Under the quiet glow of the Resting Willow inn, the small room where Ren was staying was shrouded in a strange stillness.
No more footsteps echoed in the hallway, nor did the passing greetings of wandering players, everything had sunken into silence.
Ren lay motionless on the bed, eyes wide open, staring at the wooden ceiling, where light cracks and warped grain lines formed meaningless shapes.
The light from the magical lamp in the corner of the room flickered against the ceiling, like moonlight trying to slip through gaps in the clouds.
He should be asleep.
Tomorrow would be the first battle he joined with a large group, the floor boss raid, a milestone that could change the entire course of the game.
A chance to rise above, but also a death sentence for anyone unprepared.
But Ren couldn't sleep.
Not out of fear, or at least, that's what he told himself. It was just… too many things were stuck in his mind.
The faces from the meeting came back to him. Diavel, with the confident eyes of a leader. Kibou, who always demanded fairness for regular players.
Kirito, calm like a still lake, and Asuna, someone he didn't understand at all, yet carried something difficult to describe.
Even the way Kirito blinked when he mentioned Klein, or the moment the girl in the brown cloak let go of her weapon upon seeing him sit down...
They all swirled in Ren's head, as if he was trying to piece together a picture too large, from fragments that didn't quite fit.
After lying in silence for a while, he let out a soft sigh and sat up.
The old bed creaked beneath his weight, the sound echoing strangely in the quiet space.
He slipped on his leather shoes, pulled the thin cloak from the bedpost over his shoulders, and stepped into the hallway.
The night air was cold, but not biting. It brushed across his face, carrying the damp scent of earth and the fragrance of potted plants from the lower balcony.
Ren leaned gently against the railing, gazing down at the town bathed in dim light.
The stone-paved streets lay quietly beneath the magical lanterns, their glow shimmering softly like flowing water, painting a scene blurred between dream and reality.
A few players were still awake, their silhouettes moving in silence. Some were gathered in the plaza, seemingly hosting a small party, those who wanted to savor one last night before wagering their lives in a real battle come morning.
Ren didn't join. He never felt like he belonged to such revelry.
He quietly left the hallway, descending the wooden stairs, his footsteps barely a whisper in the night.
And just like that, he stepped out of the inn, hands tucked under his cloak, gaze lost in thought.
No destination in mind.
He just wanted to walk.
To stop the thoughts from chaining him down like invisible links. To let the worry, the loneliness, and the disconnection from reality melt away in the rhythm of quiet steps.
He passed through the central plaza, where the fountain still trickled as if nothing was happening. Crowded and noisy by day, it now held only the sound of falling water and wind brushing past the rooftops.
Ren paused for a moment, leaning lightly on the stone railing beside the fountain. His eyes quietly followed the ripples on the water's surface.
In that water, he saw his own reflection. Messy hair, deep and tired eyes.
A face still so young, yet carrying the fatigue of someone who had wandered too long in a dream with no exit.
He tilted his head slightly.
He didn't know when it began, this habit of walking alone. Not because he feared others. Not because he wanted to be some lone hero.
But because… he no longer knew what he could believe in.
And when one cannot believe, all that's left is to rely on oneself.
Ren closed his eyes for a moment. Listening to the wind, the water, and the steady beat of his heart.
Tomorrow would be a long day.
Possibly a very long one. Possibly… the last.
But at the very least, right now, in this peaceful night and faint light of an artificial world, he could allow himself to simply exist, not as a symbol in a game, not as a player.
Just as Ren.
Someone still moving forward.
Even if much remained unclear. Even if tomorrow held nothing certain.
The party in the plaza seemed to have ended. The laughter, the toasts, and the clinking of virtual glasses had all faded into faint echoes in the air.
Under the dim golden streetlights, the town returned to its natural quiet, tranquil, and a little melancholic.
Only a few players still wandered the streets. Some whispered softly to each other, shoulder to shoulder, as if clinging to the last moments of peace before the storm.
Others sat alone in silence, their eyes distant, lost in thoughts...perhaps of a home beyond this world, or of names that had already disappeared from their friend lists.
Ren still stood there, near the fountain, where the gentle streams of water continued to fall steadily into the pond, creating soft ripples across the surface.
He gazed at it one last time.
Not because it was beautiful. He simply wanted to watch the drops of water glimmer in the night, like guiding lights, telling him where to go.
Ren raised a hand and gently pulled the ash-gray hood back over his head. The fabric obscured most of his face, revealing only a pair of cold, sharp eyes...eyes accustomed to seeing things no one else wanted to face.
The dim glow of the streetlamp slid across his cloak, casting a long shadow on the stone pavement. No one noticed him. No one called his name. And, as usual, he wasn't looking for that either.
Ren turned around and walked slowly under the pale yellow lights, blending into the winding paths of a town deep in slumber.
No one knew where he was headed.
Maybe... even he didn't know.
He just wanted to walk a little, before everything began.
Then... a very faint sound echoed in the silence. Footsteps...slow and heavy, coming from some corner of the cobbled street ahead.
Ren stopped immediately.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning quickly toward the source of the sound.
From under the eaves of a low-roofed house, a figure stepped out of the shadows. For a few seconds, only the faint light from a nearby streetlamp illuminated the pale blue cloak, distinctive, familiar, before the face became clear:
Diavel...
He was walking slowly, with a contemplative look, as if just finishing a long and tiring conversation.
The usual confident smile was gone, along with the vibrant aura of a leader standing amidst a crowd. Now, Diavel looked like someone carrying a burden too heavy, and had just set it down for a moment...just to breathe.
Ren narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't intend to call out, merely stood there in the dark to see whether Diavel would recognize him.
And then the young leader's gaze met his.
Diavel paused for a moment. Maybe he was surprised. Or perhaps he was just wondering why someone like Ren would be here at this hour.
Then, Diavel began to walk toward him...not fast, not slow, each step maintaining the calm demeanor he always displayed in front of others.
"...Can't sleep?" Diavel's voice came as he was a few steps away.
Ren gave a slight nod, kept silent for a moment before replying in an even tone, "Yeah. Just wanted to take a walk. What about you?"
Diavel gave a small smile, not entirely joyful. "Just finished a private meeting. There are... a few things that still need to be prepared before morning."
Ren didn't ask further. But his gaze lingered a little longer on Diavel's face, who, at this moment, away from the crowd, looked entirely different. Not arrogant, nor overly optimistic. Just a man bearing the weight of thousands of players' hopes.
Maybe... just someone trying to survive.
A short silence hung between them...not awkward, but rich with unspoken understanding.
Then Diavel looked down the road and exhaled softly, "Tomorrow won't be easy."
Ren nodded. "I know."
Diavel glanced at him, his eyes softening slightly. "Then... I'm glad you'll be there with us."
Ren didn't respond immediately. But the corners of his lips lifted, not quite a smile, just a subtle curve, as if saying: "I didn't expect that either."
And so, the two of them, one seen as the center, the other always lingering on the sidelines, stood together under the fading light, in a rare moment of calm before the storm.
"Why?" Ren suddenly asked, his voice not loud, but clear enough to echo through the empty street.
In that tone was something difficult to define, not quite suspicion, not entirely discontent. Perhaps... part hesitation, part disbelief that he was even asking this.
Diavel stopped right away. He turned to look at Ren, his eyes sharp and swift, as if trying to read something in the other's gaze.
"...Why?" Diavel repeated the question, furrowing his brow slightly.
A breeze swept through, making both their cloaks flutter lightly.
He didn't answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on Ren's face, as though weighing whether to speak the truth... or hold something back.
Ren didn't say more either. He stood still, both hands hidden under his cloak, head slightly bowed, but his gaze remained firm, as if waiting for something honest.
After a long silence, Diavel finally spoke:
"Because I need people like you."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm.
"Not the kind who are just strong. Not the kind who nod at everything I say. But... someone who dares to keep a distance. Who dares to look at me without getting swept up in the illusion of a perfect leader."
Ren raised his head slightly, as if that answer was not what he expected.
Diavel stepped forward, standing closer now, his voice dropping lower:
"You don't trust me. I know. But that's exactly why... you're someone I can trust."
In that moment, under the hazy glow of the streetlamp and the lonely sounds of a sleeping town, both of them fell silent. Not because there was nothing more to say, but because the words just spoken... carried too much weight.
Ren didn't reply. But his gaze softened, as if something inside him had been quietly untied, just a little, but enough to make him stand straighter.
Diavel said no more.
Ren remained where he was, silent in the breeze, as though holding onto a different question meant only for himself.