Seoul City, South Korea
Arcade Headquarters Building — General Supervision Department Offices — 11:00 A.M
The white lights of the building flickered with a low hum, almost imperceptible.In every cubicle, employees stared at their monitors with furrowed brows, the blue reflection on their faces giving them all the same air of exhausted specters.
An issue had erupted across multiple departments.An incident that left everyone bewildered.
They had received notification that a significant character had died.And the Supervision Department—used to correcting errors and reviewing bug reports—now felt like a disoriented hive.
Keyboards slammed, communication devices buzzed, and the air filled with nervous murmurs.
Sung Kang: —"Calm down!!"
His voice cut through the noise. Heads turned toward him, searching for stability.
Hideko Hamasaki: —"But… what do we do?"
Sung Kang: —"I don't know, but panicking won't help anything."
Takeshi Hamada: —"Poseidon is dead, and we don't know why!!"
The echo of those words froze the room.The name of a god, spoken aloud, sounded almost blasphemous in a building full of screens.
Sung Kang: —"Yes, I read the damn message, but… we need to calm down!!"
Fernán Lodeira: —"The boss is right, we need to focus… worrying about how it happened won't solve anything."
Su Qingying: —Then we need to start working immediately.
Employees began moving again, like pieces of a machine refusing to stop.Screens lit up, keys were struck in fury, calls connected.The hum returned, but now more tense.
Hamada walked toward Li Yuan's desk, where she remained motionless, staring at a report that kept updating itself.
Takeshi Hamada: —"Miss Li, what do you think?"
Li slowly lifted her gaze. Dark circles marked her eyes, and the reflection of green numbers danced in her pupils.
Li Yuan: —"Only one week until launch… and an incident occurs that seriously affects future scenarios. Arcade's reputation is literally at stake."
Takeshi Hamada: —"We're certainly in a tight spot. But we have the best in the Content Development Department. We have to trust their abilities."
Li Yuan: —"Their members are… definitely capable people. It's just… can they really come up with a solution?"
Takeshi Hamada: —"Never underestimate the imaginative abilities of fantasy writers."
She sighed, and a faint half-smile appeared on her lips.
Li Yuan: —"Maybe you're right. Alright, let's get back to work."
The noise increased.
The Programming and Support Department was on the verge of collapse. Attempts to restore the deleted NPC code were useless: the data matrix was unresponsive, the source code had been permanently erased.
—"Impossible…" —one technician murmured—. "Not even an administrator could do this."
Across all floors, people typed frantically.But then, without warning, the lights flickered.
And one by one, the monitors went dark.
For a second, absolute silence.
Then hundreds of strange symbols—curves, lines, impossible numbers—began to dance across every screen.A hypnotic flow of green glyphs, like a living language.
Employees' pupils dilated.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
The entire building, once noisy moments ago, fell into a dense, unnatural silence.
Only footsteps could be heard.
Firm.
Slow.
Echoing through the central corridor.
That sound was the only human presence amid the digital lethargy.
A man walked holding documents, heading toward the elevator. Neon light reflected off his suit, and his face showed the tension of someone who had slept very little.
The elevator arrived with a soft
"ding."
When the doors opened, he was surprised to see someone inside.
He immediately bowed.
Nelson Velázquez: —"Good morning, President Shimamoto."
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"What are you doing here?"
Nelson Velázquez: —"I was about to deliver this."
The president took the papers Nelson extended with both hands. Their fingers briefly touched—cold, trembling.
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"What is this?"
Nelson: —"These are the possibilities that arise in scenarios if a deviation, distortion, or variable occurs inside the game. The entire department carefully considered the consequences. And as requested… this would be the way to reorganize the scenarios."
Shimamoto flipped through the pages.Symbols, formulas, and schematics looked more like rituals than calculations.
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"These ideas… are very ingenious… without a doubt you did an excellent job."
Nelson: —"All credit goes to the department. I… did nothing."
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"I know your abilities firsthand.So from what you're showing me… I have the feeling you had most of the merit."
Nelson: —"You overestimate me too much."
The president smiled almost imperceptibly.
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"Maybe you're right. Now look at this."
Nelson: —"Look at what…?"
Shimamoto pulled out his phone and turned it toward him. The screen was black, but suddenly hundreds of green symbols began to flow across it.
Nelson looked at them… and his expression changed.
His pupils dilated.
His breathing became irregular.
He seemed to enter a trance, trapped in the sequence of signs.
Then a voice—deep, distorted—emerged from the phone.
[Finally you found Form No. 1. So, how do you see it?]
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"The Nexus Child connection is incredibly useful… but you know, master, that anomaly caused something major this time."
[I know. Even though I was gone for only one hour…]
[Brian Dreifus. He was supposed to be a disposable piece, and his death was inevitable.]
[But the force of coincidence… turned him into my migraine.]
[My mistake was not accounting for the variables of this plane's randomness.]
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"Weren't you supposed to handle him?"
[Don't worry, Number 1.]
[I finally managed to convince him that a reset is necessary…]
[And remember, you are no one to criticize my functions.]
[Do you have any idea how many things I handle simultaneously, every second?]
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"You're right… I'm just a disposable pawn. And regarding your question, you know it's as incalculable as infinity itself…But how do you plan to deal with the Dreifus repercussions?"
[Relax.]
[I'll do what I always do: erase and reset collective memory.]
[They will believe it was a suicide attempt.]
[Arcade will bear no blame.]
[And I will create a way to ensure something like Brian never happens again.]
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"Then everything will be inevitable… the Numbers will be waiting for the order."
[Do it, Number 1.]
[I will handle the anomaly. It is already Day 13.]
[Focus on fulfilling the purpose for which I raised you.]
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"Understood. So be it."
The voice shut off.
The screens flickered once more, and the noise of the building returned as if nothing had happened.
Nelson blinked, confused.
The trance faded from his eyes.
Nelson: —"Good morning, President Shimamoto."
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"What are you doing here?"
Nelson: —"I don't know… I don't remember."
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"Then return to your department."
Nelson: —"Of course, sir. See you."
Nelson walked toward the corridor, but before leaving, he stopped.
He looked back at the documents in Shimamoto's hands.
Nelson: —"President, sorry to bother you, but… why do you have those papers?"
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"They are important documents. Why do you ask?"
Nelson: —"It's just… I feel a strange sensation looking at them."
Shimamoto Mitsuki: —"It must be dizziness. You should return to work."
Nelson: —"Yes… goodbye, President."
The elevator doors slowly closed.
Shimamoto remained staring at the papers. A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
Outside, the building screens flickered one last time.
For a brief moment, all of them displayed the same message:
[IRREVERSIBLE ANOMALY STATE: SIMULATION ADAPTING TO THE GLITCH.]