When Reality Masters die, their Reality Walkers are left physically unharmed, but their powers are severely diminished. Once dynamic and ever-evolving, their abilities become static, incapable of further growth or development. This loss of potential leaves them vulnerable in a world that once revered their power.
To survive, many Walkers are forced to adapt by seeking stability in other ways. Some find work with local governments, using their now-limited abilities in mundane public service roles.
Others turn to Temples, offering binding contracts in exchange for legal citizen status, financial support, and social acceptance.
While these arrangements provide some semblance of security, they also create a dependency on external institutions. Walkers become relics of a forgotten connection, existing in a world that sees them as fading echoes of something once grand.
'I'll just say I serve a dead Reality Master,' Kalisto thought, uncertainty gnawing at him. 'I'm still not sure if the one I serve is truly orthodox... I wonder if he'll care about my decision.'
He shook his head, a faint smile crossing his lips as he pushed the thought away.
'No, he said I'm free to do whatever I want. He won't mind.'
Just then, the office door opened, and a woman stepped out, her appearance sharp and practical—sturdy boots, fitted tactical pants, and a lightweight jacket reinforced with armored plating. She gave Kalisto a formal nod of greeting.
"Hello, are you Kalisto?"
Kalisto nodded eagerly, his mind racing. What kind of job would require a Walker like him, with his [Coin Luck Accumulation] ability?
"Yes, that's me," he replied, his tone tinged with anticipation. "Are there any combat missions where my skills would be useful?"
The woman paused, her expression flickering with uncertainty. She opened her mouth, then closed it, as if searching for the right words.
"Well... yes, there is one," she finally said, her voice steady but cautious.
...
Sitting cross-legged near the altar, Ivaim absentmindedly stroked the brown cat curled in his lap, its soft fur a calming contrast to the swirl of thoughts racing through his mind. The purring of the cat did little to steady his nerves as he tried to piece together the strange new reality he was beginning to understand.
'So, if I defeat another Reality Master... they become part of my Fractured Reality?' he mused.
The idea intrigued him, but it also stirred an uncomfortable feeling. The simplicity of it all felt almost surreal—too easy. As his fingers traced the cat's smooth back, he couldn't help but question:
'Is this the same brown cat I met earlier? Or is it just another illusion, a copy conjured by the Fractured Reality?'
He looked down at the creature, watching it blink lazily at him, its eyes too knowing, too calm. Was it real? Or just a fragment of this fractured world he was trapped in?
"Overthinking it won't get me anywhere right now," Ivaim muttered under his breath. "For now, I'll assume it's not a threat."
He stood up, stretching his legs, and glanced around the temple once more. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, but nothing immediately struck him as dangerous.
'I wonder what the main scenario of my Fractured Reality is,' he thought, curiosity gnawing at him.
With a thought, he activated the system again, pulling up the details of his Fractured Reality. The interface flickered into life.
[Main Scenario: (Updating)]
[Extra Scenario (Slot 1): Coin Flip]
[Extra Scenario (Slot 2): (Empty)]
"Updating, huh?" Ivaim murmured, his brow furrowing. "Probably because the original owner of this body changed..."
His fingers hovered over the interface as he considered the implications. If the main scenario was still being updated, that meant his role—and perhaps even his purpose—was also in the process of being updated.
'Speaking of which, I wonder when that kid I gave a Threshold Item to will show up?' Ivaim thought, remembering the child he'd found crying in the Streets of Penury.
The boy's tear-streaked face was still fresh in his mind.
'He seemed like someone with a tragic backstory,' Ivaim mused.
After waiting a few more minutes and realizing the child likely wouldn't show up soon, Ivaim decided to leave his Fractured Reality.
[Would you like to leave this Fractured Reality?]
Just as he was about to confirm his decision, another system notification appeared beside him.
[Someone has entered your Fractured Reality.]
Ivaim froze. He immediately assumed it was the child—the one he'd given a Threshold Item to. But as he turned to face the new figure, a chill crept up his spine. Something was wrong.
The visitor was far taller than he expected—at least six feet, towering over him with a presence that demanded attention. The figure gripped a large, curved blade, the steel gleaming coldly in the dim light of the temple.
But it wasn't the weapon or the size that unsettled him most. It was the mask—the wolf-like mask, cold and unyielding, obscuring any trace of the visitor's face. But even more disturbing was the way the figure moved.
Four arms.
The extra limbs twisted unnaturally, a grotesque display of strength and fluidity. Ivaim's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.
This was no child. The being before him was something far more menacing. Whatever it was, it wasn't human.
A voice, low and gravelly, echoed through the still air as the figure took another step closer.
"You're not who I was expecting."
Ivaim's mind reeled. 'Am I really the Spirit with Good Luck...?'
He could feel doubt creeping in again, but he pushed it away, deciding to use humor to steady his nerves.
Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and met the figure's gaze. The brown cat beneath him hissed, its fur bristling, as it glared at the towering, imposing figure.
"Perhaps," Ivaim said, his voice steady, though with a trace of amusement, "but I wasn't expecting a visitor like you either."
He studied the figure more closely, his eyes narrowing. There was something off—something that didn't fit. And then, as his gaze shifted downward, he saw it.
Behind the towering, four-armed stranger, barely visible in the shadows, was a small, familiar figure.
The child.
It was the same child Ivaim had found crying on the streets earlier—the one he had given the Threshold Item to.
His heart skipped a beat as he processed the strange scene before him. What was going on?
"That brat sold me out, huh..." Ivaim muttered under his breath, his mind racing as he processed the new information.
At the sound of his words, the tall creature let out a low, rasping laugh—deep and unsettling, like nails scraping across stone.
It was the kind of laugh that gnawed at the nerves, making Ivaim's skin crawl.
"How coincidental," the creature crooned, its voice dripping with mockery.
"You just happen to give your Threshold Item to some random child on the streets... who turns out to be connected to another Reality Master."
It took a step closer, its four arms shifting with unnerving precision, each movement deliberate and ominous.
"Or perhaps," it continued, its tone dripping with malice, "you were expecting this all along. How cunning."
The mocking words hung in the air, thick with insinuation, as the creature's presence grew even more oppressive.
'How the hell am I supposed to know that... Wait, is it because of the [Coin of Fortune] ability?'
Ivaim froze for a moment, a realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. It wasn't just a coincidence that he'd given the Threshold Item to a child connected to another Reality Master.
It was the damn [Coin of Fortune] at work again, twisting his luck in ways he hadn't fully grasped.
His eyes widened as the implications sunk in—his ability, which had seemed like a blessing, was more of a double-edged sword than he ever realized.
'I should probably stop using this ability so freely,' he thought to himself.
'To the Coin, finding a kid connected to a Reality Master might seem like a lucky break. But in reality... it's a disaster waiting to happen.'
He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated chuckle escaping his lips.
"Guess fortune and danger really are two sides of the same coin."
Hearing Ivaim's chuckle, the creature's confidence only grew. It was clear to him now—it wasn't just a coincidence. Ivaim had planned this all along, luring him out with some hidden purpose.
With a swift motion, the creature drew his curved blade, the sharp sound of metal slicing through the air sending a chill down Ivaim's spine.
"Tell me, Spirit with Good Luck," the creature's voice dripped with suspicion and malice.
"Was this your plan all along? To lure me here, to make some sort of alliance? Or are you here to take my essence, just like you did to The Lonely Cat last night?"
The tension in the air thickened, the creature's words hanging like a threat, as his four arms flexed, ready to strike. Ivaim's mind raced.
The creature knew too much, and every second spent in this conversation felt like a step deeper into a dangerous game.
Ivaim took a moment to let the tension hang in the air, the weight of the creature's words pressing down on him. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself before reaching into his pocket.
With a flick of his wrist, he sent a coin spinning into the air, its arc slicing through the silence.
The moment the coin reached its peak, a strange energy crackled, and the Fractured Reality's extra scenario activated.
[Extra Scenario: Coin Flip, has begun.]
Ivaim smiled, watching the coin spin as if it held the power to change everything.
"Well then," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of amusement, "how about a little game before I answer that?"