After walking down the low hill in the grassland,
they reached a single road
that ran from the forest
to the old castle,
and on to the Rofeh village.
The moment his feet left the knee-high grass
and touched solid ground,
Crys let out a visible sigh of relief.
The grassland was crawling with bugs.
When he’d first seen the milky-white castle,
he’d been too excited—
checking whether it matched the visuals
from his favorite game—
to care at all.
Now it felt strange that he hadn’t noticed before.
TT laughed, watching him.
“So it’s not just worms you can’t handle.”
“All bugs,”
Crys said flatly, exhausted.
“If we’re talking grasslands—
grasshoppers are the worst.
Those bulging eyes when you hold one up.
The thin, jagged legs.
And when you flip them over—
that grasping-at-nothing twitch.
I almost passed out when one jumped.”
Crys shuddered.
TT squinted, laughing even harder.
“If you hate them that much,
why do you know so much?”
“When I was little,
I used to observe them with field guides.
No idea how I managed that.
I really don’t.”
“When the legendary Ad threw me the Valmgaze hunt,
I was shocked in a lot of ways.
Didn’t realize you hated bugs that badly.
What did you do before we teamed up?”
“I mostly avoided them.
If I needed materials, I relied on friends.
If I really had to—
I closed my eyes and went for it.
Sound effects cover a lot of it.”
“That’s what I’d expect from a legend.”
TT grinned, proud as if it were his own achievement.
The gravel road—
barely wide enough for cars to pass—
crunched softly with each step.
Grass pressed close on one side,
swaying white like waves in the wind.
On the other,
a river flowed slowly and wide,
catching the sunlight.
Now and then, water leapt against stone.
As they approached the small island where the castle stood,
the river split in two,
wrapping the land
like a natural wall.
—A fortress.
Crys remembered the structure
where the boss waited
on the First Island of True World Origins,
and felt that familiar itch—
like being back inside the game.
While comparing the castle ahead
with the one from TO,
he noticed several teens
walking across the drawbridge.
They noticed Crys and TT too,
eyeing the pair
who’d come from the quiet forest.
Not confident he could respond well if spoken to,
Crys slowed a step,
half-hiding behind TT.
As expected,
one teen called out.
“Where’d you come from?”
“We were up on that hill,”
TT answered honestly,
gesturing back.
“Wanted to see all of Emet Echad Olam.”
“And?”
The girl beside him added.
“Hard to put into words.
The pearl palace shining milky-white.
Islands floating in the sky.
A rainbow over the lake.
You should go see it yourselves—
if you play TO.”
He finished with a wink toward Crys.
“TO? The game?”
The teens exchanged looks, confused.
TT smiled politely and moved to leave—
but another girl hurried up behind them.
“You’re the one who pulled out a Pirit first, right?
Hey—can you teach us magic?
We’re already falling behind.”
That opened the floodgates.
The teens chimed in—me too, me too—
crowding around TT.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Crys thought TT probably couldn’t refuse.
Just as he started to step back,
a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Sorry.
I want to go with him.”
Only then did the teens seem to notice Crys at all,
their eyes turning to him at once.
Heat rushed to his face.
He leaned closer to TT
and whispered,
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
TT didn’t answer.
Instead, the hand on Crys’s shoulder tightened—
almost in protest.
The girl spoke again.
“He can come too.”
TT smiled.
The kind of smile
that made people like him instantly.
Naturally, the teens took it as agreement
and buzzed with excitement.
Still smiling,
TT spoke—
his voice oddly resonant,
as if it reached deeper than sound.
“I said I’m going with him.
Stay here
until we’re out of sight.”
The teens straightened at once,
as if struck by lightning—
then slackened,
faces dreamy, unfocused.
No one spoke.
TT tapped Crys’s shoulder, urging him on.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing,”
TT said calmly.
“I asked, and they listened.
Good bunch—reasonable.”
Asked?
Crys couldn’t see it that way.
They’d looked hypnotized—
as if under a spell.
But TT hadn’t seemed to use magic.
Was it really just… talking?
Before the trees hid them,
Crys glanced back.
The teens, finally able to move again,
tilted their heads,
looking at each other in confusion.
?
They turned by the large oak at the fork,
following the castle wall.
The milky-white castle appeared—
as if a curtain had been drawn back—
its branches thick and full.
It seemed built
to be seen from almost anywhere in Emet Echad Olam.
Still,
Crys felt less of that flutter
than before climbing the hill.
Thinking about the drawbridge,
he began to feel
like he was monopolizing TT.
Those teens had wanted to talk to him too.
But TT stayed with him—
so he couldn’t talk to anyone else.
It might’ve been self-conscious overthinking,
but Crys had to say it.
“TT,
like I said earlier—
you don’t need to worry about me.”
“What do you mean?”
TT sounded genuinely puzzled.
“You’ve been holding back.
Not using magic.
Saying you want to go home soon.
There are lots of people
who want to talk to you.
And you probably want to connect
with people besides me too.”
TT didn’t look at him.
Instead,
he threw both arms up,
cheeks flushed—
as if simply being here
made him happy.
“You know, Ad.
Back in Chuts,
I’m pretty much known as a model student.
So in the game—
and in this world,
where no one knows me—
I want to do whatever I like.
A few people tried talking to me earlier.
I just moved on.
I’m with you because
I want to talk to you.
So it’s not something you need to worry about.”
“That’s a relief,”
Crys said honestly.
“Being alone makes me uneasy.”
“I feel steadier with you too.
Oh—
and there’s something.”
Scratching his cheek,
TT smiled awkwardly.
“You’ve probably noticed, but—
I don’t really show my real self
to anyone but you.
With Talmid and Rav,
I default to playing nice.
So… don’t let that put you off.”
“That explains it.
No wonder I didn’t recognize you at first.
A buddy who was all slang
a few hours ago
suddenly switching to General American?
If even I was fooled,
everyone else would fall for it.”
“Helps that I look good.”
“Did you just say that yourself?”
Crys snorted.
“If I’m the only one you can be real with,
that sounds exhausting.
You’ve got reasons for being the model student, right?
Then I won’t judge.”
“I am a model student.
But—thanks.”
TT grinned, teeth showing.
Seeing that unguarded smile,
Crys felt warm.
Strict household.
A school nicknamed “the prison” for its discipline—
The Lev.
No wonder he never relaxed.
If this strange world—
the one Crys wanted to leave as soon as possible—
was freedom for TT,
then maybe
that alone was reason enough
for it to exist.
“By the way—what’s a Talmid?
I heard it in the great hall too.”
“Rofeh eggs. That’s what they call them, apparently—
to distinguish them
from the Rofeh already in Emet Echad Olam.
They also call them ‘pests.’”
“Whatever they are,
don’t talk to me about bugs.”
They walked a little farther
and reached another fork in the road.
One path led upstream,
along the river that encircled the old castle.
The other opened out,
grasslands stretching on both sides.
Crys and TT chose the grassland path
without hesitation.
If they kept going,
a bridge should come into view.
As long as the milky-white castle stayed in sight,
they couldn’t miss it.
Crys noticed that the grass here
was shorter than the field before the castle—
trimmed,
almost park-like,
without that wild, untamed feel.
When he’d walked alone earlier,
in the early morning
when night still clung to the air,
he’d been tense the whole time,
half-expecting something to leap out of the grass.
Now he felt… light.
Probably not just because the sun was up,
he thought,
glancing at TT’s profile.
“Huh.
It’s closer than I expected.”
The grass thinned,
the path opening out—
and the foot of the bridge was right there.
A heavy black bridge
stretched far ahead,
with a mountain path rising beyond it,
leading toward the castle.
High above,
the milky-white walls shone.
Crys let out another breath of awe—
then sighed,
thinking about the climb ahead.
“Walking and talking,
it’ll be over fast,” TT said.
He smiled at Crys
and stepped onto the bridge.
Crys followed—
but then remembered
how the island had floated in the sky
when he’d seen it from the hill.
Curious,
he leaned over the railing
and looked down.
There was nothing but sky.
A vast, clear blue,
no clouds anywhere.
No ground in sight.
Rather than floating high,
it felt as if the sky itself
had taken on a spherical shape,
cradling Emet Echad Olam inside it.
The longer he looked,
the harder it was to tell
which way was up,
and which was down.
Crys tore his gaze away.
The illusion of falling
made his heart race.
He hurried to catch up with TT.
“So?
How was it?”
“Skydiving’s a hard pass.”
Crys sounded drained.
TT laughed,
bright and unrestrained.
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short.
You’re bad at pretty much every sport—not just that one.
You put everything into games.”
“I’m just an untalented otaku.”
“I’m praising you.
You’re tournament-level.”
“I’ve told you—
those scores only happen because it’s play.
Zero stress tolerance.
Playing in front of people,
competing down to fractions of a second—
no way.”
“And before that,
you don’t have the stamina.”
“That’s not praise.”
Since they were talking about games,
they slipped easily into memories.
The first time they’d fought together
on the First Island—
TT always got animated at that part.
How Crys dumped worm-type monsters on him every time.
How TT, as a melee fighter,
overcommitted and got stunned.
How they’d let their guard down in a familiar field,
only to get caught together
after a system update changed the mechanics.
How Crys complained
every time magic, ghosts, or fairies showed up.
What they thought of Theo Thomas’s talk streams.
How unbelievably beautiful
the graphics never stopped being.
Just like TT said,
even a bridge that seemed miles long
passed in no time
when they were talking.
Stone paving gave way to a mountain road—
and still,
they didn’t stop.
“What do you think the Eleventh Island will be like?”
“If TO is really based on Emet Echad Olam,
the theme color’s gotta be gold.”
TT suddenly went quiet.
“Ah.”
He looked at Crys,
mouth hanging open.
“If it really is based on Emet Echad Olam…
doesn’t that mean
the next expansion is the last one?”
Crys stared back,
just as stunned.
He’d never imagined
True World Origins
actually reaching completion.
Emotion broke loose.
“No—!”
If things followed the usual schedule,
new content would drop in October,
with an official announcement
during the September broadcast.
If this really was the final expansion,
there should’ve been hints much earlier.
The thought that he had to get back—
back to his own world—
grew stronger,
and his steps quickened.
Then Crys remembered something
and glanced at TT.
“When that happens…
we won’t be able to clear it together, will we?”
The weakness in his voice surprised him—
and made it painfully clear
how special TT was to him.
Even if TT had other friends,
he wanted to tackle something as big
as a new expansion
with his buddy.
But TT accepted,
without hesitation,
the idea of living in Emet Echad Olam
for three years.
When TT had said in chat
that he was quitting the game,
Crys had planned to wait—
if he came back.
But three years,
with no expansions in between…
Crys wasn’t sure
he’d still be playing.
Then TT said,
“Would be nice if we could.”
Crys froze.
It sounded—almost possible.
Not wanting to get his hopes up,
he said,
“But you can’t come back for three years, right?”
“About that.”
TT ran a hand through his soft black hair,
then looked at Tsek on his shoulder,
as if searching for the right words.
“It’s true.
Rofeh live in Emet Echad Olam for three years.
But Tsek says
if you master all eleven Milu’im,
you can travel back and forth to Chuts.
And this is reality, right?
Apparently, if you can imagine it, you can just bring out a computer.
No idea what powers it,
but—
a PC in a room with a connection.
Wi-Fi and everything.”
“So that means the game—”
“Probably playable.”
“If you knew that,
you should’ve said so in chat!”
TT said it like it was nothing.
Crys sagged,
half relieved,
half exasperated.
“You said you were quitting.
That you didn’t know when you’d be back.
I really thought—
I thought that might be it.
That we were done…”
The rest dissolved into breath,
caught in his throat.
“You believed me
when I said I was going
to the world where everything began
for an Initiation, right?”
TT patted Crys’s head,
like he was apologizing.
“Tsek said he could play the game in my place,
so at first I thought I’d do that.
But I didn’t know
how Milu’im were scheduled,
or how big they’d be.
And I wasn’t sure
I could picture myself
using a computer
in a world I didn’t know.
So I figured
planning for the full three years
made more sense.
Besides—
you’re sharp.
If I swapped with Tsek,
you’d notice.
And no matter what,
even if my Nahal could substitute for me,
I wanted to be the one
to be your buddy, Ad.”
What he’d said in chat—
that he didn’t fully understand himself.
That continuing would turn into a lie.
That it wasn’t family reasons,
but his own.
Crys finally understood.
Still, something about it didn’t quite sit right.
