Thanks to the golden-haired boy, the twins finally had clothes on their backs.
At least now they wouldn't have to deal with their parents asking questions—why they'd come home half-naked, bruised, late, and smelling like alley dust.
When they reached their residence, both of them slowed without meaning to.
They looked up before going inside.
The sky above the Dawn Walls was dark.
Not nighttime dark.
Unnaturally dark.
Toxins drifted from the countless factories embedded directly into the walls themselves—endless chimneys breathing poison into the air. Every wall had factories. Every factory served its faction. The four major factions each controlled at least three walls, and each wall housed hundreds of thousands of people.
These walls weren't just barriers.
They were cities.
Cities that rose like steel mountains—layered, packed tight, humming with machinery and desperation.
The factories produced everything the faction needed: food supplements, building materials, weapons, technology…
But the cost was painted across the sky.
Thick clouds of pollution swallowed the sun, turning daylight into a permanent gray haze. Clear blue overhead was rare—and when it happened, people stopped walking just to stare like they'd seen something sacred.
It put everything into perspective.
How far the toxins spread.
How massive the walls truly were.
And despite all that size?
Each wall only had one school.
That was Dawn's design.
One shared education. One shared structure.
Almost every student knew everyone else. Familiarity made bonding easier—especially when the time came to leave the wall and face whatever waited outside.
Jordan opened the door.
Inside, their parents were in the living room. The TV played softly. Their mother slept on the couch, head tilted awkwardly, exhausted in a way sleep couldn't fix.
Their father sat nearby, eyes half-lidded, watching the screen like it was the only thing keeping him awake.
"Well," he said without looking away, "you've been gone for quite a while."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"School ended a long time ago. Where have you two been?"
Riven answered first, too fast.
"We were just out with some friends."
It was a lie—one told gently. He didn't want to add worry on top of the weight they already carried with double shifts and side work.
Their father snorted.
"You don't have any friends."
Riven clutched his chest dramatically, stumbling back like he'd been shot.
"I have—no, we have—a lot of friends."
Jordan shot him a look that screamed Are you stupid?
Their father finally turned his head.
"Name one."
Riven didn't even hesitate.
"Joey."
Jordan's eyes widened slightly.
They barely knew the kid. Sure, Joey helped them once… but that didn't make them friends.
"Joey?" their father repeated.
"Yeah," Riven said quickly. "Yellow hair. Nice guy."
Their father hummed in that skeptical way that meant I don't believe you, but I'm too tired to argue.
"Okay," he said. "Sure."
Then he leaned back and sighed.
"I'm never gonna be a grandfather, am I?"
Jordan stiffened instantly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing," their father said, waving it off like it wasn't loaded with meaning.
The twins headed to their room after checking the fridge.
Empty.
Nothing but old containers and expired rations.
Their house wasn't big. No upstairs. No extra rooms.
Just one bedroom for the twins.
If you could even call it a bedroom.
Two mats lay on the floor with a thin strip of space between them. That was it.
With four people working under one roof, that was all they could afford.
Still… one thing eased their minds.
Once they left for the Academy, their parents wouldn't have to pay for them anymore.
No food costs. No supplies. No schooling fees.
For the first time in years, their parents could focus on themselves.
Jordan dropped onto his mat, staring at the ceiling, clearly drowning in thought.
Riven moved to the closet and pulled out the old VR headset.
"That thing still hasn't died yet?" Jordan asked, glancing over.
"Nope," Riven said proudly. "I've been saving the battery. Been looking forward to this too much."
Jordan smirked.
"Still can't believe you pulled that from the Pile."
The Pile.
That was what people called it when Beyonders—also known as Adventurers—dumped their discarded gear. Not trash like food or clothes. Actual equipment.
Tech. Tools. Salvage.
Every three months, massive transport trucks dropped loads of junk and "junk" into each section of the Dawn Walls.
Sections A, B, C, and D.
The twins lived in Section A.
Since there was only one school, kids from Sections C and D had to take buses—cars if their parents were lucky enough to own one.
Cars were rare.
That was why streets always looked empty, and why people walked close to the road like they weren't allowed to take up space.
When Riven first found the headset, it was damaged—obviously broken enough for someone else to toss aside.
But Riven still brought it home.
At first, his plan was simple.
Fix it.
Sell it.
A working VR headset could bring in more units than most people saw in months.
It took him a year.
A full year of scavenged parts, trial-and-error, and quiet work late at night.
Before telling his parents, he decided to test it.
The headset still had a few games installed.
The moment he put it on…
He fell in love.
He'd only ever played old, two-dimensional games. Retro. Blocky. Decades out of date.
But VR?
He could move.
He could breathe inside the world.
For the first time, Riven felt like someone else entirely.
Even then, he stuck to the plan.
Sell it. Help his family.
When he finally told his parents, they agreed at first. Selling it was the smart move.
Then they saw his face when he talked about it.
They saw how much he loved it.
So they told him to keep it.
Riven hesitated—because he wanted to see them smile even more than he wanted a game.
But they were smiling.
Because their son was happy.
Because he had something they never could've afforded—something that let him escape, even just a little.
So Riven kept the headset.
He started visiting the game store daily, hoping to find something worth playing.
Most of the games were garbage.
The ones that weren't?
Too expensive.
And he didn't even have a charger—once the headset battery died, it died. No recharging. No second chance.
So when he finally found one game worth the risk, he didn't hesitate.
Legend of the Evolver.
He knew it wouldn't hit Dawn shelves for years—one year for Beyonders, another year delay for Wallborn access.
So he got a job.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he hated asking his parents for anything when they were already drowning.
When the game finally released for Wallborn, there was a line—long enough to surprise him.
Then he realized.
Most of these people didn't even own VR headsets.
They were buying the game to resell it.
Cheap.
Quick.
Probably not legally.
Riven didn't want to think about it.
He didn't want to get involved.
Now he lay on his mat—his "bed"—the headset strapped to his face, the game card slid in.
The screen loaded.
One thing Dawn actually provided was free WiFi.
The problem was… almost nobody had phones.
There wasn't even a phone store inside the walls.
To get one, you'd have to exit the wall, buy it outside, then return.
And the cost to enter and exit alone was more than most phones were worth.
"See you in a bit," Riven mumbled as his eyes closed.
"Yeah," Jordan said, lying still, thoughts circling like vultures. "See you in a bit."
⸻
When Riven opened his eyes again, he didn't see a stained ceiling.
He saw a bright blue sky.
A real one.
Something he rarely saw in fifteen years.
He sat up slowly, blinking like his eyes didn't trust what they were seeing.
Grass stretched for miles.
The air smelled like roses—fresh, blooming, unreal.
Warmth touched his skin.
And the sheer normalness of it felt so foreign that his throat tightened.
A tear slid down his cheek before he even realized it.
Any normal person would've rushed to check quests, grind levels, chase loot.
Riven didn't.
He didn't have enough time.
And even if he wanted to slash monsters—
Right now?
He just wanted to breathe.
He laid back down in the grass and stared up at the sky like it might disappear if he blinked too long.
After a few minutes, he forced himself up.
Then he noticed something.
His body felt… lighter.
He looked down.
No stomach sticking out.
No heaviness.
His body looked toned—like he'd been training for years.
Before he could process it, a ping sounded.
A gray envelope appeared in midair.
Riven stared at it.
He reached out and tried to tap it.
His finger passed right through.
He tried again.
And again.
On the fifth attempt, a second screen popped up beside the envelope.
[To access the system, user must say "open" to, well, open the system. I thought this would be known already and didn't need to be added, but I guess I was wrong, and you, my sir, are an idiot.]
The screen vanished.
Then another appeared.
[System: New title unlocked — The Idiot]
[When this title is worn, the user gets a Dunce Hat.]
Riven's eye twitched.
"They didn't have to be such a jerk about it," he muttered.
He inhaled.
"Open system."
The envelope unfolded like paper turning into a window.
A new page displayed.
[System Quest: Kill 15 wolves]
[Reward: 100 EXP and 5 copper coins]
"Copper coins," Riven muttered. "So this place has currency too."
A big red arrow appeared in his vision, pointing toward the forest.
He stared at it for a moment.
Then a breeze rolled over him—warm and gentle.
And he made his decision.
Instead of running toward violence…
He was going to enjoy peace.
At least for a little while.
⸻
Back in the real world, Jordan paced their room for two reasons.
One—making sure Joey hadn't stolen anything.
Not that there was much to steal.
Two—making sure Joey hadn't planted anything.
Cameras. Microphones. Anything.
After a few minutes, Jordan found nothing out of place.
No hidden tech.
No wires.
No traps.
When he sat back on his mat, he realized the sun had gone down.
"Let's see what I can make for dinner," Jordan muttered. "Hey, Riven, you want anything?"
He already knew he wouldn't get an answer.
When Riven wore that headset, it was like his body shut off.
Only Riven could wake himself up.
Jordan's eyes drifted to his brother's face.
Then he smirked.
He went downstairs and came back with a black marker.
"This is the only marker we have," he whispered, "but this is so worth it."
He started drawing.
Mustaches. Lines. Words across the forehead.
By the time he finished, he was laughing quietly to himself.
Then he froze.
Something was off.
Not the marker—Riven's expression.
When Riven slept normally, there was always discomfort on his face. Like even rest didn't sit right with him.
But right now?
No frown.
No groan.
Just calm.
A faint smile.
Jordan stared, tapping Riven's head gently.
"What the hell are you doing in there?" he whispered.
⸻
Far away, inside a forest of towering trees, monsters roared and steel flashed.
A party of five had just brought down a massive green creature—red tattoos spiraling up its body, tusks jutting from its mouth.
An orange-haired man wiped sweat from his forehead as the others celebrated behind him.
[System: You have defeated 20 high-end orcs]
[Reward: 10,000 XP and five gold coins]
"All right!" another man shouted. "I finally got to level fifty!"
"Oh, that's so cool!" one of the girls said. "Doesn't that mean you can learn another evolution?"
The man nodded excitedly.
"My current evolution is fire. I'm thinking something that works with it—wind, smoke… I'll decide when we get back. All I know is we couldn't have done this without you, Cass."
"Huh?" Cass replied distractedly, eyes on his own system.
One of the girls stepped closer. "Where'd you find it again?"
Cass blinked. "Like I told you—mythical chest. Found it while traveling. No boss nearby, no players nearby. I was gonna store it in inventory and leave, but I opened it in a safe zone."
His eyes gleamed.
"It boosted all my evolution ability levels by two. Since I already had an ability before joining the game, I can't get a second one until level seventy. So I used it now. My evolution skill's level seven."
He exhaled.
"Still gonna take months of grinding to push it to eight."
In Legend of the Evolver, there were two kinds of players.
Those who entered the game without abilities.
And those who entered with abilities in real life.
If you had no ability, the game let you pick a basic one—fire, ice, earth, lightning, air, or water—and you could unlock another once you hit level fifty.
If you already had an ability?
You kept it.
Somehow, the headset knew what you were and copied it into the game.
But the trade-off was brutal.
Players who already had abilities couldn't unlock a second one until level seventy.
To balance the difference, they were granted a small XP buff.
1.50x.
Cass closed his system and sighed.
"Not to be greedy," he muttered, "but I know I used up all my luck finding that mythical chest… still, I really wish I'd found a system chest."
One of his teammates snorted.
"Dude, if you found a system chest, you wouldn't be here. Hell—if it was easy to find, nobody would even play this game."
They glanced toward the horizon, like the world itself was hiding secrets.
"Instead, they'd be enjoying their newly acquired power in the real world."
A System Chest was unlike anything the world had ever known.
It was the reason Legend of the Evolver sat at the top of the VR leaderboards even years later.
No other game matched its realism.
Its danger.
Or the rumors that followed it like a shadow.
What players didn't know—what Riven certainly didn't know—was that not all VR headsets were the same.
Most people thought VR was just visuals. A fancy screen strapped to your face.
They were wrong.
When a headset powered on, two tiny needles slid from the inner lining and pierced the scalp—so thin you barely felt the sting.
One needle acted as a receiver, reading movement, reflexes… even intent.
The other was worse.
It transmitted sensation straight into the brain—sight, sound, touch, smell… and pain.
It didn't simulate reality.
It replaced it.
The world wasn't rendered in front of your eyes.
It was implanted as an illusion inside your mind—so complete, so vivid, that your body forgot there was ever anything else.
And then there was the System Chest.
No one knew how it worked.
Some theorized there was a third needle hidden deeper in certain headsets—something buried where nobody would ever check. A needle that implanted something far more dangerous than illusion.
The System Chest allowed a player to bring something back into the real world.
An item.
An NPC.
Even an ability.
Most people didn't even know System Chests existed. Only those tied to powerful guilds, elite factions, or top-ranked adventurers had heard the whispers.
And fewer still had ever seen one.
⸻
A sudden BOOM tore through the forest.
The four players snapped toward the sound instantly.
Smoke drifted between the trees.
And in the ruined undergrowth, a figure stood where the explosion had ripped the ground open—a boy with short, pitch-black hair wearing plain, starter armor.
"Who's that?" one of the girls asked, frowning.
"Probably some high-level idiot screwing around," another replied.
"No way," the third cut in. "Look at his gear. That's beginner equipment—the stuff you spawn with."
The first girl's eyes narrowed.
"That doesn't make sense. This area's for level one hundred and above." Her voice dropped. "Some of us almost died getting this far. The only way to kill NPCs here is with items and tricks."
She stared harder.
"How did he even survive long enough to reach this place?"
Above them, hidden in the branches, Riven pulled himself free from a tree and dropped lightly to the ground.
He blinked, disoriented, still feeling the echo of impact and heat in his bones.
He'd been running blindly for what felt like forever—no direction, no plan, just sprinting until his legs stopped burning.
He'd told himself he'd log out once the battery hit five hours.
He checked the display.
Seven hours remaining.
Two more hours, he thought.
Enough time to let Jordan take a turn.
Enough time to just exist here a little longer.
When he finally noticed the group of four staring at him, he raised a hand and gave a stiff, awkward wave.
"Sorry," he called out. "Did I interrupt something? I'll just—uh—get out of your way."
Then he turned and jogged off in a random direction like nothing was wrong.
Cass's gaze sharpened.
"Lock on," he said calmly.
His eye glowed faintly green as data flickered across his vision.
Riven's status appeared instantly.
Cass blinked.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "That confirms it."
The girls glanced at him, noticing his tone.
"Something wrong?"
Cass hesitated, then shook his head.
"No," he said slowly. "It's just…"
He looked back at the direction Riven ran.
"He didn't pick an ability."
The girls stared.
"…That's weird."
⸻
Riven sprinted through the forest, breath steady despite the chaos behind him.
He'd already died ten times.
After the first death, he turned off the pain receiver.
The feeling of being gutted by an orc had been too much—sharp, vivid, real. The kind of pain that threatened to ruin the entire experience.
Dying without pain didn't make it easy.
But it made it bearable.
The orcs were the reason.
Again and again they caught him, chased him down, tore him apart.
But through trial and error—and a lot of reckless running—he'd somehow pushed this far.
Riven leapt onto a thick branch just as movement shifted below.
An orc stomped through the brush, unaware of him.
From his vantage point, Riven didn't freeze from fear.
He froze from awe.
The sun was setting.
Golden light spilled through the trees, turning the forest into deep oranges and dying reds. Riven rarely slowed down long enough to notice beauty—especially not inside the Walls.
Here?
It felt like the world was letting him breathe.
Just for a moment.
He exhaled and opened his system.
"I picked up a few items on the trip…" he muttered, scrolling. "Hey. I'm missing some of them."
A message popped up instantly.
[System: The user loses items and EXP upon death. I thought you would've known this. Did you even read the manual on the back of the box?]
Riven's eye twitched.
"…Okay," he muttered. "That explains it."
He checked what remained.
Two potions—both pulled from common chests he'd found along the way. Somehow, these had survived his deaths.
[System: Common Item — Lucky Potion]
Increases drop rates from quests and chests.
[System: Uncommon Item — Super Lucky Potion]
Same effect as Lucky Potion, multiplied by 1.75.
[System: Rare Item — Double EXP Potion]
Doubles EXP gained from quests.
[System: Rare Item — Double Coin Potion]
Doubles coin gained from quests and chests.
Riven shrugged.
Luck had never been his strong suit.
If there was ever a time to fix that, it was now.
He drank both lucky potions.
Warmth spread through him almost instantly—subtle, but real. Like the world tilted half a degree in his favor.
With that done, he moved again, tracking the direction the orc had come from.
That's when he saw it.
A crude fort.
Wooden spikes. Uneven walls. Torches flickering between stacks of logs and bone. The whole place looked stitched together with violence and bad carpentry.
"Woah…" Riven whispered. "A camp. There's gotta be items in there."
He slowed as several orcs emerged from inside, laughing in rough, guttural voices.
Riven slipped into the bushes and held his breath.
"I wonder why no one comes over here," he murmured. "This doesn't seem that hard to sneak into…"
His eyes tracked the perimeter.
Searching.
Calculating.
Then he saw it.
A thick branch stretching out over the camp like a bridge.
Riven climbed.
At first, climbing had been hell. The first few hours his arms burned, his grip slipped, and every mistake sent him falling.
But this body—this athletic body—was starting to feel natural.
He eased himself along the branch until he was directly above the camp, looking down at the wood-and-bone fort like a thief staring at a treasure room.
And for the first time since spawning…
Riven smiled.
"Okay," he whispered.
"How am I going to do this?"