Prologue – The Other Side of the Screen

The lecture hall buzzed faintly with the hum of fluorescent lights. Aria Tanaka sat near the middle row, notebook open but half-blank.

She tried to keep her eyes on the glowing projector, but the words were swimming, a blur of white text on blue background.

Every time she blinked, her lids dragged heavier, her vision fuzzed around the edges.

Her pen hovered over the page.

She scribbled a word, crossed it out, started again. The notes made no sense.

Last night’s dungeon crawl had stretched until sunrise, and she’d barely made it back to her dorm before showering and rushing to class.

“Miss Tanaka!”

The professor’s voice cracked through the haze like a whip. Aria jolted upright, the pen slipping from her fingers. A ripple of laughter came from somewhere behind her.

“Yes, sir?” she managed, throat dry.

He adjusted his glasses, expression sharp.

“Would you kindly explain the principle of quantum entanglement in information theory?”

Her mind went blank. She stared at the slide, as if the answer might magically appear between the bullet points.

“I… I’ll review it, sir,” she muttered.

The professor sighed, shaking his head.

“You always say that! Potential doesn’t mean much if you never use it.”

The chuckles from the back row dug under her skin like needles. She sank into her chair, cheeks burning, and wished the floor would swallow her whole.

+++++++

By the time she trudged back to her dorm, the day felt endless. She’d nodded through two more lectures, turned in an assignment half-finished, and ignored her classmates’ whispered comments.

Her roommate was out, which meant the room was mercifully quiet. The mess around her desk, however, was not. Empty ramen packets, half-crushed soda cans, and crumpled chip bags covered the floor. She picked her way through them and collapsed into her chair.

Her phone buzzed. A message from her mom.

Dinner tonight. Don’t be late.

Aria stared at the screen. She considered ignoring it, then sighed. One evening wouldn’t kill her.

+++++++

Dinner was as tense as she’d expected. Her mother sat at the table scrolling through her phone, not even looking up as Aria sat down. The clink of utensils on plates filled the silence.

“You’re wasting away, Aria,” her mother said suddenly, eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Grades slipping, dark circles under your eyes. Are you even trying? Or just playing that… game?”

Aria’s fork froze halfway to her mouth.

“I am trying. You just don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Her mother finally looked up, gaze sharp.

“Don’t understand why you’d rather rot in a dorm than build a future? Don’t understand why my daughter hides from reality in a fantasy world?”

Her jaw clenched.

“You make it sound like I don’t care about my future. I do! I just…”

Her mother cut her off. “Your brother is making connections, planning internships. And you? You’re chasing monsters in a computer.”

Aria’s grip on her fork tightened until her knuckles went white. Heat rose in her chest, words bubbling before she could stop them.

“At least in there, I’m not a mistake.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Her mother’s face hardened, lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t shout. She didn’t scold. She just went quiet, and that quiet hurt worse than anything else.

Aria shoved her chair back, the screech of wood against tile echoing through the small apartment. “I’m going back,” she muttered, and stormed out.

+++++++

The city lights glared down as she made her way back to campus, head bowed against the chill. Neon signs blinked, horns honked, and students laughed in groups as they passed her. She tugged her hoodie tighter, shrinking into herself, pretending she didn’t care that she was alone.

By the time she reached her dorm, her chest felt heavy, like a weight she couldn’t shake. She locked the door behind her, tossed her bag to the floor, and sank into her chair.

The headset on her desk pulsed faintly, waiting.

Aria stared at her reflection in the black corner of the monitor. Messy hair. Pale skin. Eyes ringed with exhaustion. The kind of girl professors forgot, the kind of daughter her mother resented, the kind of person who faded into the background.

Her cursor hovered over the login screen.

Her throat tightened.

“Just one run,” she whispered, a ritual she told herself every night.

The screen shifted.

Her avatar appeared—sleek, confident, radiant in polished armor.

The Duelist! The girl she wished she could be.

Aria exhaled, tension leaving her shoulders for the first time all day. The weight of the world dimmed as Eternal Dominion welcomed her back.

Inside the game, she wasn’t invisible. She wasn’t unwanted. She wasn’t a mistake.

She was someone.

+++++++++

+++

[Initializing Eternal Dominion…]

[Loading World Assets… Complete.]

[Synchronizing Twenty-Year Update… Complete.]

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+++++++++

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> Error: User login anomaly detected.

> Error Code: [PLAYER_NOT_FOUND]

> Attempting profile match…

> Match: 0.00%

+++

+++++++++

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[Recompiling Data…]

[Override protocols engaged.]

[New designation assigned: UNIQUE PLAYER.]

[Status: BUG.]

+++

+++++++++

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System Alert:

Warning. Entity flagged as unstable variable.

Warning. Timeline contamination risk.

Warning. Unknown consequences ahead.

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+++++++++

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Proceeding with forced integration…

+++

The lines of code faded into silence, their ripples spreading unseen.

Beneath the glittering skies of Eternal Dominion, life went on. Guild banners snapped in the wind. Cities thrived with merchants and mercenaries, heroes and villains. Across sprawling battlefields, swords clashed with spells, and monsters roared in forgotten dungeons.

Two decades had passed since the first adventurers entered this world. Some called it a game, others a second life—but Eternal Dominion no longer felt like either. It had grown, evolved, until even its creators no longer understood all its depths.

And now, something stirred.

A rift had opened. A player who should not exist had slipped between the cracks—an unstable presence that the system itself could not categorize. Neither new nor old, neither bound nor free. A variable unaccounted for.

The world did not notice. Not yet.

Knights marched. Mages studied. Guilds plotted. Monsters hungered.

But the rules had already shifted.

A bug had been born.

And far away, in a dim dorm room lit by the blue glow of a tired monitor, a girl whispered the words that would bind her fate to a world no longer content to remain a game:

“Just one more run…”