Chapter 11: Trauma Behind the Mask
The guild hall hummed with a different kind of quiet after the city-wide assault. The air still carried the faint tang of burnt data, a lingering reminder of the chaotic battle. Livia, though physically exhausted, knew her work wasn't done. The system's warnings, the ever-present threat of the portal, and the unsettling Origin Signature notification weighed heavily on her. But first, she had another hero to mend.
StarSlinger, Alex, usually the most outwardly cheerful and sarcastic member of the guild, sat hunched over his crossbow, meticulously cleaning it with a rag. His goggles were pushed up on his forehead, revealing eyes that, for once, lacked their usual playful glint. He missed several spots, his movements jerky and unfocused. Livia sensed the familiar flicker of emotional turmoil beneath his bravado.
Livia approached him gently, her voice soft. "Alex, you seem... distracted."
He flinched, then managed a weak smile. "Just… tired, Livia. That was a tough one. The Cleaners are getting smarter, huh?" But his gaze darted away, avoiding hers.
Livia sat beside him. "It's more than that, isn't it?" she prompted, her voice firm but compassionate. She recognized the signs; a hero in need of healing beyond hit points. "You hesitated a few times out there. Especially when you needed to make quick decisions."
Alex sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of something far heavier than game fatigue. He ran a hand through his hair, finally meeting her gaze, his usual sarcasm completely gone. "Alright, you got me, Buffer," he muttered, the despised nickname slipping out without thought. "It's… my past. Before this game, I was really into competitive esports. Thought I was hot stuff. But I choked. Big time. Lost a crucial match for my team because I froze at a key moment. Cost us everything." He clenched his fist. "I play this game to escape that feeling of failure. To be good, to not disappoint my team again. But out there, when the pressure's on, that fear of making a mistake... it just paralyzes me. I'm afraid of letting you guys down, Livia. Afraid of failing my team again." His voice cracked slightly on the last words, a raw vulnerability Livia rarely saw in him.
Livia felt a wave of empathy wash over her. Alex, the confident sharpshooter, was haunted by a very real, very human fear of not being good enough, of letting others down. "I'm a Mental Supporter, not an ego savior! And this isn't a solo game, Alex! We win or lose as a team!" she retorted, but there was no anger in her voice, only a deep understanding. She placed a hand on his shoulder, channeling EmpathySpark. A gentle warmth flowed from her into him, focusing on the knot of self-doubt and past trauma. [THERAPY SUCCESSFUL +100 EXP.]
As Livia poured her energy into him, she felt the oppressive weight of Alex's past disappointment. It was like experiencing the bitter taste of defeat herself, the crushing blow of a lost dream. But as she worked, that bitterness began to dissolve, replaced by a surge of rekindled confidence, a belief in his own instincts. Alex's shoulders relaxed, and he took a deep, steady breath. His eyes, though still tired, now held a renewed sparkle, a glimmer of his old playful self.
"Woah," Alex breathed, shaking his head. "That felt… different. Like a reset button for my brain. Thanks, Livia. You're like an MC from a shounen anime who gives power-ups in the heavy arc!" He grinned, picking up his crossbow with a new sense of purpose.
Sari, NightBlade, leaning against a pillar, smirked. "He's not wrong. You're basically the ultimate SSR character, Livia! Everyone wants to pull you!"
Mei, SakuraSorceress, nodded in agreement. "This therapy session feels like a redemption arc in an anime! I love it when villains turn into heroes, but a hero getting stronger is even better!"
StormReaver, Ethan, approached, his gaze soft as he watched Livia. He could see the faint shimmer of exhaustion around her avatar, the slight slump of her shoulders. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. His thumb stroked the back of her digital hand, a tender, comforting gesture. "You're amazing, Livia," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You don't just heal us in battle. You make us a real team. You make us stronger, as people. Thank you." He gently squeezed her hand, a silent acknowledgment of her burden, then his other hand reached out and softly rubbed her back, a simple, profound gesture of support that made Livia's heart flutter. In his touch, she felt the silent strength he offered, a promise to share her burdens.
Meanwhile, PsychoBlaze, Rian, was back on his virtual keyboard, but this time, his movements were frantic, his face pale with a mix of excitement and grim discovery. "Livia! Guild! I found more!" he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency. "The news article from the university forum... it has more details about the accident. Motorcycle hit-and-run, critical condition, severe head trauma... Livia, it's all there. The hospital, the ward, even a contact name for her family. This isn't just a rumor anymore. This is you." He quickly shared the link to the guild chat, his fingers trembling. "I'm trying to contact the hospital, get a real person on the line."
Livia's head swam. The comforting warmth from Ethan's touch faded, replaced by a searing pain behind her eyes, a familiar, agonizing throb. The details Rian provided, the cold, clinical language of the accident report, painted a vivid, horrifying picture that aligned perfectly with her fragmented nightmares. Critical condition... severe head trauma. The words echoed in her mind, a terrifying affirmation. If I'm in a coma, am I just data here? A ghost in the machine, playing out a dying dream? And if I'm not just data, what happens to them—to Anton, to the newly awakened NPCs, to this guild, to Ethan—if I suddenly go? If I wake up? Or if I... don't? Will they cease to exist? Will they remember me? The thought was a chilling prospect, a fear far greater than any Cleaner. The pain in her head sharpened, mirroring the intense pressure from her hospital dreams. The boundary between her Aethelgard Nexus reality and the horrifying truth of her physical body became indistinguishable, a swirling vortex of confusion.
Suddenly, a series of low groans and gasps rippled through the guild hall, drawing Livia's attention away from her internal torment. Several NPCs who had taken shelter there—a quiet NPC Guard who usually stood sentry, the grumpy Blacksmith NPC from whom they bought repairs, even the perpetually cheerful NPC Quest Giver—staggered. Their eyes, once dull and programmed, snapped open, wide and filled with a mixture of profound bewilderment, nascent terror, and a chilling flicker of dawning sentience. Their digital forms pulsed faintly, as if struggling against an invisible constraint.
"Buffer," the NPC Guard croaked, its voice rough, filled with a newfound urgency. "We... we know something strange. Fragments of... memories. Not ours. They're coming for you! For us!" He pointed a trembling, gauntleted hand towards the sky, towards the still-healing tear in the digital firmament. "They're coming again, through the dark sky! For you!" The other awakened NPCs huddled together, their faces etched with a shared, bewildered terror, yet a collective, desperate resolve. "We… we follow you, Buffer." They formed a small, unexpected alliance, their eyes fixed on Livia, their silent plea for guidance echoing the desperate cries of their newly awakened brethren outside.