The Forgotten Supreme

Elestra was a town caught between existence and erasure.

Ethan could feel it in every step he took. The cobblestones underfoot flickered between decay and restoration, some vanishing entirely before reforming as if struggling to remember their shape. The wooden beams of the nearby buildings groaned as though adjusting to their renewed presence in the world. The eerie silence hanging over the streets felt unnatural, like the town itself was holding its breath.

Leonhart walked a few paces behind him, his armored boots scraping against loose gravel. "I swear, this place wasn't here a minute ago," he muttered, casting wary glances at the surroundings. "Still gives me the creeps. I've seen abandoned zones before, but nothing like this."

Sera didn't seem nearly as unsettled. "You think this is some kind of lost dungeon?" she mused. "If it was erased before, maybe the loot inside was too."

She smirked. "That means first dibs."

Ethan didn't reply. His focus had locked onto something ahead.

A building stood at the far end of the street—a large, two-story structure with faded wooden walls and a barely legible sign above the entrance. It had the unmistakable shape of an inn. More importantly, there was a light on in one of the second-floor windows.

It wasn't the dim flicker of a faulty light source. It was steady, controlled.

Someone was inside.

He stopped walking.

Leonhart noticed immediately. "Something wrong?"

"There's a light," Ethan murmured.

Sera narrowed her eyes. "A hidden NPC?"

Leonhart's grin returned. "Finally. Maybe we'll get some quest details."

Ethan remained silent, stepping forward cautiously. NPCs only spawned in designated zones. But Elestra wasn't just abandoned—it had been erased. The system shouldn't be able to generate anything here.

And yet, the door was already slightly open.

As if whoever was inside had been expecting them.

The moment Ethan crossed the threshold, the temperature inside the inn felt different—stale, heavy, like the air had been sitting undisturbed for years.

Dust hung thick in the air, the wooden floor beneath their boots creaking with each step. A long-abandoned counter stretched across one side of the room, its surface covered in a thin layer of dust. A small oil lamp flickered weakly on the counter, casting long shadows against the walls.

And behind the counter, in a rocking chair, sat an old woman.

Her fingers moved steadily as she knitted, the rhythmic motion eerily slow. Her frame was frail, wrapped in layers of faded cloth, but there was something wrong about her presence.

Ethan's stomach twisted.

Her character model looked outdated—the textures of her skin were slightly grainy, as if she belonged to an older version of the game. Yet, despite that, her movements were too fluid, too lifelike for a system-generated NPC.

Slowly, she lifted her head. A small, knowing smile crossed her lips.

"I was wondering when you'd come," she said.

Leonhart frowned. "That's not standard NPC dialogue."

Sera shot Ethan a glance. "System-generated? Or scripted?"

Ethan didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the woman's face.

Because the moment she looked up—her gaze had gone straight to him.

It wasn't curiosity.

It was recognition.

And then, she smiled wider.

Lifting a frail, bony finger, she pointed directly at Ethan.

"You are not part of the system."

Ethan's muscles tensed. A shiver crawled down his spine.

Leonhart's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

The woman didn't acknowledge his question. Her attention was completely on Ethan.

"You have come here," she murmured, "because the forgotten seek their own."

The moment the words left her mouth, Ethan's UI flickered violently.

[Hidden System Message Unlocked]

[A Fragment of the Past Has Remembered You]

A pulse of golden energy rippled beneath his skin. The Authority inside him reacted, resonating with something in her words.

She knew.

She recognized whatever he had become.

Ethan clenched his fists. "What do you mean, 'the forgotten?'"

The woman studied him for a long moment. "You are one of them now."

Her frail hands rested in her lap. "You should leave soon, child."

Ethan forced his voice to remain steady. "Why?"

The wooden beams above them groaned. The air suddenly became thick—heavy, charged with an unseen force.

Her smile faded. "Because the ones who erased us…"

A deep, metallic grinding noise echoed from outside.

The inn shuddered.

Ethan's UI flashed red.

[System Alert: Foreign Presence Detected]

[Danger Rating: High]

Leonhart cursed as he unsheathed his weapon. "The hell was that?"

Sera's daggers glowed as she tensed, shifting into a ready stance. "Something's coming."

The old woman rose from her chair, her rocking chair creaking as it swayed behind her. Despite her frail form, she seemed completely unafraid.

"This place was erased for a reason," she murmured. "Now that you are here… it will try again."

Another loud scrape—metal against stone. The tremors beneath them intensified.

Ethan stared at the doorway. Shadows flickered against the dim light of the oil lamp.

Something was coming.

Something big.

And he had a feeling it wasn't here to talk.