True World Origins is full of things to sink your time into.

  New areas expand every year.

  Rankings where players across the world compete for the top ranks.

  Seasonal challenges with limited items and monsters.

  Skill mastery systems that strengthen weapons and characters.

  Story fragments that deepen the lore.

  And—appearing only under specific conditions—overwhelming hidden bosses.

  The hidden boss of the First Island is the Gem Dragon, Pyroserix.

  Its scales gleam like rubies,

  and multicolored gemstones jut from its body

  like crystalline growths.

  Its temper is fierce, like molten magma,

  but the fusion of flickering flame and gemstone light

  makes it breathtakingly beautiful.

  Among all the characters and monsters in the game,

  it’s the dragon Crys loves most.

  If TO were truly built in the image of Emet Echad Olam,

  then maybe—

  just maybe—

  a dragon like Pyroserix existed here too.

  Enter a forest that might be crawling with bugs,

  or give up on ever seeing a dragon.

  Crys folded his arms and groaned,

  the way he hadn’t since being asked

  meat or fish on an airplane meal as a kid—

  and in the end, curiosity won.

  He started down the path toward the forest.

  A single road led on,

  a full, steady river running right beside it,

  and the old castle’s walls rising almost to the water’s edge.

  The castle seemed to have a courtyard;

  rounded treetops pushed up here and there

  from the corridors along the walls.

  It was unnaturally quiet for daytime,

  when animals should have been active.

  No shrill cry of a young squirrel calling for its mother.

  Not a single birdsong.

  Only the wind sweeping the grasslands,

  the splash of river water striking the bank,

  and now and then,

  the sound of Crys and TT kicking gravel.

  The closer they got to the forest,

  the less Crys spoke.

  Seeing him grow quieter, more downcast,

  TT glanced sideways and threw an arm around Crys’s shoulders

  with exaggerated flair.

  “Ad, you’re really stubborn.

  If you hate bugs that much, you don’t have to force yourself.”

  “It’s a dragon.

  Of course I’m forcing myself.

  If bugs show up, I’ll rely on you—same as in the game.”

  “I figured you would.

  So dragons get a free pass for you?”

  Crys tilted his head, not following.

  TT tilted his in return, as if they were mirrors.

  “You said you hate unscientific stuff.

  Ghosts. Santa Claus.

  By that logic, dragons don’t exist either.”

  “Dragons are…

  how do I put it…

  romantic?”

  The time when he believed in everything was long past.

  Of course he knew dragons weren’t real.

  That was precisely why he’d never really thought about it before.

  Looking up at the vividly colored sky islands—

  as if fantastical creatures might be darting through them—

  Crys searched for words.

  “Out of all imaginary creatures,

  dragons have the most refined form,

  the strongest presence,

  and more than anything,

  they ignite the imagination.

  I do hate unscientific things, but…

  dragons are in a different category for me.”

  “I get it.

  Dragons have something no other monster does.”

  “Boys really do love dragons.”

  Suguri slipped into their conversation.

  They hadn’t been walking especially fast,

  but her light, bobbing steps meant they caught up to her quickly.

  She let out a small sound, like a sigh that didn’t quite work.

  “In my country, every tourist spot sells keychains

  with a dragon wrapped around a sword.

  The only ones who want them

  are elementary-school boys.”

  “A dragon wrapped around a sword?

  That’s insanely cool!”

  “So you’re one of the customers, then.”

  Ah—Rokyu’s pendant.

  Crys didn’t say it out loud,

  but he realized his own taste, like TT’s and Rokyu’s,

  was still stuck at elementary-school boy level.

  TT, apparently convinced that the insanely cool keychain

  was genuinely excellent,

  turned to Suguri and asked—

  “Where are you from, Shu?”

  “Japan.”

  “Japan?”

  This time, Crys jumped in.

  “Do you read comics?

  I’m really into Japanese manga.”

  “I’ll read anything I can get.

  The ones people overseas know—Zero–Four, Rubeus’s Flame, Last Memory, and Ulysses.”

  “I love Ulysses too!”

  Not just knowing it—owning it—the moment the title came up, Crys lit up.

  “Time loops usually fall into the same patterns,

  but Jimmy takes what he learned before

  and clears the same events more efficiently,

  adds allies with each run,

  and just when you think you see where it’s going,

  it’s already a step ahead.

  I got pulled all the way to the end.

  It’s way further along over there, right?”

  “How far did you get?”

  “Right when Middleton basically joins.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It only gets better from there.

  Anything I say would spoil it.”

  Suguri crossed her index fingers into an X

  and pressed them to her lips,

  a quiet sign she was done talking.

  Crys felt a pleasant itch in his mouth—

  like he wanted to keep going.

  Come to think of it,

  this might be the first time

  he’d talked so easily about comics.

  Even with TT,

  with game friends,

  they mostly talked games,

  or school.

  In class,

  only Larry talked comics—

  and Larry,

  while not wrong,

  had decided Crys was a nerd,

  then treated him like proof he had someone to talk to,

  talked over him, and spoiled things without warning.

  Not a friend.

  Not really.

  Maybe it was just common sense

  in a culture that knew better.

  Maybe Suguri was simply thoughtful.

  Either way,

  knowing more and not flaunting it—

  that left a good impression.

  At first,

  TT listened with a shrug

  as Crys rattled off title after title.

  But when Crys leaned in too far

  and nearly tripped,

  TT caught him,

  exasperated.

  “Ad.”

  “Sorry, TT!

  Did I step on you?”

  “Finding someone who shares your taste is great,

  but watch where you’re going.

  You’ve got such good situational awareness in games.”

  TT glanced down.

  Clear sand marks

  stood out on his well-made leather shoes.

  Crys looked up, apologetic.

  TT smiled,

  just a little mean.

  “Even if a twig like you sat on me, I’d be fine.”

  Watching their easy back-and-forth,

  Suguri blinked,

  round eyes framed by fringe-like lashes.

  “You two are really close.

  Hard to believe you only met today.”

  “I think so too.”

  TT turned to Crys,

  smiling without reserve,

  then said to Suguri,

  a little too warmly,

  “Can you believe it?

  We were game friends already.

  Out of billions of players,

  meeting my closest friend

  here, in Emet Echad Olam.

  That’s a coincidence, right?”

  “Do you know True World Origins?”

  Crys asked.

  Suguri nodded,

  her hair—now brown and curled—swaying.

  “I don’t play,

  but my younger brother does.

  I know most of the characters.

  I like Havoc.”

  “I like Havoc too.

  That sarcastic edge—

  he reminds me of him.”

  “That’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

  TT smiled,

  just his lips,

  enjoying the reveal.

  Crys thought—

  between the two of them,

  TT felt more like Havoc.

  Not childish.

  Already closer to being grown.

  The scent of green deepened.

  The wind cooled.

  The forest drew near.

  Crys grew restless—

  glancing around,

  walking on his toes,

  as if bugs were already there.

  “Ad, don’t push yourself,” TT said.

  Crys shook his head.

  The pull of seeing a dragon

  still won.

  Even so,

  his steps shrank.

  Suguri asked,

  her voice soft,

  like biting into cotton candy,

  “You don’t like forests?”

  “I don’t like bugs.”

  Suguri yawned,

  mouth open,

  then stretched the word,

  finally getting it.

  “So that’s why

  you freaked out this morning

  when I called Lesa a caterpillar.”

  “Of course I did!

  I thought there was one!”

  “You were the only one.

  The other tables just didn’t know how to respond.”

  “So you were doing something that fun?

  I wish I’d been sitting with you.”

  “TT knows!

  I really hate bugs!”

  Pinned by Suguri’s gentle logic

  and laughed at by TT,

  who’d known forever,

  Crys sulked hard—

  arms crossed,

  face turned away.

  TT was still smiling.

  He patted Crys’s shoulder,

  then rested his forehead against his head.

  “Sorry.”

  Suguri tugged at Lesamin’s tail,

  who squirmed as if to say, “But I’m cute,”

  and spoke softly,

  as if smoothing the air.

  “Why don’t you like bugs?”

  “When I was little.

  Something happened.”

  Crys trailed off,

  remembering a family hike.

  Mid-mountain,

  the path carpeted

  with thousands—

  tens of thousands—

  of caterpillars.

  Stepping on them.

  Dozens.

  Hundreds.

  The soft pops under his shoes

  still rang in his ears.

  Seeing him shiver,

  TT shook his shoulder,

  pulling him back.

  “Some things take time to say.

  It’s fine.

  Bugs or Santa Claus—

  I’ve got you.”

  “I know that.

  There’s Santa Claus phobia.

  I get it.

  I can’t handle clowns.”

  “His isn’t really a phobia, though—”

  Crys looked away from Suguri’s seriousness

  and lightly kicked TT’s foot.

  From a distance,

  the Nahal Woods had looked dense.

  At the entrance,

  sunlight slipped between the trees,

  bright.

  Not shadows layered on branches—

  but light, multiplied by overlap.

  The forest glowed,

  a clear yellow-green.

  Each tree stood clean,

  no wasted branches,

  as if shaped with intent.

  Like the castle courtyard,

  like the grassland paths,

  it felt tended.

  The river beside them

  had narrowed since the castle,

  running along the road

  deep into the woods.

  It wasn’t the same as the Pearl Palace,

  but there was something sacred here.

  TT and Suguri stepped in,

  as if they hadn’t noticed at all.

  The Forest of Nahal

  was nothing like any forest Crys had known.

  The trees curved over the road and river in arches,

  just as they had from afar;

  light filtered through the leaves,

  showering everything in pale yellow-green.

  Sunlight slipped through the layered canopy in long strands,

  bright enough to feel dazzling,

  even deep inside the forest.

  With each step,

  a small breeze stirred,

  brushing his hands,

  his cheeks.

  The farther they walked, the scent of leaves and soil mixed with the river—

  clean,

  like the air after rain.

  There was little sound.

  Only the quiet flow of water,

  the faint whisper of leaves.

  Nothing more.

  It had been a long time

  since Crys had felt this kind of ease

  in a place so steeped in nature.

  He drew in a deep breath,

  as if tasting the air,

  filling his chest with the forest’s scent.

  TT followed suit,

  stretching with a long, satisfied sound.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve taken a walk like this.

  I’m glad you seem okay too, Ad.”

  From behind TT’s broad shadow,

  Suguri peeked out

  and asked Crys,

  “So—Theo’s been calling you ‘Ad.’

  That’s your game name, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Crys nodded.

  “Can I ask where it comes from?”

  “Administrator.

  It started as ‘Admin,’

  but too many people use that,

  so I shortened it.

  Ad.”

  “Using ‘administrator’ as a player name—

  that’s insanely cool.

  It already sounds sarcastic.”

  For some reason,

  TT jumped into the conversation,

  clearly pleased.

  Suguri looked up at him—

  a head or two taller than her—

  and asked him the same question.

  “And you?”

  “Games are as essential to me as tea time.

  So I took the initials.”

  “I drink tea every day too.

  Light milk tea when I wake up,

  cafés on my days off,

  light Ceylon candy at snack time.

  I can’t drink strong black tea straight.

  After meals, green tea or oolong.

  When I want to relax, fruit tea.

  Before bed, herbal tea.

  I think we’d get along.”

  “My tea time’s only once a day,”

  TT said lightly.

  “Though it lasts about three full rounds of high tea.”

  He laughed and winked at Crys.

  But Crys felt a dull weight spread through his chest.

  He tugged at TT’s sleeve

  and lowered his voice.

  “Should I start calling you Theo too?”

  TT froze,

  mouth slightly open,

  caught off guard.

  Crys leaned closer,

  murmuring even more quietly.

  “I didn’t know your real name,

  so I kept calling you TT.

  But now I do.

  And we’re probably going to spend

  a lot more time together.

  It feels kind of strange

  if we’re the only ones

  still calling each other by game names.”

  “To me,”

  TT said,

  not sharply,

  but with something faintly weighted,

  “you’re Ad.”

  Crys’s face tightened,

  as if he’d swallowed something sour.

  Am I only of use to you—

  only in the game?

  TT had said on the hill

  that he could only support Ad in the game.

  Crys had believed that meant

  he accepted not just the legendary player Ad,

  but also Crys—

  an ordinary high schooler

  with nothing special going for him.

  And yet,

  TT repeated it—

  as if to make sure.

  To me, you’re Ad.

  Not Crys and Theo—

  but Ad and TT.

  That was why they could stay close.

  It felt special.

  And somehow,

  lonely too.

  “There aren’t any bugs.”

  Suguri spoke suddenly.

  “No white-eyes. No bulbuls. No blue-and-white flycatchers.

  It’s too quiet.”

  “I don’t mind birds,”

  Crys said, scanning the too-quiet forest.

  “I just get nervous when they’re overhead.

  I don’t want to get pooped on.

  Do you know a lot about birds too, Suguri?”

  “Not really.

  I just end up remembering the names of cute things.

  I only know Cavalier King Charles Spaniels because they’re cute.”

  As she said it,

  Suguri twirled her brown hair—

  now like damp fur—

  as if lost in thought.

  “Speaking of Cavalier King Charles Spaniels,

  can I tell you something?”

  Before Crys or TT could even nod,

  she went on.

  “I don’t know if I can put it into words…

  I felt strange earlier.

  When Dimon was crying about the light in his eyes.

  He was making such a fuss, right?

  I was… not myself then.

  I felt sorry for him.

  Mocking someone’s looks is wrong,

  so of course he should’ve been stopped.

  And when he raised his hand,

  I had every right to defend myself.

  I don’t think I did anything wrong.

  It’s not that I wanted to apologize.

  But still—

  I wanted to go up to him,

  hug him,

  tell him it was okay.

  When Rone started talking to him,

  it was like I woke up from a dream.

  Like I’d noticed

  I was thinking something that wasn’t me.”

  “I get it,”

  Crys murmured.

  “Yeah,”

  TT said, nodding, almost as if he’d expected it.

  “Oh.”

  Suguri’s voice stayed dreamy,

  but something like surprise slipped in.

  “I thought it was just me.

  What about you two?”

  Crys answered first.

  “My head felt foggy.

  Seeing him isolated,

  even by his own group,

  I felt sorry for him.

  If Rone hadn’t shown up,

  I might’ve been the one to talk to him.”

  “Same for me,”

  TT said.

  “It felt like thoughts I wouldn’t normally have

  were being pulled out of me.”

  “You see,”

  Suguri continued,

  “I know I’m not a particularly good person.

  That’s why I try to be careful with how I act.

  But I don’t plan on just letting myself be hurt either.

  So even if his eyes hurt,

  he started it.

  I believe I didn’t do a single thing wrong.

  And yet—

  hearing his voice,

  it felt like that belief started to shake.”

  “A Koach was used on us,”

  TT said.

  Suguri, who had been holding Lesamin to her chest

  and staring straight into the forest,

  blinked and looked up at him,

  waiting.

  “Rone mentioned it too.

  That magic differs by Tseva.

  So magic that affects the mind—

  a Koach like that—

  wouldn’t be strange.”

  “So…

  does that mean

  he was trying to make us feel sorry for him?”

  “Hard to say.”

  TT shrugged lightly.

  “From how Dimon was,

  I don’t think he used it deliberately.

  More like—

  it just happened.

  A childish tantrum.

  Anyone, just comfort me.”

  “Then most of the kids back there

  felt the same way we did.”

  Suguri lowered her gaze to Lesamin,

  quiet in her arms.

  “I thought magic was simpler than this.

  Rone said magic here isn’t like fantasy magic,

  but if what shows up looks the same,

  I figured the difference didn’t matter much.

  But if magic can change how people feel—

  that’s nothing like the magic I know.”

  “Even in fantasy,

  magic that interferes with the mind

  isn’t that rare,”

  TT said easily.

  Hearing that,

  Crys remembered the boys on the castle bridge.

  How, with just a word from TT,

  they’d straightened,

  softened,

  like loyal soldiers obeying an order.

  “Did you use magic then, TT?”

  Crys asked quietly,

  glancing at Suguri, who’d gone silent again.

  “You’ve seen me use Coaf before.

  Which one do you mean?”

  “When we were heading from the hill to the Pearl Palace.

  Some people asked you to teach them magic.

  You said you’d be with me,

  so they should stay there—

  and they did.

  I wondered if you used mental magic too.

  If that’s why you realized right away

  what Dimon was doing.”

  “I told you, Ad.

  They were just being cooperative.”

  TT smiled,

  lifting only one corner of his lips.

  It didn’t quite sound true to him,

  but without certainty,

  Crys didn’t press it.

  “I guess

  we’re the villains,”

  Suguri said,

  letting out her soft, peculiar sigh.

  Crys and TT looked at her.

  “If everyone there

  felt sorry for him—

  and doesn’t even realize

  they were made to feel that way—

  then that sympathy,

  and the prickling guilt

  of not reaching out,

  will stay.

  Just like what they felt about you this morning.

  It’s easier for people

  to make someone an enemy

  than to look at themselves.”

  “I don’t mind being the villain,”

  Crys said.

  “I’m used to being misunderstood.

  If they leave me alone,

  that’s better.”

  “That’s not being used to it.

  That’s being worn down,

  and not able to face it anymore.

  Are you like that in Chutz too?”

  “Say more,”

  TT cut in lightly.

  “Lately he doesn’t listen to me at all.”

  Crys turned away,

  making a point of not hearing them.