Eli learned three important things in the first ten minutes after becoming a Hero.
One: the bow did not disappear when he wanted it to.
Two: the system did not answer rhetorical questions.
And three: walking through endless grass while armed made him deeply paranoid.
"Okay," Eli muttered, trudging forward as the wind tugged at his hoodie. "So we establish an anchor. Easy. Simple. Probably involves, I don't know, sticking something into the ground?"
The system panel flickered into view, as if mildly offended.
RESPAWN ANCHOR — UNPLACED
Recommended Conditions:
– Secure location
– Low threat density
– Defensible
– Stable terrain
Eli squinted. "That's not instructions. That's vibes."
No response.
He sighed and kept walking.
The plains stretched endlessly, broken only by shallow hills and occasional rock clusters. No trees. No buildings. No landmarks beyond "that patch of grass looks slightly angrier than the others."
Every rustle made him tighten his grip on the bow.
"So," he said aloud, mostly to convince himself he wasn't alone. "If I die before placing the anchor, what happens?"
The panel appeared instantly this time.
WARNING:
Hero death without anchor results in permanent termination.
Eli stopped walking.
"…You could've led with that."
The wind whistled. Somewhere, something growled.
Eli picked a direction and ran.
Miles was having a much calmer experience.
Which was impressive, considering he was standing knee-deep in water while holding a glowing spear that occasionally redirected lightning like it was a mild inconvenience.
"Okay," Miles said slowly, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. "You're… a spear."
The spear hovered obediently.
"And you're glowing," he continued. "Which is generally a sign of importance or danger."
The spear's cyan gemstones pulsed softly.
"I'm going to assume you won't electrocute me on purpose."
Lightning flashed. The spear absorbed it again, the storm easing a fraction more.
Miles blinked.
"…You're actually helping."
A system panel slid into view, rippling slightly with water droplets passing through it.
WEAPON BINDING — IN PROGRESS
Classification: Unknown
Status: Provisional
Anchor: Unplaced
Miles frowned. "Unknown?"
The system did not elaborate.
He looked out over the lake. The rain was still heavy, but the waves had calmed near him, forming a strange circle of relative peace.
"If I were an anchor," Miles mused, "where would I want to be?"
The spear drifted closer to the shoreline, tugging subtly at his awareness.
"…You want land," he said. "Fair. I don't love drowning either."
He waded toward the shore, boots squelching in the mud. The spear followed faithfully, rain bending around it like it was allergic to getting wet.
Miles paused.
"Wait," he said suspiciously. "You're literally a water weapon. Why are you avoiding water?"
The spear did not answer.
Miles sighed. "You're going to be one of those mysterious ones, aren't you."
Marcus was sweating.
Not because of fear—though there was plenty of that—but because the volcanic region was aggressively trying to cook him alive.
"Okay," Marcus muttered, hopping from one cooler stone to another. "Think cool thoughts. Snow. Ice cream. Air conditioning."
The fire spear floated at his side, its glow dimmed, almost restrained.
RESPAWN ANCHOR — UNPLACED
"I know," Marcus snapped. "I'm working on it."
The system panel flickered.
System Tip:
Anchors placed near volatile terrain have higher failure rates.
Marcus laughed once, sharp and humorless. "Oh, really? You don't say."
He scanned the landscape. Lava flows everywhere. Cracked rock. Heat shimmered so thick it distorted distance.
"Define 'non-volatile,'" he demanded.
No answer.
Marcus clenched his jaw and moved carefully, the spear subtly adjusting the temperature around him, keeping him just below the threshold of spontaneous combustion.
"…You're helping," he said quietly.
The spear pulsed.
Marcus didn't know why, but that made the pit in his stomach worse.
Lena's underground environment was quieter.
Too quiet.
The cavern stretched wide and tall, supported by natural stone pillars. Bioluminescent moss clung to the walls, casting dim blue light across jagged rock.
The Diamond Shadow Sword hovered in front of her, perfectly still.
Lena crossed her arms. "I'm not touching you."
The sword rotated slightly.
"No," she said firmly. "Last time I held something sharp, I stabbed myself with a pencil."
The system panel appeared.
WEAPON BINDING — REQUIRED
Refusal increases mortality risk.
"Everything increases mortality risk!" Lena snapped. "That's not helpful!"
The sword dipped, shadows thickening around it.
"…Is that a threat?" she asked.
The sword remained silent.
Lena groaned, pinched the bridge of her nose, and reached out.
The moment her fingers wrapped around the hilt, the shadows snapped into place, coiling around her arm like a living thing.
She screamed.
Then stopped.
Because it didn't hurt.
It was… warm. Comforting. Like pulling a blanket around herself in the dark.
Lena stared at the blade.
"…Oh no," she whispered. "I'm bonding."
Back on the plains, Eli finally slowed, lungs burning.
He ducked behind a rocky outcrop and collapsed, bow clutched to his chest.
"Okay," he gasped. "Secure. Defensible. Probably."
The rocks formed a shallow alcove. Not perfect, but it blocked the wind and limited approach angles.
Eli swallowed.
"Anchor," he said hesitantly. "How do I…?"
The bow vibrated softly.
The ground in front of him shimmered.
Something began to rise.
A metallic spike, etched with faint geometric patterns, pushed its way out of the earth like it had always been there and was only now remembering itself.
Eli stared.
"…That's it?"
RESPAWN ANCHOR — MATERIALIZING
Warning: Placement is permanent.
Eli hesitated.
Permanent.
No moving it. No redo.
He looked around again, heart hammering.
"…Well," he muttered. "If this is where I die forever, at least it's scenic."
The anchor locked into place with a low, resonant hum.
ANCHOR PLACED
Respawn Enabled
Eli sagged back against the rock, relief flooding through him.
"Oh thank God."
Something roared in the distance.
Eli froze.
"…You're kidding."
Miles found a cliff overlooking the lake—a natural overhang with solid stone and clear sightlines.
"This feels right," he said softly.
The spear hovered in front of him, gemstones glowing brighter.
The ground shimmered.
A crystalline anchor rose smoothly from the stone, water droplets forming along its surface.
Miles watched it solidify, feeling something click inside him.
ANCHOR PLACED
Respawn Enabled
He exhaled slowly.
"…Okay," he said. "We can work with this."
The storm above began to break, clouds thinning.
Miles glanced back at the spear.
"So," he said. "We're partners now?"
The spear pulsed once.
Miles smiled faintly.
Marcus placed his anchor near a narrow ridge where lava flows diverted naturally, the fire spear carefully regulating the heat.
The anchor emerged scorched but intact.
ANCHOR PLACED
Marcus stared at it.
"…If this explodes, I'm blaming you," he told the system.
The system did not care.
Lena's anchor formed seamlessly into the cavern floor, shadows anchoring it deeper than stone.
She stared at it for a long moment.
"…I hate this," she said.
The sword rested against her shoulder, shadows calm.
She sighed. "But I guess I'm alive."
Across the world, anchors locked into place.
Heroes breathed easier.
And none of them noticed the faint, imperceptible fluctuation in the system's background processes.
Something new had entered the equation.
Not yet.
But soon.