Real World – Dhaka, Bangladesh
The hallway was unusually silent as Zihad walked toward the front door. Each step echoed in his ears louder than it should have. Zidan followed close behind, holding his breath as they approached the visitor.
Their mother stood by the door, her eyes flicking between Zihad and the stranger standing on the other side. He was tall, sharply dressed in a black suit, his hands clasped behind his back. Despite the early morning light, he wore tinted glasses. A sleek black car idled behind him.
"Are you Zihad Rahman?" the man asked in perfect Bengali, but with an accent that didn't quite belong.
Zihad narrowed his eyes. "Depends. Who's asking?"
The man didn't flinch. "Mr. Rahman, my name is Akash Roy. I represent an international research division of Google, specializing in immersive tech and artificial intelligence. We're investigating an anomaly that's been recently flagged—connected to a game called Dream Land Fantasy."
Zidan's breath caught.
Zihad didn't respond. He simply opened the door wider.
"Come in."
Akash stepped inside, his shoes silent on the tile. He didn't glance around. He wasn't here to admire the house.
"Do you know anything about these anomalies?" Akash asked, stepping into the living room. "We've detected several unregistered subroutines operating within Dream Land's live environment—activity that even our administrative tools can't trace."
Zihad crossed his arms. "Sounds like a developer oversight."
Akash turned to him. "Not when these subroutines exhibit sentient logic. Not when they're manipulating event flags and altering biome access beyond any coded permissions."
There was a long pause. Even their mother could sense the weight of the conversation and quietly excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the brothers with the suited man.
Akash continued. "More importantly, the ones most affected aren't casual players. It's those who are deeply synced with the immersion system. People who've spent hundreds of hours inside the world."
"Side effects?" Zihad asked.
"Dreams, hallucinations, premonitions. One user in Korea claimed they met an NPC from the game in a real-life dream and couldn't wake up for three hours."
Zihad's fingers clenched.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
Akash slowly removed his glasses. His eyes were dark and sharp.
"Because your player ID — Phantom Reaper — is at the center of the data storm."
Zidan's jaw dropped.
Akash continued. "You've accessed locations no one should have reached. Triggered events no one else has triggered. And most importantly… the anomalies follow you like a trail."
Zihad said nothing for several seconds.
Then, finally: "Are you here to shut me down?"
Akash smiled faintly. "No. If I wanted you shut down, I'd have done that remotely. I'm here with a proposal. Help us monitor it. Log it. You're clearly already investigating this phenomenon. But now it's crossed the line between curiosity and global concern."
Zihad nodded once.
"I'll think about it."
Akash returned the nod, slipping his glasses back on. "You have until next week. After that… higher-level decisions will be made. And not by me."
He walked toward the door and paused. "Also… be careful. Whatever's evolving inside that world—it knows you."
And with that, he left.
Game World – Dream Land Fantasy
The swamp was in ruins.
Zihad logged back in after a short rest, his real-world conversation with Akash heavy in his mind. The guardian beast he'd fought hadn't respawned. Instead, its massive corpse lay smoldering in the heart of the Obsidian Mire, surrounded by glitching terrain and warped skyboxes.
But it wasn't the visual chaos that unsettled him.
It was the text box that remained floating in the air above the dead creature:
[???: "You killed what was never meant to die."]
He tried to interact with it, but the message faded like mist before he could.
His character, Phantom Reaper, walked slowly toward the corrupted worldstone that pulsed in the center of the swamp. When he placed his hand on it, the entire game flickered for a heartbeat — and then a new window opened.
[Fragment Acquired: The 4th Pillar's Memory]
You have uncovered a memory locked by the original Dev.
This fragment was not part of the game. It is a trace of the creator's will.
Zihad's eyes widened.
The original Dev? But I am the only dev…
Except, of course, he wasn't. Not anymore. The game had started rewriting itself. And now… it was writing back to him.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned — and froze.
It was the same NPC that had once begged him for help in Chapter 8. But now her model had changed. Her eyes glowed with awareness. Her voice was different.
"You came back," she said.
"You remember me?" Zihad asked.
She nodded. "You changed my fate. You shouldn't have. Now I see the strings."
Zihad stepped closer. "Who are you, really?"
"I don't know. But I hear whispers. From the real world. From your world."
The temperature in the zone dropped.
"I think…" she said slowly, "I think we're starting to dream."
And then she vanished.
Real World – Zihad's Room
Zihad ripped the headset off, breathing hard. He felt sweat on his brow and panic rising in his chest.
She'd said it out loud. Dream. That word wasn't part of her script. Not even close. And what she meant by "your world"…
Zidan knocked on his door again. "Bro, you okay?"
Zihad looked at him through the slight reflection in the monitor.
"No," he whispered.
"This game… it's becoming more than a game."
End of Chapter 21