Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Sunlight filtered through the tall castle windows, painting golden lines across the stone floor. NPC servants moved about their routines, smiling politely, unaware that reality itself had almost collapsed a few hours ago. Everything looked normal.
That was what scared me.
I sat at the edge of my bed, staring at the system menu floating lazily in front of me. No alarms. No warnings. Just the usual clean interface… except for one thing.
Corruption Meter: 31%
It pulsed softly, like it was alive.
"Still there," I muttered.
Arcelia stood near the window, armor already on. She hadn't slept. I could tell by the way her posture was stiff, alert, like she expected something to jump out at any second.
"Master," she said quietly, "nothing happened last night."
"Yeah," I replied. "That's the problem."
Lyra entered the room moments later, carrying a stack of books that absolutely did not belong in a medieval fantasy castle. She dropped them on the table with a tired sigh.
"I checked the system logs again," she said. "No new entries. No warnings. No corrections."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're saying the system is pretending nothing's wrong."
"Yes," she said flatly. "And the system never pretends."
I leaned back on my hands. "So either it gave up… or it's waiting."
Arcelia turned toward me sharply. "Waiting for what?"
"For me to mess up," I said. "Or for the perfect moment."
Silence followed.
We left the room shortly after, deciding that sitting around doing nothing was a bad idea. If something was watching, I wasn't going to give it the satisfaction of seeing me panic.
The castle corridors were busy. Too busy. NPCs walked past us, laughing, chatting, repeating dialogue that now sounded… wrong. Like actors reading lines while the stage burned behind them.
As we walked, I felt it again.
That presence.
Not pressure. Not hostility. Just awareness.
I stopped.
Arcelia stopped immediately. "Master?"
Lyra frowned. "You feel it too, don't you."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. We're not alone."
We continued walking, but my eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. The light didn't behave properly anymore. Shadows stretched where they shouldn't. Corners looked deeper than before.
Then I saw her.
At the far end of the hallway, near a pillar half-swallowed by darkness, stood Kuroha.
She wasn't hiding.
She wasn't attacking.
She was leaning casually against the stone, arms crossed, eyes closed—as if she were waiting for someone to notice her.
"That's not creepy at all," I muttered.
Arcelia's hand went straight to her sword. "Shadow assassin."
Kuroha opened one eye.
"I prefer my name," she said calmly.
Lyra stiffened. "You… you let yourself be seen."
"Yes," Kuroha replied. "You noticed me anyway."
I sighed. "Fair point."
She pushed herself off the pillar and took a few slow steps forward. No rush. No killing intent. Just confidence.
"The system is unstable," she said. "And you are the cause."
"Wow," I replied. "Straight to the point. I respect that."
Her gaze didn't leave me. "You don't fear me."
I shrugged. "I do. Just not enough to run."
For a brief moment—just a fraction of a second—I saw something flicker across her face. Interest.
"The system is watching you," she continued. "It hasn't decided what you are yet."
Lyra clenched her fists. "Then why haven't you acted?"
Kuroha glanced at her. "Because killing you now would be… premature."
That word sent a chill down my spine.
"Premature," I repeated. "So you're saying I get a grace period?"
"In a way," she said. "You're an experiment."
I laughed. "Wow. I really know how to pick my reincarnations."
Kuroha stopped a few steps away from me. Close enough that I could feel the cold radiating from her presence.
"You're changing things," she said quietly. "Not breaking them. Changing them. The system doesn't know how to respond to that."
I frowned. "So what happens when it figures it out?"
Her eyes met mine fully now. Sharp. Focused. Dangerous.
"Then," she said, "it will stop observing."
Arcelia stepped forward. "And do what?"
Kuroha turned away slightly, shadows already wrapping around her legs.
"Correct."
Before I could say anything else, she dissolved into darkness, fading like smoke caught by the wind.
The hallway felt brighter after she left.
Too bright.
Lyra exhaled shakily. "She wasn't lying."
"No," I said softly. "She wasn't."
My system menu flickered.
Just once.
A single line of text appeared, then vanished before Lyra could grab it.
But I saw it.
"Observation Phase: Near Completion."
I clenched my jaw.
Yeah.
Whatever was coming next…
The system was done watching.