The sharp morning wind dragged dry leaves along the dirt road as Lysa advanced with silent, almost stealthy steps. Her senses were sharpened—every sound, every movement around her was analyzed with precision. The death of Baron Destroven still echoed in her mind, but she knew she couldn’t allow herself to falter. The System was watching, and she had to stay one step ahead.

  The path ahead was barren, lifeless. The twisted trees cast long, threatening shadows, as if they wanted to swallow the road whole. Lysa felt the weight of solitude, but also the freedom that came with it. No more chains, no more masters. She was free to hunt, to destroy, to take revenge. But with each step, a strange feeling accompanied her—like she was being watched.

  She stopped for a moment, listening to the silence around her. Nothing. But then, a faint breeze carried a distinct scent—dried meat and sweat. Someone was nearby.

  Lysa quickly hid behind a fallen tree, watching closely. Her eyes scanned the landscape, searching for any sign of movement. And then she saw him.

  The figure was imposing, with broad shoulders and defined muscles showing under the dark cloak he wore. His face was partially covered by a leather mask, but his eyes—intense and piercing—were exposed. He stood still, watching the road, as if waiting for something… or someone.

  A chill ran down Lysa’s spine. She knew who he was. Thorne Varkas. The System’s hunter. He had been sent to find her, to eliminate her. And now he was here—so close.

  She had to act, but couldn’t be reckless. Thorne was dangerous, experienced. One mistake could mean her death. So she hid deeper, waiting for the right moment.

  Time seemed to drag as she watched Thorne. He didn’t move, just stood there—attentive, like a beast lying in wait. Lysa knew he was waiting for her, but she was waiting for him too. The confrontation was inevitable, but she needed to be ready.

  Finally, Thorne moved. He took a step forward. Then another. And another. Every motion was calculated, precise. Lysa tracked each one, analyzing his actions, trying to understand his patterns.

  She knew he was heading toward the nearby village. Maybe he had information about the next targets on the list. Maybe he was just patrolling the area. But one thing was certain—he was getting closer, and she had to decide what to do.

  The village of Vartren was a forgotten spot between forests—the kind of place nobles hadn’t stepped into in decades. Not from lack of interest, but pure disdain. There, the average Life Value barely reached 10. The fields were dry, the soil poor, and the people more bent from humiliation than from labor. Still, it was alive. Too alive for Lysa’s eyes as she approached under the cover of a frayed hood and light footsteps.

  She needed information—and maybe supplies. But more than that, she needed to understand why the System seemed… agitated.

  Since she absorbed Baron Destroven’s Value, something had changed. Internal messages from the System came more frequently. Alerts. Scrambled lines of code. Even dreams—visions like fragments of corrupted programming. And then there was that name, which had emerged among the whisper of algorithms:

  “Aemorr.”

  She still didn’t know what it was. But the name echoed with the same weight as the Primordial Code. And part of her feared what it could mean.

  The village appeared ahead, wrapped in a faint mist and the smell of morning fires. Lysa entered through the main trail, ignored by all, a common shadow among ghosts. Head low, posture hunched. She had learned from the slaves: invisibility wasn’t magic—it was habit.

  But someone saw her.

  “You’re not from around here.”

  The voice was firm, but not threatening.

  Lysa looked up. The man standing before her was young—maybe early twenties—tall, broad-shouldered, and sun-bronzed. Dark hair tied at the nape with a leather strap, eyes golden like aged amber. He wore a simple tunic, but there was something about the way he wore it… as if poverty were just a disguise.

  “And you’ve got too many eyes for a villager,” she replied, without hostility.

  He gave a crooked smile.

  “I know what it looks like when someone moves like a predator. You’re not running. You’re hunting.”

  The System inside Lysa pulsed. A flash crossed her vision:

  Partial analysis: Estimated Value — 37. Status: Unknown. Class: Hidden.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  He raised his hands, calm.

  “Nobody. Just a wanderer who hasn’t yet decided whether to die a mercenary or be reborn as something better. Call me Kael. And you?”

  She hesitated. Part of her wanted to say “nobody,” but that wasn’t true anymore.

  “Lysa.”

  Kael narrowed his eyes. Recognition flickered. But he didn’t retreat. Didn’t try to capture her. He just crossed his arms and leaned against a post.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Think you’ve got many followers here, Lysa?” he whispered. “Or just those who want to watch the world burn like you do?”

  Lysa didn’t answer. But her hand instinctively reached for the dagger beneath her cloak. Kael didn’t move.

  “Easy. I’m not with the System. I was… a long time ago. A priest, believe it or not.” He laughed bitterly. “Until I saw how ‘order’ only works for those born with high Value.”

  Lysa didn’t release the blade, but her attention shifted. System priests didn’t abandon their faith—unless something shattered them from the inside out.

  “Why did you follow me?”

  “Because I heard about you. The bloodstained road. The destroyed convoy. The name carved into the ground.” He leaned forward. “And because I also want to see the top fall.”

  For a moment, they were silent, eyes locked. It was the first time Lysa had met someone who didn’t see her as a plague or a freak… but not as a martyr either. Just an equal. Fractured. Full of the wrong reasons to do the right thing.

  She finally released the dagger.

  “I’m not building a rebellion.”

  “Of course not. You’re building something more dangerous. A legend.”

  The tavern of Vartren was small and filthy, with crooked tables and watered-down wine served in cracked mugs. But it offered something Lysa needed: conversation.

  Sitting with Kael at the back table, she listened silently as he passed along the local rumors.

  “A hunter passed through here three nights ago. Huge. Iron eyes. Spoke to no one, but left gold to be left alone.” Kael sipped his drink. “I think that was your friend.”

  “Thorne,” she said simply.

  “He’s going to find you.”

  “I want him to.”

  Kael smirked faintly.

  “And what will you do when he tries to cut your head off?”

  “Test his blade.” She looked into the fire at the center of the room. “And see if my Value holds up.”

  Kael leaned back, arms crossed.

  “You talk like a machine sometimes. Like every death is a calculation. But your eyes… your eyes still scream.”

  Lysa looked away. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

  Before she could think, the System blinked another notification:

  Anomaly detected. Irregular System activity nearby.

  She stood abruptly.

  “What?” Kael asked, already drawing a dagger from his belt.

  “Something’s coming.”

  The noise rose from outside: screams. Shattering glass. And then… complete silence.

  Too much silence.

  Lysa ran to the door. The world outside was frozen—literally. Men stuck mid-scream, birds suspended in air like sculptures. Even the light seemed restrained, artificial.

  Kael followed.

  “Time…?”

  “No,” Lysa whispered. “Not ordinary magic. It’s the System.”

  And then she saw it.

  A figure floated in the air above the village square. It wore a black cloak stitched with glowing code, its face covered by a golden mask bearing the System’s symbol: an eye surrounded by gears. In its hands, a short crystal rod. An aura radiated from it that the world itself rejected—a presence the very code of the universe seemed to deny.

  Name: System Auditor

  Class: Absolute Execution

  Value: 120

  Status: Non-Human

  Objective: Eliminate Anomaly ‘Lysa’

  Kael hissed at the sight of the creature.

  “An Auditor? I thought they were just legends…”

  Lysa was already moving. The dagger gleamed in her hand. But the System screamed inside her:

  Warning: Direct intervention forbidden.

  Threat level: Extreme.

  Suggestion: Immediate escape.

  She ignored it. Charged forward. And the world broke.

  The Auditor raised its rod. Command lines floated in the air around it like invisible swords. One of them grazed Lysa. Her flesh screamed, but didn’t bleed—it burned, as if deleted.

  Kael rushed to distract it, throwing two blades that curved through the air. The Auditor’s rod moved without haste. Every attack was anticipated. Every strike, predicted.

  “He’s… reading our commands,” Kael shouted. “He sees what we’re going to do before we do it!”

  Lysa fell to her knees, panting. The System inside her trembled. But amid the pain… a voice. Not external. Internal.

  Hacked Code Update:

  New Emergency Permission Unlocked:

  Countercode.

  Description: One chance to reverse an executed command. Risk: Total.

  Activate? (Y/N)

  She closed her eyes. Felt the Auditor’s presence hovering over her. A blade of code descended—and she said:

  “Yes.”

  The world exploded in light.

  When Lysa opened her eyes, she was lying in the rubble. The village square had vanished. There was fire. People screaming. Time moved again.

  The Auditor’s body lay at the center—shattered into fragments of light, as if forcibly rebooted.

  Kael helped her up. His face was cut, but his eyes still burned defiantly.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Countercode,” she said. “Something even the System didn’t foresee.”

  “You deleted him?”

  “No. Just… shut down his permission.”

  She looked around. Villagers fled in terror. Others were dead. This wasn’t victory. Just survival.

  And another alert flashed in her mind:

  You executed a Forbidden Command.

  Risk level increased.

  Status updated:

  Hunted — Level 2.

  New Threat Awakened: ‘??? Level.’

  Kael read her expression.

  “This is going to get worse.”

  “It will.”

  She wiped the blood from her face and turned north.

  “Aemorr. That’s where I’m going.”

  Kael hesitated. Then nodded.

  “Then I’m going too.”

  Lysa didn’t answer. But for the first time, she wasn’t alone.

  And in the clouds above, a second eye opened—not physical, but real enough for the world to feel. The System was now watching her directly.