Edward was still lying on the sofa, the VR set still strapped to his head. His breathing was slow, his chest rising and falling—and between those breaths came the soft, trembling sounds of sobs he was trying to hold back. But the tears fell anyway.
Of course he was sad.
The game that had accompanied him for fifteen years, that had given him a thousand memories—bitter and sweet—had ended just like that. Valdora… the world where he had travelled, fallen, risen again, and kept pushing forward.
And Fay.
His ever-faithful companion.
The only "voice" that had never left him.
Now all of it was gone.
Dropped away like a dream he was forced to wake from.
The relics he had spent years collecting—ninety-eight of them not even used once. Ten years of effort felt… empty. Abandoned. Not even enjoyed.
Whether it was day or night now, Edward didn't know and didn't care. He simply lay there motionless, letting the hollow ache fill his chest.
Knock. Knock.
Someone rapped on the door.
Edward said nothing. He didn't respond.
The hinges creaked softly—the door opening as someone stepped inside. Slow, careful footsteps… as if the person didn't want to disturb him.
The visitor stared at Edward for a long moment. They saw the VR set still on his head, saw his unmoving body, saw the silence swallowing the living room.
But they didn't say a word.
They only placed a paper bag on the floor, near the door.
Then they stepped back, closing the door as quietly as they came.
Edward didn't move, not even a little.
His eyes were still wet.
In that silence, he felt a loss that hurt far more deeply than any defeat he had ever suffered in Valdora.
**
Sunlight began to seep through the gaps of the small apartment's windows, casting soft rays across the dim living room. Fine dust drifted lazily in the morning light, as if trying to wake the room's only occupant.
Edward was still lying on the sofa, the VR set covering half his face. He didn't move at all… until a sudden, thunderous roar shook the entire room.
Wuuuuushhh!
Like a fighter jet tearing through the sky right above the building.
Edward jolted, breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he pushed the VR set upward, opening his eyes just a sliver—small, heavy, swollen.
He exhaled weakly before removing the VR set completely. Now he simply stared at the ceiling… empty. Aimless. Silent.
Several seconds passed before he forced his body upright.
With the help of the morning light brightening the room, Edward finally took in the state of his living space. It was a mess—scattered drink cans, empty bottles, unthrown food containers, and tangled computer cables coiled like the roots of an old tree.
Then his eyes drifted to the monitor on the desk.
Edward stood, slowly, his thin body swaying slightly as if unsure of its own balance. He walked to the computer desk, dragged the chair back with a scraping sound, and sat down.
He moved the mouse.
Instantly, the screen flickered to life.
The familiar Valdora World background appeared.
But above it, a single line struck him straight through the heart:
"Valdora World — Permanently Shut Down."
Edward tightened his jaw. He tried opening the player forums. Tried reloading the page. Tried every bypass he knew.
None of it worked.
Everything was truly over.
Valdora had vanished from the digital world for good.
And Edward could only stare at the screen that no longer held any meaning in his life.
"What do I even care anymore," Edward muttered as he stood up. The first thing he did was push aside the curtains covering the window. He threw the window wide open, letting sunlight flood the apartment and chase away the gloom that clung to the room.
He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a black trash bag, and began picking up every piece of garbage scattered around him. Empty cans, drink bottles, frozen food containers—everything was swept ruthlessly into the bag.
After that, Edward unplugged every cable connected to the computer and the VR set; small clicks echoed each time a connection came loose. He placed all the equipment into a box, as if sealing away an entire chapter of his life.
He spent hours cleaning the apartment. When he finally looked at the clock on the wall, the hands pointed to 3:45 PM. He glanced around—the living room looked far more alive now.
"At least now it looks like a place where a human actually lives," he murmured with a small smile. "Even if the owner still looks like a drug addict."
Edward let out a small laugh at himself before heading to the bathroom to wash up.
He trimmed his hair down to shoulder length. The uneven stubble and messy beard he had grown were shaved clean—not that they had ever grown very thick, since he usually kept them tidy. After that, he washed his thin body thoroughly until his skin looked fresh again.
A few minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. He walked into his room, pulled on a pair of jeans… and immediately laughed when they slipped right down. The waistband no longer matched his current frame. Only after tightening a belt did they finally become "wearable."
Edward stood before the mirror. He turned left, then right, examining his sunken figure.
"Can I even enter that tower looking like this?" he muttered, lips twisting as he continued evaluating himself.
He tried to liven the mood by acting dramatically in an exaggerated voice:
"Hey dude. If you're going in there to look for drugs—forget it. But if you're looking to die… that's the perfect place."
He exaggerated further, adding more flair:
"Hey, look! There goes a walking skeleton. Dude, careful with the wind. Bla… bla… bla…"
Edward stopped his little performance and groaned.
"Argh… whatever people want to say. I'm only going there to find my sister!"
He threw on a T-shirt and stepped out of the room. His first destination: his younger sister's room.
Edward pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. The room looked exactly the same as it had nine years ago—like time had stopped the day his sister entered the Tower.
Her bed, her belongings — everything was untouched.
Edward's eyes fell on the photo frame on the table — a picture of him and his sister during their vacation in Miami. That was the happiest day of their lives.
Their mother and father had died in a plane crash while flying home from Athens, Georgia. Edward was 14 at the time, and his sister was 9. After the tragedy, they were cared for by their aunt who had never married — until she passed away from cancer when Edward was 19. From then on, he became his sister's full-time guardian.
With the remaining insurance money from their late parents, plus a small inheritance from their aunt, they were able to continue living without major hardship.
And that happiness ended on the day the world changed — the day the tower from the sky suddenly crashed down onto New York. A day that made people scream and cry at the same time.
After that, Edward's life never returned to normal. He sank deeper and deeper. Drowned in games. Drowned in a virtual world far easier to understand than the real one.
He became addicted, and day by day he drifted further away, no longer caring about what happened outside. His life became only one thing: the world of Valdora.
Every week, official government letters arrive at his address. Draft letters. Reminder letters. Warning letters. All with one purpose: to force at least one member of every American family to enter the tower.
The country needed "representatives."
The citizens had no choice.
But what Edward could never forgive… was himself. He couldn't remember why his sister suddenly decided to enter the tower. That memory was blurry, as if he were refusing to remember it.
Only one thing remained clear:
His advice to his sister… a long piece of advice, spoken with a half-hearted, dismissive attitude.
And the bitter truth was, deep down, he had actually hoped she would be willing to take his place.
Edward exhaled shakily. He raked a hand through his hair. His breath trembled. Tears rolled down without him noticing.
He wanted only one thing: for his sister to still be alive.
Suddenly — BOOOOM!
A loud explosion thundered, close enough that the apartment floor trembled.
Edward jolted. Without thinking, he rushed out of the room and headed straight for the front door. He yanked it open, stepping outside to see—
**
Edward, wearing a look of panic, stepped out into the corridor, his eyes darting left and right. But as usual, there was nothing. Only a silent building… yet the continuous booming echoing through the air made his hairs stand on end.
The safety sirens wailed.
It had been ten years since New York was nearly destroyed, and for the first time in a decade, an attack had happened this close to his apartment.
He quickened his pace toward the elevator — pressing the button repeatedly — but its light was dead. The system was already down.
"Seriously?" he grumbled, glancing toward the emergency stairwell door.
He yanked the door open. Edward stepped inside, and instead of going down, he went up. Faster than usual. His apartment was only on the 12th floor, and he climbed the stairs nonstop — without tiring, without gasping for breath. Without realizing it, his body moved like an athlete's.
In mere moments, he reached the rooftop access door.
His hands trembled slightly, but he still pushed the door open.
BOOOOMMMM!!!
The next explosion thundered so loudly the door vibrated. Edward held his breath. He stepped outside… and the moment his foot touched the rooftop floor, the world seemed to freeze.
His eyes widened.
Only a few kilometers away—
a skyscraper-sized monster was gripping a building, tearing concrete apart as if it were paper.
Dust clouds swirled, glass fell like rain, and the creature's piercing shriek split the sky.
Edward was frozen in place. Every time a fighter jet roared past, he reflexively ducked, the wind from the engines whipping through his hair. Rows of missiles were launched, exploding across the monster's body like fireworks — but the creature did not budge at all.
On the ground below, tanks fired relentlessly. The thunder of their cannons echoed like war drums.
But the result was the same — nothing.
The monster's skin was like armor no human weapon could pierce.
And more terrifying still — the creature's path…
was leading directly toward Edward's apartment.
The blast winds from the explosions made him stagger, but that wasn't what shook his heart.
He stood tall, staring at the monster with a bitter smile.
There was no point going down now.
It was already too late.
Edward ran a hand through his hair, his face a mixture of regret, acceptance, and surrender.
"Forgive me… little sister," his voice trembled.
"Looks like I won't make it in time to find you… But I really hope you're still alive."
Suddenly—
"Master?"