The bedroom on the villa's top floor was quiet. Once shrouded in gloom, it no longer felt suffocating.
The game pod hummed softly during operation. It was like a loyal, silent companion.
Inside the pod, the nutrient solution circulation system pulsed rhythmically. It maintained the basic physiological needs of the young man within.
The lady gently pushed open the door. She saw her son lying in the game pod again. The pod door was closed, and the indicator lights glowed with steady blue light. She didn't disturb him.
She only watched quietly for a while. The worry in her eyes hadn't dispersed, but it was mixed with a strange comfort. At least now he had a destination, a world he could actively invest in. He was even willing to immerse himself in it for long periods.
Before, he sat listlessly all day with vacant eyes. He even showed self-destructive tendencies that frightened her. Now he regularly entered that very stimulating game world every day.
This was progress she hadn't dared hope for. Was the game content healthy? She didn't know. But as long as it could make her son come alive, even if only virtually, she was willing to set aside those concerns.
Inside the pod, See You Tomorrow's consciousness had already connected to the login space of Battlefield: Warhammer 40k. This was a cold yet real otherworld he had chosen for himself. It was constructed of data and rules.
He remained taciturn and rarely communicated in-game. But those eyes that were vacant in reality would flicker with a subtle, focused gleam when he worked. When gazing at tactical maps, predicting artillery trajectories, or contemplating how to complete those bizarre Nine Transformations, something changed in him.
Today, he had just completed a regular match. He controlled a psyker, using cunning psychic spells and precise battlefield support interference on the Tival map.
He indirectly caused the failure of a critical Imperial offensive. After exiting the match and returning to his personal space, he glanced at the mailbox icon out of habit.
There was an unread email. The sender was marked with the prominent label [Official].
He clicked it open.
---
[Sender: Battlefield: Warhammer 40k Tournament Committee (Official)]
[Subject: Sincere Invitation to Participate in the 'Alacaster Decisive Battle Cup' Exhibition Match]
[Dear 'See You Tomorrow' Player (Eternal Chosen of Tzeentch):]
[We are honored to have noted your outstanding performance and unique exploration in the game. Based on your pioneer status in the Faith System and excellent tactical acumen, we cordially invite you to participate in the upcoming Battlefield: Warhammer 40k 'Alacaster Decisive Battle Cup' large-scale exhibition match.]
[You will step onto an unprecedented new battlefield, Planet Alacaster. Here you will find ample space to display your talents. You'll unlock unreleased weapons and vehicles, and learn about new troop system types that will soon join the battle.]
[This is not only an arena of skill, but also a stage where the great existence you serve, the Architect of Fate, may cast more of its gaze. In the games of the Chaos Gods, the moment to demonstrate the power of cunning and change may have arrived.]
[Please consider carefully. If you confirm participation, please use the link attached in this email within 24 hours. We look forward to seeing your presence in this Apocalypse-level war tableau.]
---
An official invitation. The tone was formal, with a special honorific for the Chosen One. New maps, new weapons, new troop types, a bigger stage. And divine attention.
See You Tomorrow quietly finished reading the email. His heart remained calm.
Challenge the strong? Prove himself? Compete for glory? These motivations drove ordinary people to participate in competitions. But to him, they meant nothing.
At first, he played the game to fulfill a promise to his mother. Over time, it evolved into a habit. He developed a detached curiosity about the dark universe setting and the logic behind the Architect of Fate.
He wanted to know something specific. This so-called deity, this system that could precisely trigger missions and grant blessings, how exactly did it operate? Was it complex hidden algorithms? Or was there truly some existence beyond comprehension, watching?
Participating in this exhibition match would mean more exposure. It would mean possibly more intense confrontation. But it seemed to offer no direct help in exploring the essence of this question.
His finger moved downward. He prepared to click the [Decline] option at the end of the email. He preferred to continue in regular matches. He wanted to use his newly acquired psyker identity to quietly experiment and observe, to accumulate cunning points and explore the boundaries of the Ways of Change.
However, just as his fingertip was about to touch the virtual button,
The mailbox icon flickered again without warning!
Another new email arrived almost immediately after the official invitation. The sender field displayed no system identifier. Instead, it showed several words in constantly shifting forms. They seemed composed of flowing starlight and cryptic runes:
[Sender: Library of Change]
He hesitated for a moment. Then he opened this email from his nominal deity.
The email had no format and no signature. Only a few lines of text appeared, constantly twisting slightly and changing font and color. They seemed written directly on flowing galaxies and mist:
---
['He' knows all your hesitation.]
['He' perceives the thirst for knowledge beneath your indifference.]
['He' is Knowing itself.]
The text paused here, like a meaningful ellipsis.
[Go.]
[Participate in this game.]
[Not for mundane victory or false glory.]
[But to verify His knowing.]
[In this Great Game where the gazes of Chaos Gods intertwine, let the Ways of Change representing transformation and possibility take the lead.]
The last line suddenly deepened in color. It settled into a deep, light-absorbing dark purple:
[Go and do it.]
[He will give you what you desire.]
---
The email ended there. No confirmation option. No further explanation. It was as abrupt as its appearance.
See You Tomorrow stared at these lines for a long time without moving. On his face, always lacking expression, obvious and complex emotions appeared for the first time. Confusion.
Wariness. A touch of discomfort at being seen through. And a cold curiosity ignited in the depths.
"He" knows my hesitation? "He" knows what I truly want is knowledge, not glory? "He" wants me to participate in the competition to verify his knowing? Win the competition, let the Ways of Change gain advantage in the games of the Chaos Gods, and obtain what I desire?
Was this Library of Change some more direct manifestation of the Architect of Fate's will? Or was it some higher-order AI system simulating divine interaction? This email itself was a kind of change, a demonstration of possibility.
If he declined the official invitation, he could continue quiet exploration. But if he accepted the hint in this mysterious email and participated, if he won, he might truly touch upon the core secrets of this game system's deity settings.
Silence spread through the personal space. Only the low hum simulated in the background echoed in response. It seemed to come from the Warp.
Finally, See You Tomorrow closed the email from the Library of Change. He reopened the official invitation.
His gaze fell on the [Confirm Participation] link.
His fingertip, no longer hesitating, lightly clicked down.
[Participation confirmed and submitted.]
۞۞۞۞
~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones