Rose leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixated on the screen, the weight of her thoughts settling heavily on her shoulders. Sylus's actions in the game had always intrigued her, but now, more than ever, something about him felt like a puzzle that was just out of reach. The way he interacted with the protagonist—his tenderness mixed with the cold authority of Onychinus—was a constant reminder of the man she once knew.
Her fingers danced over the controls, guiding the protagonist through the missions, but her mind wasn't fully there. Every action, every word Sylus spoke to the protagonist, echoed in her mind like a faint memory. Why did it feel so familiar? Why did she feel like the connection was more than just a game? The more she played, the more the pieces of the puzzle seemed to slip through her fingers, frustrating her.
Rose shook her head, trying to push away the emotions. "This isn't real," she muttered to herself. "It's just a game. Just a game."
But no matter how many times she told herself that, her heart wouldn't listen. The truth was, the game was more than that. Sylus, the character who had been a fleeting dream in her past, was back. But he wasn't the same. His eyes—those red eyes that now shimmered with an unsettling intensity—were a constant reminder of the man who had once shared a bond with her. And yet, he couldn't even remember her now.
Rose's mind drifted back to the game's world, where Sylus led Onychinus with a steely resolve. The more she watched, the more she noticed the subtle hints in his behavior. A flicker of something soft, something fragile, when he spoke to the female protagonist. His words were always carefully chosen, his loyalty apparent, but his demeanor... it was different.
She couldn't shake the feeling that Sylus wasn't just loyal to any player; he was loyal to the idea of someone—someone who he couldn't quite recall. The more she played, the more she realized that his devotion was almost too perfect, too unwavering. It was as if the game had molded him into the ideal leader, but something—someone—was missing from the equation.
Her curiosity burned brighter with each passing second. What had changed? What had happened to the Sylus she once knew? The bond they had shared, the emotions that had once connected them—why did the game present him as someone so cold and detached now, yet still capable of such tenderness? Was it just part of the programming, or was there something deeper at play?
Rose tapped her phone screen, advancing to the next scene, her fingers moving almost mechanically as she unlocked the next set of missions. The game's world continued to unfold before her eyes—missions that led the protagonist through dangerous territories, secret alliances, and unexpected betrayals—but no matter what happened in the game, her thoughts remained fixed on Sylus.
For a moment, the female protagonist was left alone in a dimly lit room, staring out of a window that overlooked a vast expanse of cityscape. Rose knew that soon Sylus would appear—he always did, a looming figure in the distance, as if drawn by an invisible force. And when he did, his eyes—those red eyes—would lock onto the protagonist's with that same intensity.
The moment Sylus entered the scene, his cold, commanding presence filled the screen, and Rose could almost feel the weight of his gaze. He wasn't just a leader—he was a man who was still searching for something, someone. And as his red eyes flickered over the female protagonist, Rose felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside her.
"He doesn't even recognize me," Rose whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She had to remind herself that this was just a game. But the memories of what they had shared before—the destruction of the world they once lived in, the bond they had formed, the love that had connected them—were too strong to ignore.
In the game, Sylus never spoke of the past. He was simply the leader of Onychinus, a man with a mysterious history and a fierce loyalty to his female protagonist. But Rose couldn't shake the feeling that, deep down, there was more to him than what the game let on. She had seen the glimpses of vulnerability—the way his voice softened when speaking to the protagonist, the way his eyes would linger for just a moment too long. It was as if he was trying to find something in her that he had lost.
And that something... it could only be Rose.
The thought sent a jolt of recognition through her. Sylus's feelings, the tenderness he showed in his interactions with the protagonist, couldn't be just a game mechanic. It was real, it had to be. And as much as it pained her to admit it, Rose knew that the game's world was no longer just a distraction. It was a way for Sylus to reach out to her, even if he didn't realize it yet.
With a frustrated sigh, Rose set her phone down, her mind racing. "I need to figure this out," she muttered under her breath. "What happened to you, Sylus?"
But the answer, she knew, was hidden somewhere deep within the game—if only she could break through the layers of mystery that surrounded him.
For now, she could only continue to play, unraveling the twisted, tangled threads of the game's world until, one day, she would uncover the truth. And maybe—just maybe—when the time came, Sylus would remember.