I didn't move for a long time.
The courtyard was empty now, the cracks in the ground slowly sealing themselves as if the world itself wanted to forget what had happened. My breathing eventually steadied, but the echo of the intelligent spirit's words lingered.
You've been noticed.
That wasn't a threat meant for intimidation. It was a warning.
Lumo hovered in front of my face, its light gently pulsing, nudging me back to my feet. My limbs felt heavy, drained of fear energy. I had pushed myself too hard, relying on instinct rather than structure.
"That spirit wasn't wrong," I muttered. "My system is inefficient."
Fear wasn't endless. It needed recovery time. If I kept burning through it like this, I'd die the moment I miscalculated.
As we left the courtyard, I felt it again that subtle pressure in the air. Not spiritual. Not hostile in the way spirits were.
Human.
I slowed my steps.
The fog ahead parted slightly, revealing silhouettes standing on the rooftops. Three figures. Cloaked. Watching.
Spirit Warriors.
I'd heard the term only once before, but now I felt it. Their presence disturbed the flow of fear in the area, pulling at it the same way I did but with far more refinement.
"So the rumors were true," one of them said, his voice calm and sharp. "A new fear harvester."
My instincts screamed danger.
I didn't turn around. "If you're here to fight," I said carefully, "I'm not interested."
A soft laugh echoed. "Relax. If we wanted you dead, you'd already be gone."
That didn't comfort me at all.
They stepped down from the rooftops, boots touching the ground without a sound. All three wore faint markings carved into their skin symbols etched deep, glowing faintly whenever fear stirred nearby.
Veterans.
"You're unregistered," another said, a woman this time. Her gaze flicked to Lumo, sharp with interest. "And you're experimenting with fear games. Dangerous ones."
"So what?" I asked. "Is that illegal?"
"No," the first man replied. "It's inefficient."
I clenched my jaw. That word again.
"Spirit Warriors don't just harvest fear," he continued. "We manage it. Control outbreaks. Prevent intelligent spirits from evolving too far."
My stomach tightened.
"And what happens," I asked slowly, "to those who don't play by your rules?"
The woman smiled faintly. "They become problems."
Silence stretched between us.
Lumo drifted closer to me, its glow dim but steady. I could feel fear energy slowly returning, like water seeping back into dry soil. Not enough for a fight. Barely enough to run.
The man sighed. "You survived an intelligent spirit alone. That means you're talented—or reckless."
"Probably both," I replied.
That earned a short chuckle.
"We'll be watching," he said, turning away. "Refine your circuit. Learn efficiency. If you keep attracting intelligent spirits like that…"
He glanced back at me.
"…you'll draw something far worse."
They vanished into the fog as quietly as they had appeared.
I stood there long after they were gone, heart pounding not with fear this time, but with realization.
Spirits weren't the only threat.
This world had factions. Rules. Power structures.
And I had just stepped onto the board without permission.
I exhaled slowly, eyes hardening.
"Looks like," I said to Lumo, "this game isn't single-player after all."