When Adyr took off the game helmet, the soft glow of candlelight filled his vision. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was already 8 PM.
He plugged the helmet in to charge, waiting for the power to return, then went through his usual workout routine and headed downstairs.
The scene was familiar. In the softly lit living room, Marielle had returned from work and was resting on the couch, clearly exhausted. Niva sat at the table, buried in her books, quietly studying.
Noticing her brother, Niva looked up and asked with a curious, slightly surprised tone, "You're still playing the game, brother?"
"Yes," Adyr replied as he slowly took a seat.
Her blue eyes widened, visibly lighting up. "Wow, you're so close to being famous then."
Adyr chuckled. He knew what she meant. She'd probably been reading forums and posts about the game—about how low the survival rate was, and how few players were still active.
Not wanting the conversation to go any deeper, he casually picked up one of the open books in front of her and began helping with her work.
While the two siblings studied together, Marielle quietly approached. Placing a gentle hand on Niva's head, she asked with a warm smile, "How's it going, hmm?"
The fatigue in Marielle's eyes was obvious—she clearly needed rest. But it was just as clear that she wanted to spend at least a little of her time with her children.
Still, Adyr noticed something else. A subtle shift in her tone, a faint tension in her movements—signs of something more on her mind. He didn't press her, though. If she wanted to talk, she would.
After a bit of light family conversation, Marielle finally said what had been weighing on her. "I'll be away for a few days. A week at most."
Niva immediately turned her head, eyes wide with concern. "Why?" She asked, worry plain in her voice.
Seeing her daughter's reaction, Marielle gently stroked her head again, trying to soothe her. "There's a village about a day outside the city walls. An informer told us there are children there in poor condition. We're going to check the situation—and if possible, bring those in need back to the city orphanage."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Everyone knew what it meant to leave the city. The moment you stepped beyond the walls, the world changed.
Unlike the structured safety of city life, what waited outside was chaos, filled with people who had nothing to lose, and nothing they wouldn't do to survive.
Noticing the shift in mood, Marielle gave a quick smile, trying to ease the tension. "Come on now, no need to worry. It's not my first expedition—you know that."
"But the longest you've been gone was two days," Niva said immediately, her voice rising as her eyes began to well up. "And you never went this far."
"I know, I know. But really—don't worry," Marielle said, her tone gentle. "Besides, STF will be escorting us. They'll make sure nothing goes wrong."
It was clear she trusted them. After all, the STF(Superhuman Task Force) was the city's most capable and well-equipped force.
"Still," Niva said, clearly unconvinced. Her eyes shifted to her brother, hoping he'd say something.
But Adyr remained silent.
He knew that no matter what he said, it wouldn't change anything. Marielle's sense of duty and her instinct to protect children ran too deep.
Only one sentence felt right in that moment. "Just make sure you're careful."
"Haha, I will—don't worry," Marielle said with a laugh as she pulled her son into a hug. She'd always known Adyr carried a quiet wisdom beyond his years—and once again, he understood her without the need for many words.
Her gaze shifted to Niva—her sweet, worried daughter—and she gently reached out to her as well, holding them both close.
"There are so many children out there… not as fortunate as we are. Just waiting for a single adult to reach out and change everything," Marielle said softly, her tone tinged with sadness, especially for Niva's sake.
Niva glanced at Adyr, almost instinctively. He had once been one of those children. And every day, she was grateful he was now her brother. That was why she couldn't bring herself to argue anymore.
All that remained was a simple, heartfelt request. "Just make sure they're safe… and you too."
After lifting the weight off her shoulders and receiving her children's quiet support, Marielle stayed with them a little longer. They talked, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company for hours. Eventually, as the night wore on, everyone retreated to their rooms.
---
"STF, huh…" Adyr murmured as he lay in bed.
Victor's offer echoed in his mind. If he joined this new division and gained an identity like the STF, the potential advantages were clear. He weighed the possibilities in silence and eventually drifted off to sleep, those thoughts still circling in his head.
—
When morning came, Adyr got up and followed his usual routine. He watched the sunrise for a few quiet minutes, did some light exercise, spent a bit of time in the bathroom, then went downstairs to prepare breakfast for his family. He brewed tea for them, made himself a bitter coffee, and returned to his room.
Opening his laptop, he browsed through social media and forums to check for any new information about the game. Although the game was still trending and riding the hype, there wasn't much he could use. No one had mentioned anything about genetic mutations either. For a moment, Adyr found himself wondering if the government was actively suppressing that information.
The only notable update he came across was that production and sales of game helmets had been halted. Apparently, helmets of players who died in-game had also ceased functioning entirely, and refunds were being offered to those who requested them.
There was even an official statement from the City Manager, openly apologizing for the technical issues and admitting they had failed to meet the public's expectations.
They're trying to kill the hype, Adyr speculated.
The Twelve City government, which had once played a major role in promoting the game's success, now appeared determined to declare it a failure and shut it down completely.