On his way back to the city, the quest from the Wayfinder’s Guild—Fragment of Shadows—still lingered in Nash’s mind. Its vagueness gnawed at him, the cryptic nature of the description pulling at his curiosity. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than just another quest—it felt personal, as though it had chosen him rather than the other way around.


    Nearing the gates, Nash veered onto a less-traveled side path that hugged the city’s outer walls. The main road had been crowded earlier, teeming with traders and adventurers, and he craved the quiet. The path was bordered by patches of overgrowth and the crumbling remains of stone ruins—ancient relics of some forgotten era that Eidolon had seamlessly woven into its immersive world. Shadows stretched long and uneven across the cracked stones, pooling in dark recesses that seemed deeper than they should have been.


    The faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city beyond the gates accompanied him, a contrast to the oppressive silence of the forest. Nash’s mind wandered back to the fight with the chimera, the phantom pain in his shoulder flaring briefly as if in reminder. His grip tightened on the chimera’s scale. Whatever was happening in Eidolon, it wasn’t just a game anymore.


    The air shifted.


    A figure stepped into his path, emerging from the shadows so suddenly that Nash froze mid-step. His fingers twitched instinctively toward the hilt of his spectral blades as his pulse spiked. The path had been empty moments ago—he was sure of it. Where the hell had this guy come from?


    The figure’s robes shimmered faintly, green and silver accents catching the dim light filtering through the canopy above. A hood obscured most of his face, leaving only sharp, watchful eyes visible beneath its shadow. As the stranger shifted slightly, the shadows around him seemed to cling unnaturally, blurring the edges of his form as though reluctant to let him go.


    “Impressive instincts,” the stranger said, his voice smooth and calm, with a disarming edge that only heightened Nash’s unease. “Most wouldn’t notice me until it was far too late.”


    Nash’s heart pounded as his eyes darted around, searching for signs of movement he might have missed. There were none. No sound, no warning—he had simply appeared. His grip on his blades tightened, but he didn’t draw them, not yet. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice steady, though his mind raced with possibilities.


    The stranger tilted his head slightly, as though appraising him. “You rely on sight and sound too much, Vargan. In a place like Eidolon, the shadows often hold truths your senses cannot grasp.”


    The use of his in-game name jolted Nash slightly, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he studied the figure more intently. “You’ve been watching me,” Nash said, his tone sharp. “Why?”


    “I saw you take down that chimera,” the stranger replied, his voice calm and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. “Interesting choice of tactics. Not many new players could pull that off.”


    Nash didn’t relax. His wariness sharpened further as he considered the implications of someone observing him for that long without his notice. His fingers hovered near the hilt of his blades. “Who’s asking?” he said, his tone cool but edged with suspicion.


    The stranger’s lips curved into a faint smile, the faint shimmer of his robes catching Nash’s attention again. The way he stood, relaxed yet poised, radiated a quiet authority. “Name’s Eliath,” he said. “Think of me as an observer. I couldn’t help but notice your… unorthodox approach. Spectral blades? Shadow-blending? Looks like you’re not here for the usual grind.”


    Nash smirked faintly, though his muscles stayed taut. “Maybe I just like to keep things interesting.”


    “Interesting, indeed,” Eliath said with a low chuckle. “Eidolon tends to take notice of players like you—those who push the limits.”


    His gaze flicked briefly toward the ruins in the distance before returning to Nash. “That quest you’re on, the Fragment of Shadows? It’s not part of the standard game. You’ve stumbled onto a hidden questline.”


    Nash raised an eyebrow, his unease deepening. “And how exactly do you know that?”


    Eliath’s smile didn’t falter. “I’ve been around. Let’s just say I notice patterns. That quest—the Fragment of Shadows—I’ve taken it myself. I completed it.” His tone shifted slightly, lower, as though weighing his next words carefully. “But it doesn’t end there. Everyone who takes the quest… they face something different. It’s never the same situation.”


    Nash narrowed his eyes, suspicion sharpening his thoughts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


    Eliath tilted his head, his sharp gaze fixed on Nash. “The quest adapts, Vargan. It digs into you, finds the cracks. Some come back different. Others… don’t come back at all.” His voice carried a note of warning, though his expression remained unreadable. “If you’re serious about following it, head east. The ruins outside the city hold answers. But answers always come at a price.”


    Nash opened his mouth to press further, but before he could, Eliath stepped back into the shadows. The darkness seemed to embrace him entirely, and within moments, he was gone. The path was empty again, save for the faint, unsettling silence that lingered after his departure.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Shaking off the cryptic encounter, Nash continued toward the gates, the bustling market visible just beyond. Once inside the city, he made a quick detour to a nearby stall, replenishing his health and stamina with a basic health potion and rations. The expense bit into his game credits, but after the chimera fight, it felt necessary.


    Still, as he moved through the crowded streets, Eliath’s words echoed in his mind: The quest digs into you. Some come back different. Nash’s curiosity burned brighter now, even as unease twisted in his gut. What was waiting for him in the ruins? And why had this stranger been so adamant in pointing him toward it?


    <hr>


    KYLE’S POV


    The crystalline structure loomed before them, its jagged edges refracting light in unsettling patterns across the clearing. Kyle’s party moved cautiously toward it, the oppressive hum still faintly audible, vibrating through their chests. Every step felt heavier, the air around them charged with an unnatural energy that seemed to press against their very presence.


    The reflections on the surface of the crystal had settled into eerie stillness, but they were no less disconcerting. Each glance revealed subtle distortions—Kia’s movements delayed by a fraction of a second, Gareth’s shield larger than it should have been, and Kyle’s own image blurred, as though it didn’t quite belong.


    “Stay alert,” Kyle said, gripping his weapon tightly. His clones shimmered faintly beside him, their spectral forms mirroring his tension. “We don’t know what comes next.”


    Styles crouched near the base of the structure, his daggers at the ready. “If this thing reacts like before, I’m guessing whatever’s inside won’t let us waltz in uninvited.”


    Gareth adjusted his shield, his expression grim. “Good. Let it try. I’d rather face something head-on than deal with more of those damn shadow-creatures.”


    Mason approached cautiously, his staff glowing faintly with runic energy. He peered at the structure’s surface, his gaze flicking to the faintly pulsing light within. “This isn’t just a barrier—it’s a warning. Something doesn’t want us here.”


    “Too bad for it,” Mia said, her twin Kia nodding silently beside her. The two of them exchanged a look, their determination unwavering.


    Kyle stepped closer to the crystal, his fingers brushing the hilt of his blade. The moment his foot touched the ground in front of it, the hum deepened, a low, resonant vibration that seemed to come from the earth itself. The crystalline surface rippled once more, and the distorted reflections vanished entirely.


    Instead, they were replaced by a single image: a vast, shadowed figure, its form barely discernible within a swirling void. It stood still for a moment, its presence oppressive and commanding, before it began to move—toward them.


    The hum grew deafening.


    “Get back!” Kyle shouted, raising his weapon.


    The crystal shattered outward, sending shards of light and energy spiraling into the clearing. The force knocked the party back, scattering them across the fractured ground. Kyle rolled to his feet, his clones springing into defensive stances beside him as dark shapes coalesced where the crystal had stood.


    The shadows took form once more, but this time, they were larger, more defined—towering humanoid figures with jagged, crystalline armor. Their glowing eyes pulsed in sync with the fading hum, and their movements were deliberate, as though each step carried immense weight.


    “We’ve got company!” Gareth roared, planting his shield firmly as one of the creatures lunged at him. Its crystalline claws raked against the shield with a sound like grinding stone, sparks flying with each impact. Gareth countered with a brutal swing of his mace, shattering part of its arm, but the creature barely flinched.


    “Kia, Mia, flank left!” Kyle barked, his own blade carving into another creature. The twins darted to the side, their strikes swift and precise, their teamwork honed from countless battles. Their blades met resistance against the crystalline forms, but they adjusted, targeting joints and exposed weak points.


    Mason stood at the rear, his staff glowing brightly as he unleashed bursts of elemental energy. Fire and ice collided with the creatures, slowing their movements, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. “They’re adapting!” he called out. “We need to break their connection to whatever’s powering them!”


    Styles, weaving through the chaos, locked his gaze on the jagged remnants of the crystalline structure. Among the shards, a faint glow remained, pulsing erratically like a dying heartbeat. He moved toward it, his daggers spinning in his hands as he cut down smaller shadow constructs that rose from the ground to block his path.


    “Kyle!” Styles shouted. “I think the core’s still active!”


    Kyle parried a heavy strike from one of the crystalline creatures, his clones countering with coordinated blows that left cracks spidering across its chest. “Mason! Give him cover!”


    “On it!” Mason shouted, a wave of runes spiraling outward as he created a protective barrier around Styles. The rogue darted through the shimmering shield, reaching the glowing core just as another construct materialized before him. With a growl, Styles leapt, driving his daggers into its chest and sending it crumbling into pixels.


    Reaching the core, Styles hesitated only a moment before plunging his dagger into the center of the light. The hum faltered, then surged into a piercing shriek that echoed across the clearing. The crystalline creatures froze mid-attack, their forms trembling violently before shattering into shards of dark energy that dissolved into the air.


    The clearing fell silent once more, save for the faint ringing in their ears. Styles stumbled back from the core, breathing hard. The glow had faded entirely, leaving only a fractured crystal shard that pulsed faintly in the dirt.


    Kyle approached slowly, his weapon still drawn. He knelt, picking up the shard and holding it up to the dim light. The pulsing was faint, but it was there, a rhythmic beat that resonated in his chest like a second heartbeat.


    “What do we do with it?” Gareth asked, his voice wary as he approached.


    Kyle stared at the shard, his unease deepening. “We keep it. This is part of the Rift. If we’re going to understand what’s happening, we need to figure out what it does.”


    “And if it’s dangerous?” Mia asked, her voice sharp.


    Kyle’s jaw tightened. “Then we find out how to stop it before someone else tries to use it.”


    The party regrouped, their breaths heavy but their resolve steady. As they turned back toward the forest, the shadows seemed less oppressive, the light filtering through the crystalline trees sharper but less menacing.


    But as they left the clearing, Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling that the shard wasn’t just a remnant of the Rift—it was a piece of something watching, waiting.


    And it wasn’t finished with them yet.