Eren woke up to something soft pressing against his cheek.
A beak.
Not metaphorical. Not a euphemism.
An actual chicken was pecking his face.
He opened one eye and saw Henrietta standing on his chest like a smug dictator.
"...Why?"
She clucked once.
Then she spoke.
"The seed remembers."
Eren froze.
Henrietta blinked at him with unsettling calm.
Then clucked again and hopped off the bed like nothing had happened.
"…Nope," he whispered. "No. No. That didn't happen. I did not just get cryptic foreshadowing from a chicken."
[System Alert]
[Field Memory Synchronization Residue Detected]
[Result: Temporary Sentience Leak in Local Fauna]
[Side Effect Duration: 4 hours]
[Warning: Do not ask livestock philosophical questions. They may answer.]
Eren stared at the system prompt.
Then at Henrietta.
Who was now grooming herself like she hadn't just dropped ancient prophecy on his face.
He sat up and ran both hands down his face. "I miss Seoul," he muttered. "I miss traffic and convenience stores and people who didn't talk like cursed druids."
From outside the open window, the distant sound of a goat shouting "YOU ARE THE CHOSEN" echoed faintly.
Eren slowly closed the window.
Morning Routine
He stepped outside and found the entire farm glowing faintly. The soil shimmered. The air had weight. Birds overhead flew in perfect circular patterns, which was not normal.
Lira stood in the field, hands behind her back, watching it all.
"You broke the land," she said.
"I bonded with it."
"Same thing."
He knelt and touched the soil. It pulsed. Faint golden veins ran through it now.
"You're not just a player anymore," she said. "You're part of the system loop now."
"I'm part of the cursed hentai code," he corrected.
She tilted her head. "Romantic."
"I was being sarcastic."
"Still romantic."
Mira Visits. With a Basket. And a Look.
Later that morning, while Eren sat trying to sketch the memory field he'd seen in a notebook he stole from the tavern, someone knocked.
No. Someone barged in without knocking.
"Mornin', farmer-boy."
Mira stood in the doorway, hands on hips, dress slightly too convenient for bending over.
"Door was locked," Eren said.
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"Oops," she said, walking in with a basket. "Brought you bread and peaches. Figured you'd need energy after last night."
He stared. "What does that mean?"
She leaned close. "Whole village felt the pulse. Some people thought it was an earthquake. Others thought it was the gods finally climaxing."
"I hate this village."
"No you don't." She put the basket down. "You keep staying."
"Not by choice."
"Sure," she said, "but you could've left. You didn't."
He had no response.
Because she was right.
Mira's Mood Shift
She sat at the table, watching him sketch.
"You ever draw professionally?" she asked.
"No."
"You're good."
He looked up. Her tone had changed—softer, a little serious. The usual flirtation had dulled into something... watchful.
"You felt the magic too, didn't you?" he asked.
Mira looked away. "We all did. But I think I felt it more."
She reached into her blouse and pulled out a small pendant. It pulsed faintly in sync with the land.
"My grandmother used to say we had old blood," she said. "I thought it was just folklore. But..."
Eren leaned back. "You think you're connected to this place too?"
"I think," she said, eyes narrowing slightly, "that you showing up changed more than you realize."
And that scared her.
He could see it under her smirk.
[System Notification]
[Affinity with Mira: Slight Increase]
[Hidden Trait Detected: Spirit-Blooded]
[Note: Spirit-Blooded individuals may interact with memory fields unconsciously.]
[Warning: Be careful where you flirt. It might awaken lore.]
After she left, Eren sat for a while in silence.
Thinking.
Processing.
Wondering just how deep this world actually went.
What had started as a dumb hentai farming game was slowly unfolding into something... real.
Not just emotionally—but systemically. Mythology, roots, history—there was more here than lewd dialogue options and exaggerated physics.
And now, people were reacting to him like he was part of it.
Like he belonged.
He didn't know if that terrified him or thrilled him.
That afternoon, something bloomed in the north field.
It wasn't a plant he'd planted.
It looked like wheat—but with silver stalks and faint blue petals.
He walked over, cautious.
Lira joined him.
"That's memorygrain," she said.
"That's not in the database."
"Because it hasn't existed since the last system reset."
Eren crouched. "Is it safe?"
She scanned it. "Mostly. Eating it might trigger memories not your own."
"Okay. So definitely not breakfast."
She looked at him. "You've changed."
Eren didn't respond.
He just kept staring at the silver stalks swaying gently in the breeze like they remembered a time he didn't live through.
Evening. A Question.
That night, Eren sat on the roof.
Again.
Because roofs were safe. And gave perspective. And no chickens could reach him up here.
Lira floated up beside him, her hovering boots making no sound.
"You don't ask questions," she said.
"I ask tons of questions," he replied.
"You don't ask the real one."
"What's the real one?"
She looked at him. "Why you?"
Silence.
He looked at the stars for a long moment.
Then said, "Back in Korea, I was invisible. Clock in, clock out. Order ramen, eat alone. Pay bills. Repeat."
Lira watched him.
"I thought playing this game was a break," he continued. "A way to forget that I didn't matter."
He turned to her.
"But now I'm here. And the world bends when I touch it. People look at me. Like I'm someone."
He laughed, bitterly. "And I hate that I like it."
Lira said nothing.
Because there was nothing else to say.
[System Notification]
[You have unlocked a personal threshold: Self-Awareness I]
[Effects: Emotional choices may now influence memory fields.]
[Note: Who you are shapes what the world remembers.]
Eren sighed. "That's not ominous at all."
Then the wind shifted.
And in the distance, from the edge of the woods, he saw her again.
Selene.
Watching.
Silent.
Like the story hadn't even started yet.