Ascension Online: Forsken Path

Reed exhaled slowly, his pulse still hammering in his ears. The Fragmented One was gone, but its existence left more questions than answers. He wasn't gaining EXP, loot, or system messages that made sense.

That wasn't how MMORPGs worked. Unless this wasn't really an MMORPG.

Above him, the armored man—the one who had watched without interfering—remained perched atop a shattered pillar. His spear rested against his shoulder, his gaze unreadable.

"You survived," he said. "That makes you different."

Reed wiped the blood from his arm, still feeling the sting of his wound. "Not dying makes me different? That's a pretty low bar."

The man smirked. "You'd be surprised how many fail."

Reed wasn't in the mood for cryptic nonsense. He gestured to the ruined landscape. "What is this place? Why is the system acting like I don't belong here?"

The man's expression darkened slightly. "Because you don't."

Reed's fingers clenched around his dagger. "What does that mean?"

The armored man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leapt down from the pillar, landing effortlessly a few feet away. Up close, Reed could see the damage on his armor—deep cracks, scorched metal, as if he'd been fighting for centuries.

"This place is not part of the world you expected," the man said finally. "It is where the discarded are sent. Those who should not exist."

Reed's stomach tightened. Discarded? Not supposed to exist?

"I didn't ask to be here," Reed said, forcing himself to stay calm. "If this isn't part of the game, then what is it?"

The man studied him. Then, without warning, he threw something.

Reed caught it instinctively.

A shattered emblem, made of something like black stone. It was cracked through the center, faint symbols carved along its edges. The moment his fingers touched it, a system message appeared.

You have obtained: Forsaken Sigil (Unbound).

Status: Broken.

A symbol of those who have lost their place in the world. Its purpose is unknown.

Reed frowned. "What is this?"

The man stepped closer. "Proof that you're no longer part of the world you once knew."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Reed broke the silence. "Who are you?"

The armored man seemed to consider his answer before speaking. "I am known as Vael."

That name meant nothing to Reed. No title, no affiliation, just Vael.

Reed tightened his grip on the sigil. "And what do you want from me?"

Vael studied him for a moment longer, then turned. "Follow me."

He started walking toward the ruins without waiting for an answer.

Reed glanced at the Forsaken Sigil again before shoving it into his pocket. He had no idea what was happening, but one thing was clear—sitting still wasn't an option.

He followed.

The ruins stretched on for what felt like miles—crumbling structures swallowed by mist, remnants of a civilization erased from existence.

Reed walked in silence behind Vael, his senses on high alert. Every so often, he caught movement in the shadows—more of those creatures, watching but not attacking.

Finally, he spoke. "What were those things? The ones with the glowing eyes."

"Fragments," Vael said without turning. "Broken echoes of those who failed the trial."

Reed slowed slightly. Failed?

"You mean people like me?"

Vael nodded. "Many come here. Few leave."

That wasn't the most reassuring thing Reed had ever heard.

They passed under a massive archway covered in strange, worn carvings. As they entered, a notification flashed.

You have entered: The Hall of the Forgotten.

Ahead, the ruins opened into a vast chamber. Stone pillars lined the space, their surfaces etched with names—thousands of them.

Reed stepped closer. The markings weren't just words—they were game usernames.

He ran his fingers across the nearest pillar. Some names were scratched out, others half-erased, as if something had forcibly removed them.

"Who were they?" he asked.

"Players," Vael said simply. "Like you. They tried to survive. They failed."

A cold weight settled in Reed's gut.

He glanced at the furthest pillars. Some of the names were new. Freshly etched.

One of them was only partially formed, flickering between existence and nothingness. As if it wasn't sure whether it belonged there.

Reed froze.

The name was his.

Nemesis.

His breath hitched. Was this some kind of death marker?

"What happens if my name gets fully carved?" Reed asked quietly.

Vael met his gaze. "Then you disappear."

A system message appeared.

The Trial Continues.

Objective Updated: Defy Erasure.

Reed clenched his fists. This wasn't just about survival anymore.

This was about fighting to exist.