GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Chapter 9.2: System Reboot

Where could she go?

I scanned the marketplace again, forcing myself to look at every face, every shadow between stalls. She wasn't here—I hadn't just missed her. My chest tightened further as dread clawed its way into my thoughts.

I turned back to the trinket vendor, leaning in with urgency in my voice. "If she comes back—if that girl comes back—tell her I'm going to the river."

The vendor gave a nonchalant grunt of acknowledgment, barely glancing up from his display of carved pendants.

No point standing here anymore.

Without hesitation, I spun on my heel and started toward the town gate. My legs carried me faster than I intended as I weaved through clusters of townsfolk and market-goers, their voices and movements blurring into background noise.

The river—it had to be there. She mentioned it herself during lunch, hadn't she? Even if this wasn't part of her plan originally... surely it was where she'd end up now.

The river's current thrummed in my ears long before I reached the bank. Mud squelched underfoot as I sprinted, scanning the waterline for any sign of her. Nothing but reeds bending in the breeze. My breath hitched as I pivoted upstream, following the jagged curve of the cliffside.

The hill rose like a broken tooth ahead.

"Lan-neechan!"

She stood silhouetted against the steel-gray sky, dress rippling in the wind. Ten paces from the cliff's edge. Twenty from me. Too far. Her hands hung limp at her sides, strands of hair dancing across eyes that didn't blink at the fifty-foot drop beneath her.

I scrambled up the slope, stones skittering under my boots. "Stop—just stop moving!"

Her head tilted half an inch. "Vel." Flat. Empty.

"What're you—" My throat clamped around the words as her right foot shifted backward. Closer to the void. "Please. Step away. Let's go home."

She gazed at the rushing water below. "You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?" I inched closer, knees trembling. "Whatever it is, we'll fix it. All of us—Mom, Dad—"

"Fix." Her laugh came out brittle. "Like they fixed Oakhaven?"

Ice pricked my spine. The plum-sized bruise on her wrist from Trinon's ropes flashed in my memory. "...It's about the ritual, isn't it? What he wanted to—"

"He didn't lie." Her voice cracked. "The gods truly are silent here."

Another half-step back. Pebbles rained over the edge.

"No! Wait—" My hand shot out across the gulf between us. "If being a Saint mattered that much, do it here. Not for them—for me!"

"It's too late, Vel," Landre's voice came out brittle, cracking at the edges like a splintered mirror. Her shoulders sagged as if carrying an unbearable weight. "I can already feel it. My body... my spirit... something has changed."

Her words froze me in place. The wind carried the faint sound of rushing water below us, but it was drowned out by the pounding in my ears.

"What are you talking about?" My voice felt small, fragile against the vastness of her despair. I stepped closer, each movement cautious and deliberate. "Lan-neechan, you're not making sense—whatever this is, we can fix it!"

She shook her head slowly, her hair catching the wind like threads unraveling. "I can no longer feel warmth toward Shizka... or any god." Her gaze finally lifted to meet mine, and my chest tightened at the emptiness there. "They've grown distant."