Hacking the Game Didn’t Go as Intended

Daisuke suddenly stopped in his tracks.

From where he stood, he noted that his house was shrouded in darkness, and to make the scene even more ominous, he spied a flicker of movement—a swift shadow retreating from the front entrance of the house.

Daisuke dropped his sack. The fruits and vegetables inside scattered on the ground. His stomach twisted with dread as he bolted toward the house and charged into the bedroom.

Moonlight suffused the cold chamber from the open window. His mother was on the bed, her features bathed in its soft light. And she was breathing.

Still very concerned for her well-being, he hurried to her side, his footsteps quick and anxious. Suddenly a soft, telltale crunch echoed under his shoe, causing him to halt. Bending down, he inspected the source of the sound, revealing a small, rectangular vial with a rounded bottom. A hint of purple liquid clung to the interior, marking its ominous nature—a color often associated with poison.

“…”

Daisuke’s heart fell into a state of wild palpitations, panic gripping him as he turned his attention back to his mother. Her cheeks were flushed and her breaths, labored.

Gently, he reached out, brushing her forehead to gauge her fever. Her skin was warm to the touch, and unyielding lines of worry creased his forehead at that realization.

She’s burning up! he thought, a sense of helplessness gnawing at him. “Hang in there! I’ll fetch some water!”

Before he could make a move, his mother’s frail hand gripped his, her fingers weakly coiling around his wrist.

Her voice, though faint, carried a sense of urgency as she panted, “It’s too late.”

Daisuke’s heart sank at her words. He saw the struggle in her eyes, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon them both.

“I don’t have much time left,” she whispered, her voice a fragile thread. “…Come closer.”

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and Daisuke bit his lip in anguish. In video games, he always made it his point of duty to have «antidotes» and other «potions» stocked in his «inventory». But, in this world, the power of a player had somehow eluded him.

Why? Why was this happening, again?

Daisuke held his mother’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as they faced an inevitable farewell, the reality of the situation hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m… so sorry… for being so stubborn and stuck in my ways,” she whispered repentantly. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… give you the life you deserved.”

Daisuke frowned with a dejected smile. “Why are you speaking in the past tense? I’ll definitely figure something out; we’ll make it past this and work together to turn our lives around.”

The woman gave a wanly smile. “Is there anything… you would like to ask me?”

Daisuke’s eyes widened. He was taken by surprise by the unexpected question, but he knew exactly what to say. “…What’s your name?”

“Evandria… Evandria Starfrost,” she confessed with a light titter, and then a cough.

“Mom!”

“I’m…I’m fine,” she managed, her voice weak. “But I thought… you would ask a more personal question. Though… I suppose it’s better if my past… fades away along with me. Delving into it… would only cause more harm than good.”

Letting go of his wrist, she gently placed her hand atop his, her eyes softening with affection. Daisuke’s eyes widened in contrast, because standing on the other side of the bed now—in what looked like a surreal projection—was his biological mother and father. They held each other’s hands, their expressions filled with empathy and compassion.

As Evandria spoke, Daisuke felt the heartfelt words resonate as if they were directed from his real-world parents. It wasn’t merely a figment of his imagination; they were undeniably real.

“Thank you for being our son,” Evandria’s voice echoed in a soothing and ethereal tone. “Thank you for making us the happiest parents in the world. We’re so very proud of who you’ve become. Your world may seem bleak right now, but we know you will eventually find serenity.

Don’t blame yourself for what’s happened, and for what’s to come; simply persevere. Keep forging ahead, and never lose hope. In time, you will find a place where you truly belong.”

Evandria weakly cupped the side of his face, her long silver hair kissed by moonlight. Daisuke found himself drawn into her deep blue eyes, lost in their depths.

“We love you so much,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “We hope that... in time, you will find a love that burns just as brightly and true as ours did for you.”

Evandria smiled softly, then closed her eyes and took a gentle, labored breath, her lips parting slightly to sing a familiar melody.

 

In shadows deep where dreams may weep,

A cradle of stars, a soul to keep.

Through sorrows vast, the moonlight cast,

Whispers soft, a memory’s grasp.

 

Hush, my child, the night is kind,

Embrace the echoes left behind.

Stars dance in skies, where teardrops lie,

A lullaby for a soul to fly.

La-La-La, La-La-La…

 

“You will… always be my little firefly.”

With that final, heart-wrenching utterance, Evandria’s hand slipped away and the gentle glow of the apparitions waned into obscurity. The room, once filled with the presence of those he loved, suddenly turned eerily silent.

Daisuke’s eyes quivered, his very core trembling under the weight of the moment, his breath uneven, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation.

The somber darkness of the bedroom encased him like a shroud. And then, in the midst of his grief, he released a howl that echoed through the night—a lamentation woven from the threads of sorrow, anguish that reached beyond the confines of his own pain and into the very soul of the world.

***

 

Several days had passed since Daisuke had been away mourning his mother’s passing, and the troop, Brek in particular, grew increasingly impatient for their leader’s return to organize another heist.

They were all gathered by the hideout, sitting around the remnants of a large bonfire.

“At this rate, we might have to resort to scavenging for food at the garbage dump again,” someone proposed, the mere idea leaving a sour taste in their mouth.

“…”

“…”

“Ehh~? Do we really have to start doing that again?”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“Kinda sucks switching from fresh fruits back to rotten ones.”

“We won’t have to,” Brek declared firmly, capturing everyone’s curious gaze. “We’ll do a food run on our own.”

“…”

“What? But we’ve never gone on a food run without Big Bro before!”

“A-Are we going to be okay?”

“I don’t care, count me in. Anything’s better than going back to garbage!”

“I... I don’t know.”

Brek frowned, his gaze falling to his clenched fist. “A few years ago, if I had more food, my little sister wouldn’t have starved to death,” he murmured, his voice tinged with sorrow and determination. “I won’t let that happen to any of my friends.”

“Brek!” Mia interjected, trying to cool the fire his words had evoked. “We’ve never gone on a run without Haxks before. Until he gets back, we could ask the farmers to spare us some food; they’ve just started their harvest.”

“Mia’s right; they owe us big time!”

“We provided them with the seeds for their crops, after all.”

There was an obvious void between those who supported Daisuke and those who sided with Brek. But the Wolfkin didn’t back down.

“Taking from the farmers isn’t enough,” he retorted. “What about everyone else?”

Mia frowned. “You seem to forget that our goal is to teach the people of the slums about responsibility and taking initiative,” she countered firmly. “We’re not here to spoil them.”

“But until that lesson is learned,” Brek retaliated. “We can’t just let them starve now, can we?”

“The slum folk are more resilient than you give them credit for; they’ve been making ends meet long before we started helping them. Besides, my point is that going on a run without Haxks is dangerous.”

“She’s right, Brek!” another voice chimed in. “Haxks is the leader for a reason—he’s the one with the brains that made all this possible!”

“Argh! Haxks! Haxks! Haxks!” Brek pushed to his feet in a rage. “Can’t you idiots think on your own? Have you ever stopped to think that he may not actually come back? His mom just friggin’ died!”

“…”

“…”

“And what if he ever gets caught on a run?” Brek added, his voice tinged with urgency. “Do we just roll over and die? We have to learn to take charge on our own if that ever happens!”

Mia looked around in dismay. It was clear that Brek’s words had struck a chord; the majority of the troop had rallied around him, eager to follow his lead. Only the scouts who felt the most pressured on the food runs refused to take part.

 

Fear of monsters & the unknown: 74.8%