Three words. Just three words spoken by the old man, but the impact was like an ice blade stabbed into Mara's ribs. "She should be dead." That hoarse voice trembled, full of fear so pure it felt like a physical object. Lumi, whose hand was still gripping Mara's cloak tightly, moved almost imperceptibly—hiding her face in the folds of fabric.
The old man stepped back, both his cloudy eyes widening, trapped between Lumi's half-hidden face and Mara's disguised figure. His cracked lips trembled, emitting a whisper that was almost inaudible. "Glitch child… curse bearer."
Glitch child. The term tickled Mara's memory—something she had heard on player forums years ago, in conspiracy theory threads about database bugs that randomly deleted NPC quests. But this wasn't an NPC quest. This was Lumi.
"What do you mean?" Mara's voice—Caela the traveler's voice—emerged flatter than she had planned. She stepped forward, slightly placing her body between the old man and Lumi. Her instinct screamed to drag the man to a more secluded place, but her movements had to be slow. Natural. Not drawing attention.
The old man glanced left and right, his breath coming in short gasps. The market crowd continued moving at the end of the alley, the sounds of bargaining and footsteps forming a perfect noise blanket. "Not here," he hissed, his voice breaking. "Not… here. Dangerous, they're listening."
They. Who? The Church? Players? The System? Mara nodded, once, sharply. "Show me."
The old man turned, his hunched body moving with surprising agility, following a narrow alley filled with piles of goods and the fishy smell of stagnant water. Mara followed, one hand holding tightly Lumi's small, cold hand. Her mind spun rapidly.
Curse bearer. Should be dead. What's the connection to the vanished village? East Elmwood? The Church's cleansing quest? This isn't a coincidence. This is a puzzle, and we've just been given a piece that makes the previous picture all wrong.
The alley wound, moving away from the light and bustle of the market. They entered a darker area—the city's trash area, perhaps, or the back area of storage places. The smell of rot and mold hung strong. The old man stopped at a dead end, behind a pile of decayed wooden barrels. He looked around again, making sure no one was following. His eyes, which now appeared whiter in the darkness, looked at Lumi again.
"She's from there," he whispered, his wrinkled finger pointing northeast—roughly toward the mountains. "From the forgotten valley. Aethelgard Valley."
The name wasn't unfamiliar. Mara summoned her memory. Aethelgard. That was a region name in the game, a leveling zone for level 20-30 players. But in this real world map, that region was destroyed years ago in a border war. Now all that remained was no-man's-land.
"Aethelgard no longer exists," said Mara, carefully.
"Doesn't exist!" the old man hissed, his voice suddenly loud before he himself was startled and lowered his head. "Doesn't exist on maps. Doesn't exist in travelers' memories. But three months ago… three months ago, something happened." He shivered, hugging himself. "I'm a guide. I led logistics caravans, passing through the ridge path. We saw it from a distance. That valley… still existed. But wrong. Very wrong."
Mara was silent, letting the tension settle. She felt Lumi pressing harder into her lap.
"The sky above it was striped," the old man continued, his eyes empty, looking back at the memory. "Like torn fabric. Colors that shouldn't exist—purple, dark green, like oil on water. And silent. No bird sounds. No wind. Just… a low hum. Like the sound of a dying giant machine." He drew a noisy breath. "My caravan stopped. The captain said, 'it's a region glitch. The system is repairing itself.' But then…"
He stopped, biting his own lip until it bled.
"Then?" Mara urged, her voice louder than she intended.
"Light," the old man whispered. "White light, very bright, but not blinding. Coming from the center of the valley. Spreading slowly, like a wave. And every place it touched… disappeared." He shook his head, tears beginning to pool in the corners of his eyes. "Houses. Trees. Livestock. People we saw from a distance working in the fields. They didn't scream. They didn't run. They just… stopped. And then faded. Like being erased by a giant eraser. Layer by layer. Until nothing remained. Only empty land. And that striped sky slowly returned to normal too."
Cold seeped from the tips of Mara's feet throughout her body. Erasure. Not destruction. Erasure from the world's database. This was a system-level bug. Even the wildest theories on player forums only talked about missing items, reset NPCs. Not entire landscapes.
"We ran," the old man continued. "No one spoke. We arrived at Crossbell, and when we tried to tell the story, no one believed. Maps showed nothing. Quest logs recorded nothing. Even the Church priest we met only said it was a 'demonic mirage' and told us to pray. But I know what I saw." He looked at Lumi again, and this time, there was a kind of deep sadness behind his fear. "And one week after the incident, I saw her. At the edge of the forest, near the same path. A small child, alone, sitting on a rock. With those two-colored eyes. She wore simple clothes, but clean. Too clean for a child lost in the forest. And she just stared blankly toward the valley that no longer existed."
Lumi didn't move. Her breath was slow and regular. But Mara could feel a subtle tremor in those small shoulders.
"I tried to approach," said the old man, his voice growing smaller. "But every time I stepped closer, she… blinked. Like a bad signal. Like a disrupted image. I shouted, asked her name. She didn't answer. Then, she turned to me. And for a moment, those gold and gray eyes… shone. Not like magic. But like glass reflecting light that didn't exist. I ran. I left her there. And when I dared to return the next day, she was already gone."
He drew a long, trembling breath. "I told some other guides. They said I was going senile. But then, rumors started circulating. Word of mouth, among us who are often on the road. About a 'ghost child' who appears in places that have experienced 'system corrections'. Always alone. Always with strange eyes. And always… surviving things that should have annihilated everything." He looked directly at Mara. "The Church says it's divine punishment for the disobedient. Players say it's an unpatched bug. But I know this: that child shouldn't exist. The world has erased her. But she's still here. And every time she appears, something bad will happen. A walking curse."
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So that's why, Mara thought, her brain connecting dots at a speed that made her slightly nauseous. Lumi isn't just a survivor. She's a walking system anomaly. An error with consciousness. Glitch child. Her old gamer instinct flared. This is the type of hidden lore quest that usually leads to world secrets or hidden raid bosses. But this isn't a quest. This is real. And this is a child who sleeps in the room next to hers, who likes to arrange twigs into strange shapes.
She crouched, slowly, so she was level with Lumi. The child raised her face. Her heterochromatic eyes, usually empty, now looked… heavy. Like holding something too big for her tiny body.
"Lumi," Mara whispered, her real voice—Nyxaria's voice—almost leaked out, but she held it back. "Do you remember that valley? Your home?"
Lumi blinked. Slowly. Then she nodded, once, almost imperceptibly.
"Did… anyone hurt you there?"
Lumi shook her head.
"Did something happen? Before that light?"
Lumi was silent for a long time. Then, she opened her mouth, her voice small and flat as usual. "Everyone stopped."
"Stopped?"
"Stopped moving. Stopped talking. Like statues. Then… decayed. Like sand." Lumi looked at her own hands, as if seeing something others couldn't see. "I didn't decay. I just… stayed there. And then the valley disappeared. And I was alone. Then there was a voice."
Mara held her breath. "What voice?"
"A voice from the sky. From everywhere. Said… 'Entity not detected. Status: Glitched. Handling postponed.'" Lumi mimicked that voice with terrible monotone—the cold, emotionless voice of the system. "Then the voice left. And I could walk again. But there was nothing left. So I walked, until Ghost Mama found me."
Entity not detected. Handling postponed. Those words hung in the air like poison. The system acknowledged the existence of an anomaly, but chose to postpone handling it. Why? Because too busy? Or because Lumi was considered harmless? Or… because there was another priority?
She remembered the system notification when she first met Lumi. No classification. No level. Only a "???" mark. The system actively ignored her.
The old man listened with a pale face. "She… she heard the voices of the gods?"
"Not gods," Mara refuted shortly, standing again. "That's the system. The mechanism of this world." She looked at Lumi, and for the first time since finding her in the ruins, she saw not just a child who needed protection, but evidence—evidence that this world had cracks. That its rules could be broken. That there was something very broken behind the scenes.
The feeling came just like that: a bond deeper than just a sense of responsibility. This was the solidarity of the outcasts. She, who shouldn't exist as Nyxaria with free will. Lumi, who should have been erased by the system. They were both errors. Living mistakes.
She reached for the small pouch at her waist—a simple money pouch containing several silver and copper pieces. She took all of it, then pressed it into the old man's hand. "Thank you," she said, and this time, there was a tone of authority that could no longer be hidden. "But you never saw us. You never spoke to us. Forget this face. Forget this story. For your own safety."
The old man looked at the coins in his hand, then stared at Mara. And in his eyes, there was recognition—an understanding that the woman in front of him was not an ordinary traveler. He nodded, quickly, fearfully. "I… I didn't see anything. I'm just an old man talking to himself."
"Good." Mara held Lumi's shoulder, preparing to leave. But before she turned, the old man spoke again, his voice almost lost.
"Be careful with the Church. They have tools… to detect what shouldn't be. They call it 'Anomaly Cleansing'. And they pay well for information."
Mara nodded, then pulled Lumi out of that dark corner. They walked quickly, returning to the brighter alley, blending with the crowd. But this time, every glance that briefly looked at them felt like needles. Every white Church uniform that passed made Mara's shoulder muscles tense.
They have detection tools. That explains the paladin earlier. He might not have detected my demonic aura because of [Mimicry Veil], but he could sense something strange about Lumi. Or maybe, he was just curious. But we can't take risks.
"We're going home," she whispered to Lumi.
The child nodded, then suddenly pulled Mara's sleeve. "Ghost Mama."
"Yes, dear?"
Lumi pointed in an indeterminate direction—to a narrow alley between two stone building shops. "Sparkle. But… different. Like a hole."
Sparkle? Her Glitch Sight detected something. Mara looked around. No one was paying attention to them. She decided. "Show me."
They entered that alley. It was a dead end, full of boxes and trash. But at the end, on the seemingly ordinary stone wall, Lumi stopped and pointed to an empty spot in the air, at eye level. "Here. The data… is torn. Like a wound."
Mara extended her hand. Her fingers touched the air—and pierced something cold and static. A sensation like static electricity crawled on her skin. And then, before her eyes, a system window appeared—not an official notification, but like a distorted error message.
[DATA CONNECTION SEVERED]
[REGION ENTRY:AEthelgard_Lower_Valley]
[STATUS:CORRUPTED]
[REFRESHING…FAILED.]
[RECOMMENDATION:DELETE CORRUPTED ENTRY.]
The text blinked weakly red, then faded. But its trace remained—a small visual distortion, like a bubble on glass surface. An unrepaired glitch hole.
This is the point where world data is broken. Where the valley was erased. Mara drew a breath. Lumi could see this damage. She could point directly at wounds in reality.
She knelt again, looking at Lumi. "Can you always see things like this?"
Lumi nodded. "Sometimes. The closer to the missing place, the more holes. But… not everyone disappeared. Only some."
"What do you mean?"
"I see other people. In other places. Who are like me. But… far away. And that voice says they will be 'handled'." Lumi clasped her small hands, mimicking a pinching gesture. "I don't want to be handled."
Those words, spoken with a child's innocence, made Mara's heart stop for a moment. There are others. Other anomalies. And the system is actively 'handling' them. What does 'handled' mean? Erased? Reset? Or something worse?
She pulled Lumi into an embrace, tight. That small body felt light and fragile. "I won't let anyone 'handle' you, Lumi. I promise."
She stood, carrying Lumi in her arms. The child clung tightly, her head resting on Mara's shoulder. They left the alley, returned to the main road, and walked toward the city gate. Mara's mind spun, digesting all the information.
This world's system isn't perfect. It has bugs—bugs that can erase entire regions along with their contents. And those bugs leave victims: entities that were missed, like Lumi, who continue to exist even though they shouldn't. The Church knows about this, and they hunt these anomalies under the pretext of 'cleansing'. Players consider them ghost stories or ordinary bugs. But the reality is darker: this world is slowly cleaning up its own mistakes. And Lumi is one of the mistakes that hasn't been cleaned up yet.
So, we're not just dealing with toxic guilds and a corrupt Church. We're also dealing with a flawed world system. And we, Lumi and I, are part of that flaw.
They arrived at the gate. The same guard nodded them through, unconcerned. The fresh night air struck them as they stepped outside the city walls. The sky was studded with stars, two moons hanging like watching eyes.
Mara walked along the path, her speed slightly faster than ordinary humans. She needed to return to the sanctuary. She needed to think. She needed to plan.
Lumi, who had been silent during the journey, suddenly raised her head. Her breath changed—becoming faster, shallower.
"Ghost Mama," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"What is it, dear?"
Lumi hugged her neck tighter. "I hear the voice again."
Mara stopped. "The system voice?"
"No. The voice that… is different. Softer. But closer." Lumi closed her eyes, as if concentrating. "It says… 'be careful'. It says… 'you're in danger'."
Ice flowed in Mara's veins. "Who says that? Where?"