The Nihilos: Trash Player Who Rewrote Reality

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of their cozy apartment, casting soft golden rays on the wooden floor. The faint smell of toast and over-fried eggs drifted from the kitchen, along with the sound of a barely functioning radio playing a cheerful jingle.

"Raven, is the stove supposed to make that hissing sound?" Sol asked, eyes wide, fork held like a weapon.

Raven peered over from the couch, sipping his coffee. "That's just the kettle, not a boss fight."

Sol narrowed his eyes. "It sounds hostile."

In the corner, Ava giggled behind a sketchbook. She had been drawing faces all morning—hers, Raven's, even Sol's clumsy expressions. Her eyes sparkled in the peace they'd built together over these past months.

Today was special.

"Sol," Ava said, hopping down from the armchair. "Do you remember what today is?"

Sol tilted his head. "Wednesday?"

Raven walked in, hands in his pockets. "Close. It's your birthday."

Sol blinked. "...I have a birthday?"

Ava held up a handmade card with goofy balloons and digital numbers drawn across the front. "You do now!"

It read:

> Happy First Birthday, Sol!

"You may not remember being born... but you're definitely alive now."

His expression softened, confused and touched at the same time. "Is this what humans do?"

"We eat cake, open gifts, and yell about how old we are," Raven added, grabbing a party hat and plopping it on Sol's head.

"But… I don't know how old I am," Sol said, glancing at his reflection in the toaster.

"That's the best part," Ava grinned. "You can just pick!"

Sol thought for a moment. "Then... I am twelve hundred and five."

"Nope," Raven said. "You're officially turning one today. End of discussion."

Sol sighed. "I feel so demoted."

Ava clapped her hands. "Let's go to the market! We'll get cake ingredients. And don't break anything this time."

Sol raised a hand solemnly. "I only broke the cabbage stand once."

They walked through the streets of the city—now calmer, more vibrant. Since the dungeon outbreaks were controlled and the EvoCore tensions reduced, life had returned to a kind of comfortable normalcy. Even former players walked freely now, living like citizens rather than warriors.

At the bakery, Sol stared at the cakes through the glass. "Why do people enjoy food that makes their stomachs ache and their energy drop?"

Raven replied, "Because it makes the heart feel full."

Sol tapped his chest. "I don't feel anything there yet."

"You will," Ava said, patting his arm.

Back home, the cake ended up slightly burnt, the cream was lopsided, and someone (Sol) had written "HBD SOL V.1" in ketchup on top.

But it was perfect.

They lit a candle.

Sol looked at it, then at them. "Is this the part where I make a wish?"

"Yeah," Ava said.

He thought for a moment.

"I wish…" he looked around. "That I stay broken. Just enough to always need you two."

Raven chuckled quietly. "You don't have to wish that. You're stuck with us anyway."

Sol blew out the candle—mouth a little too close—and the cream splattered onto the wall.

Laughter filled the room.

And somewhere deep in the broken layers of code in the world, something registered the spike in emotional resonance from three forgotten variables.

But it did not interrupt.

Because even Nihilos… paused that day.