Insomniac Player

The sun finally broke through the smoke, and somehow that made everything look worse. Darkness had kept the destruction as shapes and silhouettes. Daylight gave him every detail he hadn’t asked for.

"Sleepless." A voice from behind. He turned.

Noah walked up looking like something dragged out of a war film, uniform torn nearly past recognition, one arm bandaged, dried blood crusted across half his face. Somehow his posture stayed perfectly straight through all of it.

"Noah."

Noah stopped in front of him and just stared for a few seconds too long.

"...What."

"Come with me."

"Where."

"You’ll see." Noah started walking without waiting for an answer.

Damien stayed put. "...That’s not suspicious at all."

Noah glanced back over his shoulder. "Come."

He looked at Salma. She shrugged. "Don’t ask me."

Daria stood up. "What’s going on?"

"No idea." Hamari sat bolt upright. "But I want to find out."

He stared at her. "You said you were never moving again."

"Circumstances changed."

Naked Nun stopped whatever she’d been thinking about and got up too.

Noah looked over all of them. "You too. All of you."

Daria pointed at herself. "Us?"

"Everyone."

That got Salma’s attention. She crushed her cigarette out. "Where are we going?"

Noah kept walking instead of answering.

The five of them traded looks. "...Is he always like this?" Damien asked.

"Military," Salma said, like that explained it.

"That explains nothing."

"It explains everything, if you’re paying attention."

The girls laughed and followed anyway. Noah led them clear of the medical zone into a section of the district sealed off from civilians entirely. Two soldiers guarding the checkpoint stepped aside the instant they recognized him, no questions, no ID check, just a clean pass through.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Daria asked again.

Noah said nothing.

Hamari leaned in and whispered, "Maybe we’re getting medals."

Salma snorted. "For what?"

"Saving the city?"

"Half the city thinks we destroyed it."

"Compensation, then?"

Damien perked up. "Money?"

Daria sighed. "Of course that’s what wakes him up."

"I’m always awake."

"...Sure you are."

They kept walking, and that’s when he clocked exactly where Noah was taking them. Hollow Giant bodies lay scattered across the district, most already being handled by government recovery crews, except for one site that had been sealed off completely, black military vehicles ringing it, armed soldiers posted at every angle, a handful of high-ranking government players waiting behind a temporary barrier.

At the center lay the Giant he’d personally killed, head resting several meters clear of its body.

His steps slowed. "..."

The others slowed too. Salma’s expression shifted. "Why hasn’t this one broken down yet?"

Noah finally stopped and turned to face them. "That’s why you’re here."

Damien studied the corpse, something crawling under his skin that he couldn’t name. Every other Giant had started dissolving after death, whether through Collective Evolution or the gatebreak’s own cleanup. This one hadn’t. Black veins spread across its grey flesh, barely visible, moving slow, like something underneath hadn’t gotten the memo that it was supposed to be dead.

Daria stepped closer. "What is that?"

"No idea," Noah said. "Government analysts won’t get near it."

Hamari frowned. "Why not?"

Noah looked straight at Damien. "Because ten minutes ago, it talked."

He pointed at the corpse. "It said something."

Damien’s face went still. Naked Nun whispered, "It’s dead. How does a dead thing talk?"

"I know." Noah’s eyes never left Damien. "That’s the problem."

Damien turned toward the severed head slowly, pulse climbing without his permission.

"Two words," Noah said. "Same as before."

He already knew what they’d be before Noah said them.

"Nightwalker. And Madhash."

Before he could add anything else, his expression changed. A small blue window blinked in beside his face.

➤[Private Message Received.]

He went quiet mid-sentence. Salma noticed instantly. "You were saying?"

He didn’t answer, eyes moving fast across the message. Whatever ease had been sitting in his posture drained out of it. He closed the window and looked straight at Damien.

"Sleepless."

"Mhm?"

"Come with me."

Salma’s frown deepened. "Where?"

A pause, then, "Something confidential." He looked at Damien. "The higher-ups want you brought in for interrogation."

The word landed harder than he expected. Interrogation. His stomach folded in on itself. "...Me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Wasn’t told."

That did nothing to help. Salma stepped forward immediately. "I’m coming."

"No."

"Why not."

"Orders name Damien specifically."

"Don’t care."

"Salma."

"Noah."

Their eyes locked. Neither of them moved for several seconds. Whatever easygoing version of her had been sitting on that ambulance hood an hour ago was gone entirely, replaced by something sharper, more official. "If you’re taking my party member into an interrogation room right after he helped save this city, without a single reason given, I’m coming."

"I don’t have authority to bring you."

"Then get it."

"Salma."

"No."

Damien barely registered any of it, his own mind already running fast in a dozen directions. Had they figured it out? Nightwalker. The legendary items. His disappearance. The Giants themselves. Maybe the government had reached the same conclusion Salma had. Maybe someone had simply heard the word Nightwalker screamed across a battlefield thousands of players wide, and put it together on their own. The mask hid his face, but Sleepless wasn’t exactly an anonymous name anymore, not after today.

He looked toward the military vehicles and, for the first time since waking up in that field two years late, wondered if people might end up being the bigger problem, worse than anything with claws.

Could they lock him up. Force information out of him. Take his equipment. His fingers twitched, checking without thinking. Shadow Dash had reset. Shadow Imitation too.

Running would only make it worse, though, and against Noah specifically, he doubted either skill would get him anywhere useful.

His stomach dropped further. Bad situation, getting worse by the second.

Then another window blinked into view.

➤[Private Message Received.]

He glanced at it without much interest, then froze. His eyes went wide. "..."

Salma stopped arguing mid-sentence. Noah noticed too. He opened it and read, and everything in his expression rearranged itself at once, the anxiety draining out, his shoulders dropping back down where they belonged.

A slow smile crept in behind it.

Noah frowned. Salma stared at him, suspicious now.

He typed something back and waited. Another reply came in fast, and his smile widened further.

Salma crossed her arms. "Who’s messaging you?"

He closed the chat. "Nobody."

"Your whole face just went from ’about to be executed’ to ’I know where the bodies are buried.’"

"That’s oddly specific."

"Who was it?"

He didn’t answer. He looked at Noah instead, the fear gone entirely from his face. "Alright."

Noah raised an eyebrow.

Damien slid his hands into his coat pockets. "Take me to your higher-ups."

Salma stared. "...What did that message say?"

"Nothing important."

"You are a genuinely terrible liar."

"So I’ve heard."

"I’m coming."

"No."

This time it wasn’t Noah saying it. It was him.

Salma’s eyes cut to his. He gave her a small, easy smile. "It’s fine."

"You don’t know that."

"I’ll manage."

"Hapless."

"Doctor."

She stepped in closer. "These aren’t random field officers. If Noah got direct orders this fast after an Epic Gatebreak, someone with actual weight wants you specifically."

"I know."

"And you’re just fine with that?"

He thought about the message again, and the smile came right back. "...Now I am."