(Trauma Level: "Is this real or just a cursed DLC I never ordered?")
I slept.And that alone should trigger cosmic alarms.Because after a living pyramid tries to tattoo your soul with an Eye blinking like it's powered by hell's intermittent Wi-Fi…sleeping is not easy.
But my brain said:"You know what? I quit."And shut down the operating system.
Darkness.Silence.Peace.
Lasted five seconds.Max.Because of course. This is my life.
And there it was again:The pyramid.But now... a nightmare reimagined by an architect on acid with deep Lovecraftian daddy issues.
Breathing stones.Melting columns that forgot what physics is.Shadows whispering with voices made of stolen memories.Spoiler: not mine.
I walked.I didn't remember standing.But my legs were already in "non-consensual dimensional auto-exploration" mode.Hot sand beneath my feet.No floor.Ceiling spinning.Universe glitching.
And then…as if it had always been there:The Eye.
Massive.Fractured.Open.
With that same look sharks have when they see a finger floating.
It didn't speak in words.That would be too polite.It spoke in ideas.In mental commands.Like my consciousness had been rented out to a depressed screenwriter with a fetish for symbolism.
"The body is no longer enough.""The seal is within.""He sees you… because you saw him."
—
I felt a sting in my chest.Like a metaphysical bee had stung me from the inside.I looked at my arm.
And yep.There it was.A pyramid tattoo.Dark ink.Lines that seemed to breathe.Like a mystic Egyptian shaman with a hangover used me as his journal.
Below the collarbone:The Eye.Tattooed.Alive.Blinking.Ink that looked ready to scream, run, cry... or whisper secrets with terrible intentions.
And then, someone else.Not in front.Behind.Like they'd always been there.
Breathing.Not speaking.Hooded.Wrapped in broken light.Like a bugged-out angel that forgot how to render properly.
I looked.(No face.)But presence.Pride.Decay.Power.Trauma turned into flesh.
—"Sen…ku," I whispered.I don't know why.I just did.
He smiled.And vanished.Because of course.That's what metaphysical NPCs do when they get bored:they break your reality... and leave.
I woke up.Heart running on Windows 98 in safe mode.Mouth dry.Sheets soaked in sweat, fear… and pure WTF.
I sat up.Looked at my arms.
The tattoos were still there.Sharp.Dark.Glowing.As if they were about to whisper:"You're going to die… but let's make it meaningful."
I reached into my pocket.Because of course.I'm a narrative masochist.
And there they were.
Four diamonds.Small.Cold.With that cursed relic energy that comes with warnings written in extinct languages and collectible trauma.
—"What the hell…?"
I got dressed like someone fleeing a failed exorcism.Stumbled down the stairs.Each step taxing me astrally.
And there he was.The guide.Smoking.As always.With that look of:"I warned you, but you didn't sign anything."
We stared at each other.
—"The pyramid…," I started.He raised a hand.
—"It's gone."
Silence.I blinked.He exhaled.
—"I came back this morning.There was nothing."—"Nothing?"—"No entrance. No stones. No trace. Just sand… and that strange smell."
—"What does a deleted history smell like?"—"Dust… and failure."—"Failure?"—"Like someone edited the world… and forgot to save properly."
—"You're saying…?"—"I'm saying," he cut in, with the tone of a philosopher done with reality,"the pyramid you visited yesterday… no longer exists."
And me...Renji Kurogane.
Ex-cop.Archaeologist without credentials.Now the container of a seal even the gods won't touch without gloves.
I just stood there.Trembling.
Because the Eye had opened.And reality was staring back.