Ren wandered aimlessly, letting his feet carry him through the familiar streets of the Starting Town.
The cobblestone pavement beneath his feet reflected the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long, ethereal streaks of light.
A gentle breeze swept past, carrying the scent of aged wood, the faint aroma of toasted bread from a small roadside eatery, and the familiar sounds of the town, the hurried footsteps, the lively chatter of player groups, the repetitive greetings of NPCs.
He lifted his gaze, eyes drifting toward the closely packed wooden rooftops, where the evening sun was painting the windowpanes in a soft, amber glow.
A wooden sign hanging outside a small blacksmith's shop swayed slightly in the wind, creaking in a low, rhythmic manner.
This place had not changed, not even a little. It remained still in its own way, untouched by the passage of time, despite the countless players who had once walked these very streets.
This place… was the same.
The same cobbled paths he had once walked as he fumbled his way through this world.
The same NPCs, repeating their scripted lines over and over, never changing no matter how much time passed.
The same players, rushing past in a hurry, accepting quests, shopping for supplies, leaving again… all of them had one thing in common:
None of them stayed for long.
Ren had never given that much thought before. He had always seen the Starting Town as a safe place, a natural resting point.
But now, standing amidst the ever-moving crowd, he realized something simple, he was one of the few who had yet to leave, with no plans to move on.
His fingers tightened slightly around the hilt of his sword.
Staying in the Starting Town forever… was not an option.
Sooner or later, he would have to leave. To venture farther. To face greater challenges.
If he didn't, he would remain stuck in place, forever weak, forever nameless, forever walking in the shadows of others.
At first, it was just a fleeting thought, a spark flashing through his mind.
But the more he thought about it, the clearer it became, taking root deep inside him, like a seed sprouting in silence, unnoticed until now.
Perhaps… it was time for him to leave too.
Ren exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the quest board mounted on the large wall near the Central Square.
The parchment notices, their edges slightly worn, fluttered in the gentle breeze, catching the last rays of daylight.
His eyes skimmed over the engraved text, familiar beginner quests, mid-level missions requiring a party, recruitment notices for expeditions beyond the safe zones.
Maybe he should take a quest that led farther out. Not too dangerous, but enough to familiarize himself with the outside world.
He took a step forward. But just then.
"You're still hanging around here?"
A deep, familiar voice called out from behind, pulling Ren from his thoughts.
He turned.
Gareth stood there, arms crossed, his stance relaxed, but his sharp gaze remained unchanged.
The man's deep blue eyes swept over him, carrying a hint of appraisal, as if evaluating something.
Ren blinked. He hadn't expected to run into Gareth at this moment.
"…I don't have any reason to rush," he replied, his voice calm.
Gareth raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving into a half-smirk.
"Really? I thought you'd have plenty of reasons by now."
Ren frowned.
"…What do you mean?"
Gareth didn't answer right away. He simply studied Ren for a moment before letting out a slow breath.
"Follow me. There's something you should see."
Ren narrowed his eyes.
"What is it?"
"You'll know when you get there."
Without waiting for a response, Gareth turned on his heel and walked away, his pace unhurried, like he was certain Ren would follow.
Ren stood still for a moment, biting his lower lip. He had no idea what Gareth was up to, but something in his gut told him… he should go.
So, he walked.
Silently, Ren followed Gareth, his footsteps blending into the familiar noise of the Starting Town.
The hues of sunset had begun to fade, giving way to the pale purples of twilight.
Street lamps flickered to life, their soft golden glow stretching across the cobblestone, casting long shadows behind them.
Gareth said nothing the entire way, nor did he look back.
He simply walked with an air of ease, one hand casually tucked into his coat pocket, as if it didn't matter whether Ren followed or not.
Ren didn't ask any more questions. He merely observed, trying to guess where Gareth was taking him.
It didn't take long to realize, they weren't heading toward the town gates or the quest board. Instead, they were moving deeper into the western district.
Ren frowned slightly.
The western side of town wasn't unfamiliar to him. It was home to most of the equipment shops and blacksmith forges, as well as the alleyways that led to the training grounds behind the city.
But at this hour, most of the shops had already closed, leaving only a few stray figures wandering the streets.
At last, Gareth came to a stop in front of a small, unassuming building nestled in a quiet corner.
Ren halted just behind him, glancing up.
His brows furrowed.
"What is this place?"
Gareth didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pushed the door open and stepped inside first, leaving Ren standing outside.
A moment's hesitation passed through Ren's mind. But then, as if drawn by some unseen force, he tightened his grip on his sword and stepped forward.
For a brief moment, his feet hesitated right at the threshold.
He had expected Gareth to bring him to a place related to combat, some hidden training ground, a harsh proving ground, or at the very least, a blacksmith's forge where the sharpest blades were forged.
But instead, he found himself standing before a modest, old building, quietly tucked away in the western district's shadows.
There was no sign hanging above the entrance. No trace of a guild or any powerful organization.
No quest board mounted on the walls. Only a plain wooden door and the warm golden light spilling softly from the window, a light so peaceful, so out of place in this world, as if behind that door, Aincrad's brutal reality did not exist at all.
Gareth didn't offer any further explanation. He simply pushed the door open and stepped inside first.
Ren pressed his lips together slightly, his gaze lingering on the door for a brief moment.
He could turn away. He could refuse to step in, pretend he had never seen this place, never heard the faint creaking of the wooden door as it slowly closed before his eyes.
But he didn't.
He wasn't entirely sure why, but something, curiosity, instinct, or a vague sense of unease, made him lift his foot and step over the threshold.
Immediately, another sound echoed through the room.
Laughter.
Soft, clear, and as light as the chirping of birds on an early morning.
Ren froze again for a moment.
In front of him was not a guild hall for warriors.
It was not a gathering place for the strong, preparing to conquer the next floors. It was not a place filled with weapons or treasure.
It was a small, warm room where children sat together.
They huddled around a wooden table, engrossed in old, worn books or simple toys.
Some of the older ones were helping the younger ones tie their shoelaces, while another carefully fixed a doll with a loose arm joint.
There were no swords or weapons here. No tactical charts or battle maps.
No tense atmosphere of adult players constantly calculating every move to survive.
Only clear, innocent eyes. Tiny hands. And laughter—light, pure, and heartbreakingly innocent.
Ren held his breath.
He knew that young players had been trapped in Aincrad alongside them.
But seeing them with his own eyes, watching those tiny hands turn the pages of books, hearing their childish giggles echo in this cold world…
Suddenly, something inside him tightened.
At some point, his hand had clenched into a fist at his side.
Gareth remained standing in the corner, arms crossed, his gaze heavy as he observed Ren's reaction.
"These children are also… Plae... Players... just like you," he said, his voice calm but heavier than usual. "They share the same fate as all of you. But unlike you… they can't protect themselves."
Ren bit his lower lip.
Of course, he understood that.
To survive in Aincrad, players needed to fight, to grow stronger, to overcome the challenges of each floor.
But what about these children?
They had no combat skills. They couldn't wield a sword and charge into hunting grounds alone or form parties with strangers. They couldn't find ways to survive on their own.
They still had families to return to.
And if no one fought to clear Aincrad… these children might remain trapped here forever, until...
Ren abruptly stopped.
He didn't want to think about that.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions surging in his chest.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake off the weight pressing down on him.
"…Why did you bring me here?" he asked quietly, his voice dry.
Gareth didn't answer right away. He simply looked at Ren for a long moment before speaking slowly, each word heavy as stone.
"I thought you already had enough reasons to leave."
Ren opened his eyes.
He didn't respond.
But his clenched fist trembled slightly at his side.