I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 67: [66] The Glass and the Goggles

"He’s not wrong about the scrawny part," I said, squinting against the glare of three suns that felt like they were trying to bleach my eyeballs. I adjusted my grip on the rusty knife, feeling the heat radiating off the white glass dune beneath my boots. "But Gondar didn’t mention he had a sister who looked like she just stepped out of a sci-fi thriller."

Jace snorted, a mechanical, static-filled sound that smoothed out once she toggled a switch on her collar. She stuck her radar scanner into a magnetic holster at her hip and slid a pair of tinted goggles over her eyes. "Gondar is an idiot. He probably forgot he had a sister the second he saw a bigger mace he could swing. He’s always been like that. Big muscles, zero RAM. You really met him in that ’Old World’ of yours?"

"He’s a Platinum-rank pain in my ass," I said, trying to find a patch of ground that wasn’t actively trying to melt my soles. "He’s currently holding down a square in Silver-Port, probably charging people for the privilege of looking at the ocean. How did you two end up in different worlds? I thought siblings usually... you know, stayed in the same reality."

Jace started walking down the slope of the dune, her white armor clinking softly. "Long story. Short version? Our world hit a ’Singularity Event.’ Half the population got uploaded to a digital cloud, the other half got scattered across the multiverse. I woke up in a city where everything is neon and chrome. He woke up in a place where people still use birds to send mail. We haven’t seen each other in ten years. The only way we communicate is through these iron coins. They’re ’Relics of the First Draft.’ They vibrate when a family member is in the same sector of the Tower."

I followed her, my boots crunching on the glass shards. "Sector? You mean the Tower isn’t just one big building?"

"It’s a hub, Ren. Think of it like a massive server," Jace explained, not looking back. "Each floor is a different instance. Right now, we’re in a ’Bleed Zone.’ Floor 3 is special. It’s one of the few places where solo participants from different world-types can actually see each other before Level 10. But don’t get comfortable. We can’t party up. My system won’t let me share XP with you, and if I try to hand you a high-tech grenade, it’ll probably turn into a rock the moment you touch it."

"Narrative balance," I sighed. "I’m getting real tired of that phrase."

We reached the bottom of the dune. The "Glass Desert" wasn’t just flat; it was a graveyard of reflections. Everywhere I looked, I saw distorted versions of myself in the ground. In one shard, I was still the farmhand. In another, I was the Level 15 Guildmaster. In a third, I was back in my office, staring at a spreadsheet that said ’ERROR.’

A chime rang in my head.

[Mission Update: Surrender your shade.]

[Progress: 0/1]

"So, what does that even mean?" I asked, looking at my shadow. Despite the three suns being directly overhead, I had three distinct shadows stretching out behind me in different directions. They looked... darker than they should. Thicker.

"It means exactly what it says," Jace said, drawing a short, vibrating blade from her forearm. The edge glowed with a faint blue hum. "The suns here don’t just burn your skin. They cook your ego. Your ’shade’ is the part of you that’s still holding onto your old world. To pass this floor, you have to let it go. Literally."

As she spoke, her own shadow began to peel itself off the glass floor. It rose up like a sheet of black ink, taking on her shape but lacking any detail. It looked like a silhouette cut out of the universe.

"Stay back, Ren," Jace warned, her voice going serious. "This is a solo trial. If I help you with yours, the Tower will double the difficulty. Just watch and learn."

The shadow-Jace didn’t have a vibro-blade. It had claws of solid darkness. It moved with a jittery, frame-skipping motion, lunging at the real Jace with terrifying speed.

Jace was fast. Her armor hissed, vents on her boots propelling her sideways as she dodged a swipe that shattered a glass pillar behind her. She swung her blade, but the shadow just flowed around it like liquid.

"It’s not a physical fight!" I shouted, watching her struggle. "It’s a reflection! You’re trying to hit a hole!"

"I know that!" Jace yelled back, ducking under a kick. "But the hole hits back! Hard!"

I watched them dance for a few minutes. Jace was clearly more experienced in combat than I was, but she was fighting the Tower’s mechanics. She was treating it like a duel.

I looked down at my own shadows. Three of them.

The Farmer.

The Analyst.

The Guildmaster.

One shadow was holding a hoe. One was holding a coffee cup. One was holding my rusty knife.

"Surrender," I whispered.

I didn’t draw my knife. Instead, I sat down on the burning glass.

"Ren! What are you doing?!" Jace screamed, barely parrying a strike from her shadow.

"It’s a wish tower, Jace!" I called out. "It wants to know what you’re willing to give up to get what you want!"

I looked at the shadow of the Analyst. The guy in the tie. The guy who lived for the weekend.

"I don’t need you anymore," I said.

The shadow flickered. It tried to rise, to form into a combatant, but I kept my hands open. I didn’t resist. I thought about the bakery. I thought about the smell of Tybalt’s rosemary bread. I thought about the four-headed dog who was waiting for me.

"I choose the mess," I said.

The Analyst shadow dissolved. It didn’t fight. It just melted into the grey bone-dust of the floor and vanished.

[Condition Met: 33% Shade Surrendered.]

The heat from the suns lessened slightly. My breathing became easier. I felt... lighter.

I turned to the Farmer shadow. The version of me that spent four years in the dirt, waiting for a story to start.

"You were a good shield," I told the shadow. "You kept me hidden when I was weak. But I’m not hiding anymore."

That shadow didn’t even try to rise. It just faded away like a cloud passing in front of a sun.

[Condition Met: 66% Shade Surrendered.]

Now, only one remained. The Guildmaster. The version of me that carried the fragments. The guy who knew the "script."

This shadow rose. It stood tall, holding a shadow-version of the notched knife. It looked at me with eyes that were just empty white slits.

If you give me up, the shadow whispered—a cold, oily sound in my mind—you’ll be alone. You won’t know the ending. You won’t have the fragments to protect them. You’ll just be Ren. A Level 3 nobody with a rusty knife.

"I’m already just Ren," I said, standing up to face it. "The fragments were never mine. They belong to the world. And the ending? I’ll write that as I go."

I reached out and grabbed the shadow’s throat. It felt like sticking my hand into a bucket of ice water. The darkness tried to crawl up my arm, to freeze my heart, but I didn’t let go.

"I surrender," I said, looking into the white slits. "I surrender the ’lead character’ status. I’m just part of the team."

The shadow shattered. Not like glass, but like a mirror that had been struck by a hammer. The darkness exploded outward, turning into a shower of cool, refreshing rain that fell across the desert, sizzling as it hit the glass.

[Mission: Surrender your shade — Complete.]

[Tower Level 4 Reached.]

[Points +1000]

The three suns merged into one. The blinding red sky turned a soft, twilight blue.

I looked over at Jace. Her shadow was gone too. She was leaning on her knees, gasping for air, her blue vibro-blade deactivated.

"That... was... cheating," she panted, looking at me with a mix of awe and annoyance. "You just... talked them into leaving?"

"I’m a strategist, Jace," I said, wiping the rain from my face. "Why fight a war when you can just settle the debt?"

Jace stood up, brushing glass dust from her armor. "Remind me never to play poker with you. Gondar was right. You’re weird."

She checked her scanner. "Alright, the gate is open. I’ve gotta go. My world-instance is pulling me toward the ’Urban-Chrome’ sector. Floor 4 for me is a high-rise infiltration. What’s yours?"

I checked the blue screen.

[Next Mission: The Clockwork City.]

[Objective: Find the rhythm.]

"A city," I said. "Red said she was there. Floor 5."

"Then you’re catching up," Jace said. She reached into a pouch and tossed me a small, metallic disc. "Here. It’s a short-range comms-patch. It won’t work between floors, but if we ever end up in a Bleed Zone together again, it’ll let us talk without the fox-filters. Tell my brother I’m doing better than him."

"I will," I promised.

Jace stepped into a shimmering blue portal that appeared behind her. "See ya at the top, Ren. Don’t get flattened by a gear."

She vanished.

I was alone in the desert again, but it didn’t feel lonely. I sat down and opened the chat.

Ren: Just hit Level 4. Surrendered my shadows. I feel great, actually.

Red: ABOUT TIME. I’ve been waiting at the entrance of Floor 6 for like twenty minutes. This place is a dump.

Kaelen: I’m at Level 5. The mountains were aggressive.

Lysandra: I have reached Level 5 as well. The ’Inventory’ feature is... helpful. I finally have a place to put my shield besides my back.

Cian: Ren! Warning! If you’re heading to the Clockwork City, watch out for the ’Sync-Knights.’ They move in 4/4 time. If you break the rhythm, they trigger an area-of-effect blast.

Tybalt: I’M LEVEL 3! I did it! I gave the charcoal golem a salt-crusted pretzel and he cried! He actually cried! He said it reminded him of his hearth!

Red: Only Tybalt would use snacks to defeat a boss.

Ren: Nice work, Ty. Kaelen, Lysandra—since you’re Level 5, can you see the ’Shop’?

Kaelen: Yes. It’s expensive. A basic whetstone is 500 points.

Lysandra: There are ’Guild Contracts’ available in the shop. We can’t party up yet, but we can buy shared objectives. If we all complete one, we get a massive XP boost.

Ren: Buy it. Whatever the cheapest one is. We need to hit Level 10 fast.

Cian: I’ve already purchased ’The Weaver’s Thread.’ It requires us to find five ’Memory Cores’ across our separate instances. I found one in a pile of rusted gears.

Red: I found one in a clock-tower.

Ren: Okay, so we’re working together even if we’re apart. I’m heading into the City now. Ty, keep moving. We’ll meet you at Floor 10.

I closed the chat and walked toward the golden portal. My Level 4 stats felt much better than Level 3—my legs didn’t ache as much, and my vision was sharp.

As I stepped through, I thought about the "other worlds." The Lion-man who failed. Jace and her cyber-armor. The Tower wasn’t just testing us; it was filtering the multiverse.

The transition hit, and the desert vanished.

I landed on a cobblestone street. But the "stones" were actually interlocking brass gears that hummed with a low, vibrating frequency. The buildings were narrow, made of copper and glass, and they seemed to be shifting—expanding and contracting like a giant pair of lungs.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound was everywhere. A giant, city-wide heartbeat.

[Floor 4: The Clockwork City.]

[Mission: Find the rhythm.]

I looked down the street. A group of men in grey suits—not Covenant, but something more clinical—were marching in perfect step. They had brass plates over their faces and wind-up keys sticking out of their backs.

[Target: Sync-Knights (Level 6)]

They hadn’t seen me yet. They were moving to the beat.

I took a breath, trying to time my heart to the tick of the floor.

"Okay," I whispered. "One, two, three, four..."

I stepped onto the gears.

The fourth floor had begun. And if I missed a beat, I had a feeling the "rhythm" was going to be the death of me.

I checked my pocket. The iron coin was quiet now. Jace was gone. But I had her comms-patch.

"Just keep climbing," I said to the ticking air.

I started to march.