***
beep
beep
"External interference eliminated. Initiating damage control. System Error. Restarting game program. System Error. Initializing new program. Hard mode activated."
The mechanical female voice cut through the central office, where staff crowded around monitors in a panic, its tone matching the sharp alert tone ringing through the room.
"It's impossible to fix," said a man in his late twenties, his voice heavy. "The new program Director Chile was working on was uploaded before it was finished. It has all the game data, but the core coding was never added—so the system filled in the gaps on its own." His expression darkened as he thought of the brilliant programmer, who had died in a car crash three months earlier.
When the incomplete program was integrated, it unexpectedly developed its own artificial intelligence and clashed with the existing system, causing a total breakdown. What's now running as "Hard Mode" is Director Chile's unfinished design. The team had hoped to test it as a new feature and eventually release it to players, but no one foresaw that its AI would merge with and overwrite the original code, creating an independent system beyond their control.
"Wait—if the core program is missing… does that mean basic functions like log-in and log-out aren't there either?" one person asked. The room went still as everyone realized the implication. "That can't be true, can it?"
Filled with dread, the manager picked up the phone. "Listen to me closely: track every player currently logged into WLO. There's a very real chance they won't be able to log out."
"Manager Keltsan," another voice reported, "from Director Chile's files, we found she adjusted the time ratio. It's 1:10—one hour in the real world equals ten hours inside the game. It's hard to connect it in the real time."
Manager Keltsan held his breath and grimly said, "Her program was almost perfect, except for those missing basics. She must have intended it only as an add-on for the already complete original system. But now the AI is autonomous—it makes its own decisions, and we have no way to intervene."
"All we can do is observe for now. But we have to inform the public and prepare for the worst. Thousands of players could be trapped until they complete the game under the rules of this new program."
"Will the company actually agree to make this public?"
"It doesn't matter what they want—we have to consider the consequences. The game capsules themselves are now linked to the new system too. It connected directly to the users' brainwaves. If we force a shutdown, what do you think will happen to the people inside?"
"They could lose their minds… or end up in a coma."
"Or worse—they could die."
The situation was far more serious than any of them had imagined. Going public could damage their reputation, but it would at least stop people from forcibly shutting down the game capsules out of ignorance—and prevent the tragedy that would follow.
When the news was made public, it sparked widespread outrage. Across the internet, voices raised demands and criticisms against the company—especially from those who had already forcibly powered down the game capsules, only to find their loved ones or friends had fallen into a vegetative state. Doctors confirmed that these individuals were clinically brain-dead, with no chance of recovery.
The company established a Care Management Unit to support all players trapped inside the game. Even so, condemnation remained strong, particularly from those who had already suffered losses. All the company could do was express its deep regret and provide financial compensation to the grieving families.
However, none of this mattered to Rouya Crowell. She had been wandering the endless rainforest for days, searching for an exit with zero progress. To make matters worse, she had realized there was no log-out button anywhere, leaving her feeling truly trapped inside the game.
"Blues, you're my virtual interface, right? So why is there no option to log out?"
She also still wondered why a pixie had been assigned as her interface in the first place. It felt like the broken system had tried to patch itself up, and when it couldn't be fixed, it simply added this new feature as a makeshift solution.
"I don't know," Blues replied, looking thoughtful—though a serious expression looked rather out of place on her tiny, cute features. "I have access to everything you need, except for the log-out function."
Having spent time together, Blues understood her role and had accepted how things worked. Still, it nagged at her; logically, a log-out button should exist, but she had searched through every menu and setting, and it was nowhere to be found. It just didn't make sense.
"By the way, there's something I find really hard to grasp too. The system doesn't have a standard respawn function. The three lives granted by the Divine Tree of Life are the only means of revival available, and every player has exactly the same limit. Once you've used all three, that's it—you die permanently, and the main game system will no longer recognize or support you. Coming back after death simply isn't possible."
"Then… if a player uses up all their revivals and gets abandoned by the system with no way to respawn, what exactly happens to them?"
"Without the main system's support, they'll eventually cease to function. They're treated like errors or glitches and removed from the main program. The only proper way for a player to leave the system is through a formal logout; any other form of separation is seen as unauthorized interference. And in those cases, the system will eliminate them entirely."
"But… every player is just a consciousness, right? If that gets destroyed, what does that actually mean?"
"I'm not sure, but the worst possible outcome is that it would mean true death."
"Is there any other way to find the logout button?"
"There must be a way. From the data I've collected from the main system, this is an updated version of the game with Hard Mode activated. Hard Mode is designed around survival challenges that have to be overcome or finished. It's likely the logout option will only unlock once someone successfully completes the entire game."
"Then… what's the main quest we need to complete?"
"I'm not sure yet—the system is still updating. Right now, our priority is to find a way through this forest. The default map only shows a general overview of the area, not precise details, so I can't give you an exact route. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. We'll figure it out eventually."
Yet what weighs on her mind most is what Blues told her. The fact that she is truly trapped inside this game is the core of everything they are facing. Well... it's not only her but every players within.
***