Perspective: Hana Takayama
Hana walked quietly through the forest.
The rhythmic sound of her steps barely disturbed the silence, yet every creature nearby seemed to sense her presence.
Small animals — rabbits, mana squirrels, even spirit foxes — vanished into their burrows before she could even glimpse them.
The air carried the scent of damp wood and freshly cut sap, mixed with the faint metallic tang of enchanted leaves that chimed like blades whenever they fell.
It was strange to think that, just a day before, this same place had been her battlefield.
The last day had been pure hell.
She had been hunted for hours — chased by nearly everything that breathed within that ancient forest.
Mana beasts, ethereal wolves, shadow birds — every creature seemed driven by a single instinct: to drive her out.
And Hana, stubborn as ever, had refused to retreat.
She fought until her virtual body screamed with exhaustion.
Until her fingers ached from drawing the bowstring.
Until her enchanted arrow count dropped dangerously close to zero.
But in the end, she won.
Or rather — she conquered.
The calm she felt now wasn't a gift from anyone.
It was the result of blood and arrows, of hours spent hunting and surviving.
By the time the artificial sun began to set and the servers announced the end of the cycle, the forest was no longer the same.
The small creatures now hid at the mere trace of her scent.
And the medium-sized ones kept their distance.
Hana had earned respect —
the kind of respect born from fear.
Of course, she knew that only applied to the weaker beasts.
In the lands ruled by higher-level creatures, that same scent that made her seem like a predator would become a provocation.
And if she dared to step into an alpha's territory, she would have to fight again — and this time, without guarantees.
But for now, in the neutral zones, her name meant something.
In that small corner of the Black Tower, Hana Takayama was the shadow with a bow — and no one dared to cross her path.
As she followed the trail, the wind played with her dark hair and made her cloak creak softly.
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, forming golden beams that moved with her.
If not for the urgency in her mind, she might have stopped to appreciate the rare serenity of the place.
Because, as much as she loved this kind of isolation — the silence, the scent, the mastery over nature — duty was calling.
A message had arrived the moment she logged in that fourth day:
[Alessio Leone — First Pioneers]
"Meet at the main portal of Eldenwall.
A new mission cycle ahead."
And as much as her pride screamed to stay and solidify her dominance over the forest, she knew she couldn't ignore it.
The group came first.
And whether she liked it or not, they depended on each other.
Sighing, Hana adjusted the bow on her back and quickened her pace.
Her every movement was light, almost feline, as she leapt over thick roots and moss-covered stones.
She glanced one last time at the now-familiar silent woods and smiled faintly.
One day, I'll come back. And when I do, this whole place will be mine.
But for now… duty was calling.
And Eldenwall awaited.
More than ever, Hana felt she needed to speed up her own evolution.
The path back to the city had become almost automatic — her feet moved on their own, light and sure over the damp ground — but her mind was elsewhere.
She was still trying to digest the conversation she'd had earlier that day with her sister.
Or rather, the interrogation she had endured.
Calling it a "conversation" was generous.
Hana had been practically kidnapped — dragged into a private meeting without warning and forced to answer a barrage of questions,
each more invasive than the last.
About the game's mechanics.
About NPC behavior.
About unexplored regions.
About the guild system and the internal market.
Her sister wanted to know everything.
And it wasn't sibling curiosity — it was the cold, calculating gaze of a business strategist, someone who treated the game as the next global power board.
Hana had tried to get away, but every time she said "I don't know," her sister just wrote something down in silence, as if that answer already revealed enough.
She had brought a small team with her — analysts, investors, even two professional players who'd been among the first recruited for the project.
It was clear her plan wasn't to play — it was to dominate.
What the Takayama sister was building wasn't a simple family guild — it was a virtual corporation.
And Hana knew exactly what that meant.
With every new detail she heard, her discomfort grew.
The names her sister mentioned — multinational companies, tech conglomerates, political organizations, even underground groups — were terrifying.
Some Hana recognized from the news, others she had never imagined would take interest in something like the Black Tower.
But the way her sister spoke…
So calm, so logical, so utterly certain that all of this was inevitable…
"Within a year, this game won't be just a game," she had said.
"It'll be an economy, a hierarchy, a war. And I intend to be at the top before the others even realize it."
Those words had echoed in Hana's mind ever since.
Knowing something big was coming was one thing.
But seeing the actual scale of it — watching people with real power moving, planning, investing, forming alliances, and buying influence — was something else entirely.
And it was frightening.
Now she finally understood what Alessio meant when he spoke about preparation.
He didn't see this game as a pastime, but as a battlefield with real consequences.
And for the first time, Hana realized how right he was.
As she moved through the trees, her body in perfect hunting rhythm, she clenched her hand around the bow.
Determination burned beneath her skin.
If she didn't accelerate — if she didn't evolve fast enough — she'd fall behind.
And in this game, falling behind meant being erased.
She couldn't let that happen.
Now, more than ever, she had to grow stronger.
She had to learn, to adapt, to survive — and above all, she had to trust Alessio.
Because of everyone she knew, he was the only one who truly seemed to understand what was happening.
The only one who saw beyond appearances.
She hoped that this "Tank" — this man who charged forward against everything and everyone — would be able to lead them through what was coming.
And for some reason she couldn't explain, she felt she could bet everything on that.
With each step, the sounds of the forest began to fade.
The wind, the leaves, even the faint rustle of nearby creatures — all seemed to quiet down,
as if the world itself bowed to her resolve.
Duty was calling her, but now there was something more.
A purpose.
And Hana Takayama was no longer just running back to the city.
She was running toward the future she needed to build — before the digital world itself turned into an arena of giants.