GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Vol 2 - Chapter 29.2: Stack Overflow

"The orientation..." Vel murmured, drawing curious glances from Celia and Tomas.

In his mind, he traced invisible lines from each statue, following their sightlines across the arena. The lines intersected at a single point near the center, forming a perfect leyline pattern.

"This... is the center," Vel whispered, moving toward the spot where all the invisible lines converged.

At first, nothing happened as he stepped onto the unremarkable patch of stone. Celia watched him with confusion, about to ask what he was doing.

Then came the sound—a deep, grinding noise of stone against stone that echoed throughout the empty arena. Vel froze in place as all seven statues' heads slowly turned toward him, their stone eyes seeming to stare directly at him.

"What's happening?" Celia's voice was tight with alarm.

Vel couldn't answer. He watched in stunned silence as each statue's head had turned until they all looked directly toward him, their stone eyes seeming to stare into his soul.

His interface suddenly flickered to life before his eyes, notifications chiming rapidly:

[COMMUNICATION PROTOCOL ESTABLISHED]

[Authentication: pending]

[Verified]

[DISTRESS MESSAGE: PLAYBACK INITIATED]

Vel gasped as his vision blurred, the arena dissolving around him. Reality shattered, replaced by fragmented images that tore through his consciousness.

Withered human forms with vacant, hollow eyes moved through a mountain village. Their movements were unnaturally synchronized, bodies shambling forward in perfect unison. The sound of their breathing—a rhythmic, rasping noise—echoed in his mind with mechanical precision.

The vision shifted. Landre stood with her arms outstretched, light pouring from her palms against an encroaching wall of darkness. But the shadows consumed her light, creeping closer despite her efforts. Her face contorted with desperation as the darkness threatened to overwhelm her.

[VOID ANOMALY IMMINENT: AIR NEXUS]

Information flooded into Vel's mind—coordinates, sensations, knowledge. Northern mountains. Between two peaks. A village. Something ancient stirring beneath the earth.

Then came the cry—a piercing, mournful sound that Vel recognized instantly. Not with his ears, but with something deeper. The majestic call of a thunderbird in distress, a plea for help that resonated in his bones.

Dark mist spread across the landscape like ink in water, consuming everything it touched. Trees withered, animals fled, and the synchronized humans marched steadily onward, spreading the corruption.

As quickly as it had appeared, the vision collapsed, leaving Vel gasping for breath. He fell to his knees on the arena floor, one name burning in his mind with terrifying clarity.

"Alukah..." he whispered, the word falling from his lips like a curse.

The realization crystallized in his mind. Alukah—one of the most powerful raid bosses from Aeonalus. But something was wrong. It was tainted, corrupted by the Void, its original purpose twisted into something monstrous.

And it was taking over the Air Nexus. Whatever that was, Vel knew it was catastrophic.

"Zephyr..." The name came unbidden to his lips, not as some distant deity but as something precious and personal—something he couldn't bear to lose.

The thunderbird. The Air Primordial. It was crying for help.

"Vel! VEL!" Celia called out, her face inches from his, eyes wide with concern. "Are you unwell? Have you been practicing too much?"

She gripped his shoulders, steadying him as he swayed. This wasn't the first time she'd witnessed one of his episodes, but the intensity of his reaction clearly alarmed her.

Tomas rushed over, kneeling beside them. "What happened? You just froze and then collapsed."

Vel's thoughts scattered with fragments of the vision—the withered villagers, the spreading darkness, Landre's desperate struggle against the encroaching void. His sister was in danger. Real, immediate danger.

"I need to find Lan-neechan," he said, his voice hoarse as he struggled to his feet. "Now."

"But why?" Celia's grip on his arm tightened. "What happened?"

Tomas looked between them, confusion written across his face. "Your sister? The Saint?"

"Something bad is happening to her," Vel said, already moving toward the arena exit. The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.

The statues had returned to their original positions, as though nothing had happened. But Vel knew better. The message had been meant for him alone—a desperate plea from beings he'd once known, now fighting against something that threatened this entire world.

Vel stumbled up the arena steps, his legs unsteady beneath him. Celia followed close behind, her face etched with concern.

"Vel, wait! You're not making sense," she called after him.

He paused at the top of the stairs, the weight of what he'd just experienced settling heavily upon him. For months, he'd been caught up in Academy politics and tournament preparations, almost forgetting the strange circumstances that had brought him here. He'd been so focused on adapting to this life that he'd pushed aside the fundamental questions of his existence in this world.

But now, standing in an arena marked with familiar designs, those questions could no longer be ignored. Why was he here? What was happening to this world? And most urgently—was Landre in danger?

"I need to send a message to Lan-neechan," he said, turning to face Celia. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."

"How do you know?" Tomas asked, catching up to them. "What did you see down there?"

Vel hesitated. How could he even begin to explain what he'd just experienced? The tournament suddenly seemed distant, though he knew it couldn't be abandoned. But first, he needed to warn his sister. Somehow.

"I just know," he said finally. "Call it a brother's intuition."

He glanced back at the arena, at the seven stone Primodials standing in silent vigil. They had sent him a message—ancient guardians reaching out across whatever barriers separated them.