The Color of Guilt

  "Join them," Sam said, his voice echoing in Aryan’s skull.

  Aryan wiped the blood from his Dark Matter bde. "What?"

  "Exactly what you heard. Join them. Since she was a lower Rank than you, and you killed her... take her badge. Take her identity. Walk into their Guild and cim her seat."

  Aryan frowned, looking down at the corpse of the bone-armored woman. "That's a stupid gamble. What if they find out we are siblings? What if they have scanners?"

  "They won't know," Nine interjected, their voice calm and precise. "You are a Seer. You unlocked a new Sub-Skill during the fight. Check your status. You can now 'Mask' your signature. Trick them."

  Aryan hesitated. He looked at the alien brothers and Jay, who were still staring at him in shock.

  "What about them?" Aryan asked.

  Before Sam could answer, Amara turned to the group. Her eyes were cold, her daggers already sheathed.

  "We move alone," she announced. "Don't follow us. Stay here as reinforcements. If you come with us, you are a burden."

  The Rank 3 and 2 brothers and Amara’s group opened their mouths to argue, then closed it. They looked at the crater Aryan had made on the floor. And they just nodded.

  "Let's go," Amara said.

  They moved fast.

  The destination unlocked in their Systems was three hundred miles north. As they crossed the ndscape, the pnet revealed its true face. It was a mess of contradictions.

  One mile, they ran through forests of crystalline trees that hummed with beautiful, natural energy. The next mile, they were trudging through gray ash, stepping over the skeletal remains of bombed-out skyscrapers. It was a graveyard trying to pretend it was a garden.

  "How can this broken pce be linked to our cure?" Aryan asked, jumping over a rusted tank.

  "I'm not sure," Amara said, her eyes scanning the horizon. "But the System doesn't lie about loot."

  "System Update," Sam interrupted. "You are entering the Outer War Zone. Use this travel time to stabilize. The Greed Vessel has removed your limits, but your lifespan is dropping faster than a rock in a well. You have 41 days left."

  "Power has a price, kid," Sam drawled. "You used Dark Matter. Amara used Ptinum speed. The clock speeds up when you burn bright. The only way to survive is to find the Cure."

  "Good," Aryan said, gritting his teeth. "I need practice anyway. I won't end up being a burden to Amara."

  "Status Updating," Nine added. "The 'Hell Training' rewards are still pending calibration. Make this day equal to a seven-day training montage. Push yourself."

  Aryan looked at his hands. "But wait. I can't just sy anyone we meet. I'm not a murderer. What if I end up killing an innocent soldier?"

  "As for that..." Amara slowed down. Her eyes flickered gold, scanning the distance. "You'll understand soon. No. You'll see it yourself. Look."

  Aryan frowned but activated his Seer Eye.

  Three Hundred Miles North.

  They stood on a ridge overlooking a massive valley. Below them, thousands of soldiers were cshing. Energy beams tore through the sky. Explosions rocked the ground.

  Suddenly, rapid text appeared in front of Aryan’s and Amara's eyes. It wasn't the usual blue box. It was red, jagged, and urgent. It wasn't Sam speaking. It wasn't Nine. It was the System itself.

  [Target Located.]

  [Calcutions Complete: The Checkmate Piece is identified.]

  [Lore Update: The war between Hunters and Demons has mutated. The corruption has infected the pnetary System itself. People are born with a directive: Kill your Kin to Level Up faster.]

  Aryan felt sick. The "Rule" the brothers spoke of... it wasn't a w. It was a virus in their status screens.

  [Success Condition: The two brothers you spared are the anomaly. Their survival triggered this update. To generate the Cure for your own 41-day curse, you must save this pnet from its own System.]

  [Directive: Purge the Corrupted.]

  Aryan and Amara looked down at the battlefield. Through their Seer eyes, the chaotic mess of soldiers shifted into a clear color code.

  Some soldiers glowed with a soft White aura. They were fighting to survive. They were terrified.

  But others... others glowed with a deep, pulsing Red and Bck.

  These weren't just soldiers. These were the ones who enjoyed it. The ones who had killed their sisters, their fathers, their sons. Their auras reeked of kin-blood.

  "Sy all those that your eyes show Red and Bck," Amara whispered, drawing her daggers. "Leave the White ones. Even a little white."

  Aryan watched a Red-aura soldier ugh as he executed a wounded medic.

  The hesitation in Aryan’s heart vanished. He didn't feel guilt anymore. He felt judgment.

  "Those who look Red are the ones who want the pnet to die," Aryan said, summoning his Dark Matter bde. "They are the virus."

  "And we," Amara said, her grin sharp and terrifying, "are the antiviral."

  "Let the hunt begin," Sam cheered.

  They leaped from the ridge.

  The Luxury of Ignorance

  They moved deeper into the war zone. The air grew heavier, tasting of copper and ash.

  "Sis," Aryan whispered, stepping over a scorched helmet. " were your hunts back home like this?"

  "No," Amara said, her eyes scanning the ridgeline. "Back home, we hunt monsters to protect the city. Here? They hunt each other to feed the System. It's not defense. It's an industry."

  She paused, looking at a billboard half-buried in the dirt. It was propaganda encouraging brother-killing.

  "Remember what Monarch Markus said to us?" Amara asked. "'You will understand the luxury of your birth when you see the rest of the universe.'"

  Aryan scoffed, kicking a pebble. "Luxury? We were fighting for scraps. I couldn't afford medicine. What kind of luxury is poverty?"

  "The luxury of ignorance," Amara said, her voice dropping. "Look around, Aryan. Our pnet doesn't know this war exists. No news feeds. No intergactic internet. Just movies, games, and local drama."

  She turned to him, her face grim.

  "Markus doesn't just rule a state or a continent. He built a cage. A comfortable, ignorant cage to keep us from seeing the hell that surrounds us."

  Aryan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. "He controls the flow of information for an entire pnet? He blocks out the universe?"

  "Exactly," Amara nodded. "He is more than a King. He is a Jailer."

  Aryan gripped his Dark Matter bde tighter. "Then we need to be very, very careful."