James stifled a yawn as he and Lyra pushed through the doors of the Adventurer’s Guild. The warm glow of torchlight and the low hum of conversation wrapped around them like a blanket, offering a small respite from the exhausting battle they had barely survived.

  Garrick, Riona, and Lillian were already at the quest desk, speaking with a tired-looking guild official who was jotting notes onto a parchment. The scent of ale, roasted meat, and damp leather filled the air, making James realize how hungry he was.

  “Here to report in?” the guild official asked without looking up.

  “Yeah,” James muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “Goblin nest’s been dealt with.”

  Riona leaned against the counter, flipping a dagger between her fingers. “More like ‘corrupted goblin nest.’ You’ll want to send someone to investigate. Something was making them stronger—smarter.”

  The official finally looked up, interest piqued. “Corruption? Any leads?”

  Lillian crossed her arms. “There were markings all over the goblins’ bodies. Looked magical. The chieftain was a monster—almost took us apart.”

  The official frowned, scribbling something down. “I’ll make sure the higher-ups hear about this. Your reward—” He reached under the desk, producing a heavy coin pouch. “—for a job well done.”

  Garrick took it and split the coins evenly between them. “That’s that.” He stretched, cracking his neck. “I don’t know about you lot, but I need a drink.”

  James and Lyra exchanged a glance before nodding. “We’re in,” James said.

  The group made their way to the guild’s pub, a lively place packed with adventurers celebrating victories, drowning sorrows, or both. They found an empty table near the back, and soon, a round of drinks was placed in front of them.

  James took a deep sip of his ale, the cool bitterness washing away some of his exhaustion. He exhaled, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly.

  “So,” Riona said, resting her chin on her hand. “Since we’ll be working together for a while, how about we get to know each other better?”

  Lillian smirked. “You just want an excuse to gossip.”

  Riona grinned. “Maybe.”

  Garrick took a long drink before setting his mug down. “James, Lyra—what’s your story?”

  James hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share, but after everything they’d just been through, he figured a little honesty wouldn’t hurt.

  “Well,” he started, swirling his drink. “I got into this game to escape reality. Ended up stuck here. The usual tragic backstory, I guess.”

  Lyra snorted. “You make it sound boring.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  James rolled his eyes. “Fine. I was a bit of a mess before this. Spent way too much time playing games, avoiding life. Then… I woke up here.”

  The table fell silent for a moment.

  Lillian took a sip of her drink, studying him. “And now?”

  James exhaled. “Now, I’m just trying to survive.”

  Lyra leaned back. “I was in a similar boat. Real life wasn’t exactly kind to me, so I figured why not lose myself in a game? Turns out, the game had other plans.”

  Riona hummed. “Guess we all have our reasons for being here.”

  The conversation drifted into lighter topics after that—past adventures, near-death experiences, and the occasional joke at each other’s expense. But eventually, exhaustion won out.

  James and Lyra said their goodbyes and headed out into the streets. The town was quieter now, the streets lit only by lanterns and the pale glow of the moon.

  “Finally,” Lyra muttered. “Sleep.”

  They found an inn and paid for a single room with two beds. It wasn’t much—just a wooden floor, a small table, and beds that looked like they had seen better days—but at this point, anything was better than nothing.

  James sat on his bed, pulling off his boots. His muscles ached, his mind was clouded with exhaustion, but despite everything, he couldn’t shake an odd feeling crawling up his spine.

  Lyra flopped onto her bed. “You good?”

  James hesitated. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

  She grunted in response, already half-asleep.

  James lay down, staring at the ceiling. He exhaled, letting sleep pull him under.

  The world twisted.

  Darkness swallowed everything, stretching infinitely in all directions. It wasn’t just dark—it was absolute nothingness, a void that seemed to press against his skin.

  James turned, but there was no ground beneath him. No sky. Just endless shadow.

  Then, a whisper.

  Low. Hissing. Indistinct.

  Shapes flickered in the void. Shadowy figures shifting at the edge of his vision, moving like smoke. A pressure settled in his skull, like something was trying to crawl inside.

  The tattoos on his arms burned.

  James looked down—his skin was glowing with strange runes, pulsing like a heartbeat.

  The whispering grew louder.

  You are marked.

  A figure emerged from the darkness, towering and faceless. Its form twisted, constantly shifting between human and something else.

  James tried to step back—there was nowhere to go.

  The figure reached out. Its fingers were long, clawed, dripping with something black and alive.

  Take your place.

  James’s body refused to move.

  Shadow tendrils wrapped around his arms, creeping up his neck, coiling around his chest. They sank into his skin, burrowing into his very being.

  He opened his mouth to scream—

  James shot up with a gasp.

  The room was dark, but not empty.

  Shadows writhed around him, twisting unnaturally, stretching toward the ceiling. Tendrils of pure darkness lashed at the air, moving as if alive.

  Across the room, Lyra was standing, dagger drawn. Her eyes were wide, and her stance tense.

  “What the fuck,” she breathed.

  James blinked—the tendrils shivered, then collapsed back into him, vanishing like they had never been there.

  Silence.

  His chest was heaving, sweat dripping down his back. He could still feel the presence of the void clinging to him, whispering at the edges of his mind.

  Lyra sheathed her dagger, but her expression was cautious.

  “That was…” She shook her head. “You were summoning something, James.”

  He swallowed, looking down at his hands. The tattoos still pulsed faintly.

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  Lyra exhaled, rubbing her face. “Yeah, well, it was creepy as hell. You were muttering in your sleep, and then those things just—appeared.”

  James ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. He felt… wrong. Like part of him was still in that void.

  “I think,” he muttered, “I’m starting to understand what these tattoos mean.”

  Lyra gave him a look. “Good. Because if you wake up one more time summoning shadow monsters, I’m throwing you out the damn window.”

  James let out a breathless chuckle, rubbing his face. “Fair.”

  But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning.

  And whatever was waiting for him in the void… it wasn’t done with him yet.