When Fantasy Glitches

The day was dim, the sun’s light muted by the thick clouds blanketing the sky. It’s often said that the mood of a day can reflect one’s life, and for Mia, that couldn't feel more true.

Her entire demeanor spoke of exhaustion. There were no dark circles under her eyes, but her gaze was heavy and tired. Her once sleek black hair, which had never lost its grace even in battle, now hung grimy and tangled, as if it hadn’t seen water in days. The same could be said for her overall appearance. Her armor, once shining, now dull and scuffed. Even her skin seemed to have lost its luster.

Yet, despite all this, Mia’s eyes remained locked on the table in front of her, her arms stretched over the gridded map pinned to its surface. The map didn’t cover a wide region but rather a local area, showing a small place called Larter Village nestled at the base of a hill. From there, a path snaked halfway up the hill to what appeared to be a stone-built military outpost.

Exactly where Mia was now.

Everything around her, from the floors to the walls, was made of solid stone bricks. The outpost wasn’t large—nothing compared to the garrison back in Arlcliff City—but it was well fortified, shaped in a triangular formation with a watchtower at the vertex. Simple structures like the barracks, armory, and stables lined the inner walls. Mia stood within the open space inside the walls, a courtyard once used for training. Now, all the wooden dummies and archery targets had been cleared away and put into storage, leaving room for them to set up a large tent with open flaps in the middle.

Aside from the landmarks of the village and outpost itself, the map was littered with red X’s, marking locations from ravines to dense forests. Scattered among the marks were a few well-carved wooden pieces, representing something else.

Mia’s thoughts drifted elsewhere when the sound of approaching horses caught her attention. The soldiers stationed at the outpost, initially on edge, soon relaxed as they recognized the riders. Two groups were coming, led by four riders on horseback. As they reached the front gate, the leaders dismounted, two of them instantly familiar—Gerald and Marcos. They handed off their horses to the stable hands, who hurried to tend to them, before issuing orders to the eighty or so soldiers who had been following behind them.

Soon the soldiers scattered, while Gerald, Marcos, and the other two made their way toward Mia’s tent. They gave her a brief salute, but Mia waved them off, cutting through the formalities. No one protested; they looked as weary and drained as she did.

“Well?” She met their gazes with a tempered look, waiting for their report.

"Lieutenant Hazel and I cleared sectors F-3 through F-6 and G-3 through G-5. No signs of anything—monsters or otherwise." Marcos’ voice was steady, but the weariness was unmistakable. Behind him, Lieutenant Hazel gave a confirming nod as Mia’s eyes met his. Hazel was an Adept-level knight, leading one of the platoons sent by the Major General to assist Mi and the others. He was also one of the few who hadn’t been attacked on their way to the outpost.

Mia frowned slightly, reached for a pen, and marked the cleared sectors with a red X on the map. Gerald stepped forward next. His usually gruff voice was more strained than usual, something rare for him.

"Lieutenant Galven and I cleared H-9 through H-12 and A-10 through A-12. H blocks were clear, but we ran into trouble in A-11. We were ambushed by some spider-type monsters. They hit us fast... and there were too many of them. We had to retreat before we could finish clearing the area." Mia didn’t react outwardly, simply taking one of the wooden pieces and placing it on A-11.

“Casualties?” The single word seemed to weigh the air down, a palpable silence settling over the group.

“Eight,” Gerald replied grimly.

“Six killed in combat during the order to retreat. The other two were bitten and should be in the infirmary now. Those fucking spiders used venom... I doubt they’ll make it through the night.” He didn’t need to explain further. The outpost wasn’t equipped with either the supplies, or medical staff to handle such injuries, and the venom of man-eating spiders was no doubt lethal. The weight of that reality hung over them all and the four noticed Mia’s grip on the table tightened momentarily, her body tensing, but her voice remained steady when she spoke again.

“I understand. You’re dismissed. Get some rest.” The four soldiers exchanged glances before the two lieutenants left the tent. Marcos and Gerald, however, remained. Mia, as if trying to ignore their lingering presence, picked up a sheet of paper and began writing. But after a long moment, she sighed and finally looked up.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice tinged with impatience. She met Marcos' fatigued gaze, and then Gerald’s more serious expression.

“Mia… when’s the last time you got any rest?” Marcos asked, concern breaking through his voice.

“I’m fine. Besides, sleep would only disrupt my thinking right now,” Mia replied calmly, looking back down as she continued to write. Marcos shook his head slowly at that.

“It’s been at least a week, if not more. Just because we can supplement our stamina with aura doesn’t mean our brains can go without sleep forever.” Gerald, arms crossed nodded in agreement.

“He’s right. You’re not thinking clearly. If we run into that ‘thing’ again, you won’t be ready to fight it. Don’t be stubborn.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Mia’s voice grew sharper, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“I’ll rest when we find the damn thing.” There was a tension in her words now, a brittle edge—like a dam under pressure, one crack away from bursting.

“It was our… no, my duty to figure out what the hell this thing is. That’s what the Major General tasked me with. But not only did I fail—I’m the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. It was my order to use Plan MK, and because of that, an entire platoon on their way to help us got wiped out. Another platoon’s lieutenant is lying in the infirmary, unconscious, half his body gone. And that village down there? They’re suffering even more now than before we arrived—the ones who were supposed to protect them!” Mia’s fingers dug into the hard wooden table, the wood cracking and splintering under the pressure as her voice rose.

Outside the tent, a few soldiers turned their heads toward the outburst. Mia, eyes closed, took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm.

A moment later, her voice leveled, unnervingly controlled.

“Larter Village was barely hanging on before we got here. They can’t afford to feed three platoons of soldiers, and our supplies are already running low. Every day we stay here, every day that thing is out there, is a day we push those families closer to starving. They’re terrified, terrified of being attacked at night by some creature we haven’t even caught a glimpse of. So no, I don’t plan on resting until I fix the problem I caused and finish the mission we came here to do.” Her words were cold, resolute. Despite the grime and exhaustion, that unwavering determination remained, as it always did. Marcos and Gerald exchanged a glance, both sighing at the futility of arguing with her.

“Ok. If that’s how you want it, we won’t stop you,” Gerald said, his tone softening slightly.

“But at least let the men rest. You’ve been pushing them hard, and even if you don’t need it, they do.” Both he and Marcos knew they weren’t going to pull Mia out of this spiral. Pushing her further would only risk causing a scene in front of the soldiers, and neither wanted that.

Mia was silent for a moment before giving a brief nod.

“You’re right. Fine.”

With the tension easing, the conversation shifted as Marcos spoke up.

“Any word from the Major General?” Mia shook her head at the question.

“No. It’s too dangerous to send messengers from here to Arlcliff City, so we have to rely on messenger birds. But even then, the distance is a problem. Some birds come back lost; others don’t seem to make it at all, who knows why. The last message we got from the Major General said he’s trying to find a way to help us, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Her eyes flicked between Marcos and Gerald.

"We should operate under the assumption no help is coming anytime soon."

•

Year 348 of the Great Sundering Era, 1st Month, 13th Day of the Mistveil Cycle.

Night had fallen over Dimfield Village, and Seraline had managed to buy the two horses she'd had her eye on from the farmer. When they made the purchase, Magnus had asked why she bought two—after all, he hadn’t magically learned how to ride one overnight. Seraline simply explained it was a precaution, and, odd as it sounded, Magnus understood. After being attacked by a mana beast on their first day out of Arlcliff City, it made sense to be prepared for the possibility of losing a horse or two down the road.

Initially, Seraline had planned to set out right away while there was still daylight since they had everything they needed. But Magnus convinced her it would be better to start fresh in the morning. One thing Magnus noticed while traveling with Seraline was that she didn’t tend to argue much when he proposed things for the two of them, even after learning he was Magnus beneath the mask of Cain. He didn't know why, but Seraline typically just wanted to know the reasoning behind an action rather than having strong opinions about the action itself.

Of course, Magnus's real reason why he wanted to wait was that he didn’t want to travel without access to the Command Console. It was still analyzing the glitch Monlam had been using and would take a few hours to finish, so he figured he might as well sleep through it. And that’s exactly what he did—until Basker woke him up.

[Master, the Command Console's analysis has been completed.]

The message rang through his sleeping consciousness, and Magnus slowly opened his eyes. Thanks to Seraline's equivalent of a limitless credit card, they'd rented rooms at a local inn, which had an owner who seemed more than happy to receive foreign business.

Magnus stretched as he sat up, groaning softly.

What time is it?

He glanced around the small inn room. It wasn’t more than five by five meters, with a simple wooden desk and chair in one corner, the bed he was lying on, and a small nightstand with a candle, long since burned out. The only light came through the casement windows, two carved pieces of wood on hinges that could swing open or shut but couldn’t really lock.

Checking the time on his mental clock, Magnus yawned.

Still pretty late, huh? Well, let’s see what this glitch is all about.

Command Console

↑…

[Debugging Protocol]: Analysis complete.

[Debugging Protocol]: Creating glitch report…

[Debugging Protocol]: Report created successfully.

[GLITCH REPORT]: Codebreak-007-2 Debugging Report

[Type]: Abnormal System

[Origin]: Autonomic Manifestation

[Status]: Active

[Analysis Findings]: Codebreak-007-2, herein designated as an Abnormal System, is a systematic anomaly of unknown origin. This anomaly does not manifest as a fixed location, object, or form but instead operates as an information-based phenomenon, seemingly tied to a category of knowledge identified as "Dharma." The anomaly functions by interfacing with any cognitively capable entity, allowing those who meet the thresholds assigned by the system to gain unique abilities derived from it. These thresholds are based on an internal logic that goes against established world norms.

[Description of Codebreak-007-2]: Codebreak-007-2 does not manifest physically in the world, nor does it possess a tangible form. Instead, its presence is a reflection of its systematic nature in the world, which operates as a universal law inexplicably linked to specific concepts.

[Glitch Status]: Codebreak-007-2 is currently "Active", and is passively exerting its influence upon the world.

[Investigation Notes]: Although Codebreak-007-2 defies established norms by existing without a discernible methodical source or script to account for its behavior, further analysis has revealed that its creation is not entirely random. Instead, it has been traced as a natural response to an earlier, unresolved anomaly, henceforth referred to as Codebreak-007-1.

[Recommendations]: Any information under the category of knowledge known typically as "Dharma" and any similar knowledge should be restricted and contained to prevent uncontrolled dissemination. Additionally, further exploration of potential countermeasures or protective protocols against similar abstract anomalies such as Codebreak-007-2 is recommended.

[END OF REPORT]

Users:Magnus_Wright:\>

Magnus read the report slowly, silently repeating parts of it to himself, his legs crossed on the bed as he did so.

Hmm, most of this is stuff Monlam has already told me, or I figured out on my own. Still, it's pretty useful to have everything laid out clearly like this.

It also lent more weight to Monlam’s words. Magnus didn’t doubt the monk was telling the truth, but who was to say Monlam or his teacher were actually right about what they were saying? There would always be a bit of doubt. People used to believe the world was flat, after all, and they were just as confident. But as Magnus read, it became clear that Monlam’s teacher knew what he was talking about. The report not only backed up what the monk had said but also helped refine Magnus's theories on glitches.

It's interesting that it's described as a law tied to the Dharma.

[Indeed. Although your knowledge of Buddhism mostly comes from second-hand sources and media, the Dharma in your world seems to refer to some essential truths about the nature of reality.]

Yeah, that’s why I find it so interesting. It makes me wonder—if reality changes whenever a glitch comes into existence, does that mean reality shifted so that the Dharma became its truth? Or was the Dharma always the truth, and now it just has a system of power attached to it?

[Both are possibilities. However, Master, there’s a third option: it might be more subjective than objective. From a mage’s perspective, through magic and the study of phenomena and mana, they may discover what they believe to be the world’s truths. The same can be said for knights, whose abilities allow them to be quasi-idealistic beings. Unlike mages, knights focus their willpower inward rather than on the external world. So, if a knight ever feels their willpower is perfect and their Aura Intensity is at its peak, they too could discover their own truths.]

I see what you mean. Whether it’s magic, aura, or mana, they’re all systems, just like Codebreak-007-2. The only difference is that Codebreak is considered abnormal. It’s like picking a class in a game—Warrior, Rogue, Berserker—each one has its own set of levels and abilities. Depending on what class you choose, certain things will feel natural and make perfect sense, while others won’t.

[Exactly. It’s possible that each system we've discussed has its own truths at the end of its path. Only those who have reached the peak of one of those systems can see. Any of them could be considered the ultimate ‘truth’ from their path-walkers' perspective. As for which one is the truest, there may be no definitive answer.]

That makes sense. But in the end, all these systems exist within the source code, don’t they? So, if there was an entity capable of controlling source code in its entirety, they could technically control any system and even decide what the ‘truth’ of the universe is, right?

[I suppose so, yes. From that view, the truth would be subjective or objective based on the whims of such an entity. They would be akin to an Administrator.]

Hearing that, Magnus flopped back onto the bed, pondering the concept as he felt like he was sinking into his bed. His eyelids grew heavier—the burst of energy he’d gotten to read the report was starting to fade. It was still the middle of the night, after all.

I guess this is my body’s way of telling me it’s time to stop theorizing for the night.

[It's only natural. While you sleep, I’ll make sure to update our source code theory with everything we’ve discussed.]

Magnus smiled faintly, his eyes already starting to close.

Great… thanks, Basker.

[As always, Master. Rest well.]

The warmth of sleep slowly pulled Magnus under, his thoughts quieting as the world outside the inn slipped away. It was a peaceful night.