanor smiling.

Of his ridiculous adventures with Moon.

Of Dorian crying for Finn.

Of Chloe awkwardly learning Elvish.

Of Neros carrying Seraphine while believing she was drunk.

Of Abby and Sophie helping him adjust to life in the castle.

Of everything he had built here.

Everything that already felt real.

Too real.

He slowly lifted his gaze toward Atlas.

His voice came out far more serious than before.

"...How do we stop that?"

Atlas smiled faintly.

As if she had been waiting for that exact question.

"Ah," she said softly.

"Now we’re finally discussing the correct problem."