Under the vast night sky, Nautilus sat quietly beside the dying embers, his light brown eyes reflecting the flickering glow before darkness completely engulfed their small campsite.
The fading warmth of the fire was nowhere near enough to ward off the cold creeping into his body, just as it failed to fill the emptiness within him.
He never thought he would spend a night outdoors like this.
At this moment, he was supposed to still be in the Starting Town, holding on to the sense of security offered by its stone-paved streets and towering walls that separated him from the dangerous world beyond.
They would have stayed in the safety of the town after being repeatedly rejected by other player groups…
But then Ren appeared. And like an unstoppable current, his presence had pulled Nautilus and Yuna out of their comfort zone, pushing them into an unfamiliar place, no shelter overhead, only the night, the vast open fields, and the vague unease creeping into every breath.
Everything felt too real.
Too empty.
Too quiet.
There were no more lively conversations of players passing by, no warm glow spilling from tavern windows, no familiar clanking of a blacksmith's hammer striking metal.
Only the soft whistling of the wind over the grass, the occasional crackle of embers, and his own breath merging with the darkness.
Nautilus was well aware of his own shortcomings. Watching Ren face everything with such calmness and decisiveness only made their gap even clearer.
Ren walked with an unreadable composure, never panicked, never hesitated, never wavered in the face of danger.
And him? He was like a child, constantly trying to act cool and confident, but his youthful face and frail frame always betrayed him, trembling in front of monsters, even when they were lower level than he was.
He knew it.
And he hated it.
From the moment he stepped into this world, Nautilus had thought of it as an opportunity to change.
A different life. A fresh start.
A place without the limits of reality, where he could become stronger, fight without fear.
That was why he loved games, because in that world, there were no barriers he couldn't overcome, no one imposing limits on him except himself.
But everything had changed too quickly. Too cruelly.
A game at the peak of modern technology, with just a short announcement, had turned into a living hell.
Death here was no longer just a meaningless number on a screen. It was the end.
At first, he told himself that as long as he was careful, as long as he avoided danger, he could survive.
Nautilus had spent days upon days in the training yard, repeating the same sword swings over and over, determined to master them before stepping outside.
He believed that if he prepared enough, he would be fine.
But reality was much harsher. No matter how determined he was, that paralysis,
that overwhelming fear, was always lurking in the shadows, waiting for the moment a real threat appeared.
And the second it did, it swallowed him whole, suffocating his body, robbing him of the ability to move, drowning him in the deepest fear.
He had convinced himself that time would change things. That eventually, he would overcome it.
But every time he faced danger, his first reaction was always the same.
Freezing up.
Helplessness.
It kept happening, over and over, like a cruel reminder that he was still just weak.
He had thought he could hide it, but he didn't need anyone to say it...
he knew Ren had noticed.
His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palm, but the dull pain did nothing to suppress the frustration churning inside him.
He didn't want to be weak.
He didn't want to be left behind.
But… if he kept going like this, how far could he really go?
His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the land disappeared into the pitch-black darkness.
This world was so much larger than he had ever imagined.
Stronger players.
Terrifying monsters.
Unimaginable dangers waiting ahead.
Just the thought of it made his heartbeat quicken, a faint unease spreading in his chest.
But at the same time, something else stirred in his mind.
A faint urge.
A small, fragile desire, but one that refused to disappear.
This time, he wasn't alone.
He had Yuna, his childhood friend who always believed in him, who never abandoned him no matter how weak he was.
And now, he had Ren.
A quiet, unreadable figure, but the one who had pulled him out of his safe zone, whether intentionally or not.
He wasn't sure if Ren truly saw him as a teammate.
Maybe, to him, Nautilus was just a clumsy, useless burden.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was...
He still had a chance.
Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he straightened his back, inhaling deeply,
letting the icy night air fill his lungs, as if trying to etch this feeling into his very being.
No matter how long this night was,
he wouldn't let it consume him.
Nautilus glanced at Yuna, peacefully asleep by the small fire, her thin cloak wrapped around her like a fragile shield against the cold night.
Her face was peaceful, her eyelashes gently closed without a trace of worry, but that image did nothing to ease his mind.
On the contrary, a heavy sense of regret welled up within him, tightening around his thoughts like an invisible chain.
He was the one who had pulled her into this world.
He recalled their childhood days, when they used to run together under the sun, when Yuna would beam with joy every time he came up with a new game.
She had always been an important part of his life, the childhood friend who had never abandoned him, the one he had always secretly loved but never found the courage to confess to.
When the real world pushed them onto separate paths, when the distance between them grew wider, he had thought this was his chance.
Aincrad had opened before them, a new beginning, free from the pressures of reality, free from the limitations of the body, free from the invisible barriers that had kept them apart.
He had told himself that this time, he would be stronger. This time, he wouldn't let her slip away.
But he was wrong.
The world he had once seen as an escape had turned into a deadly trap.
It was not a safe place for trial and training. It was a battlefield.
A prison.
And death here was not just a number on a screen or a loss that could be retried, it was final.
Instead of protecting Yuna, he had thrown her into this place.
He had promised to bring her back safely.
Sworn that he would become strong enough to protect her.
But what had he done so far, other than hiding in the training yard, convincing himself that if he just mastered enough skills, if he just prepared enough, then one day, he would be able to fulfill that promise?
But reality wasn't that simple.
No matter how much he trained, no matter how many skills he acquired.
When faced with real danger, his body still froze.
Even when his mind screamed at him to move, to fight, his instincts shackled him to his fear.
In the moment that mattered most, he was still useless.
And Yuna, she trusted him.
She had followed him into this world without hesitation, placing her very life in his hands, unaware that even he couldn't control himself when standing before death.
His fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging into his palm until pain shot through his skin.
His gaze lifted to the endless night sky, where cold stars shimmered in the vast emptiness.
He didn't want to live in regret.
He couldn't keep running away.
Even if he was weak, even if his old promises seemed like empty dreams, he would hold onto them.
He pulled his cloak closer, shifting slightly to shield Yuna from the freezing night air.
At the very least, in this moment, he could still protect her in the smallest way possible, a gesture that meant nothing, yet was the only thing he could do right now.
And he swore, he wouldn't let everything end here.
Nautilus glanced at the system clock.
His watch was over.
He should wake Yuna, let her take the next shift, but in the end, he remained still, his eyes quietly watching the dwindling flames before him.
The fire flickered weakly, its orange glow casting shadows over his hands, revealing the fresh calluses formed from days of training.
He flexed his fingers slightly, the rough texture against his skin reminding him of reality, that this was no dream, that this game was no longer a place where he could simply press "Log Out" and return to his old life.
He tilted his head, his gaze settling on Yuna's face. She was still deep in slumber, her breathing steady, her cheeks slightly flushed beneath the folds of her cloak.
In her sleep, she looked so peaceful that it made his chest ache.
Nautilus exhaled slowly, his hand unconsciously reaching out, but as he neared her, he hesitated.
He didn't want to wake her. Not because he feared she'd be upset, but because... at least for tonight, he wanted her to rest.
So he quietly withdrew his hand, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he sat there, listening to the wind whisper through the distant trees.
He would take her watch.
...Just a little longer.