How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Just like how we were nearing the end of the game, so was her life.

The snow continued to fall around me, blanketing the street in a silence that felt almost suffocating.

It was colder than most Januaries I could remember, the chill seeping into my bones no matter how tightly I pulled my coat around me.

Three days.

January 24th.

That was the day it would happen.

The day my mother would finally lose her battle with the illness that had been eating away at her for years.

It was ironic, really—how much I had hated yet cherished these last few months together.

They were some of the most painful, awkward, and frustrating moments of my life, but also the closest we'd been in years. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"She should be done playing by now," I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the crunch of snow beneath my boots.

It was 1:30 in the afternoon.

Mother had been in the final stages of the game—the epilogue chapters, as they were called.

For a normal player, it usually took about an hour and a half to defeat the world-ending bosses and wrap things up.

Knowing her, and how much her gameplay had improved over the past few weeks, she should've been done by now.

A happy ending was in sight for her, just as I had envisioned.

Just the way I wanted.

Just the way I guided her.

Just the way it was meant to be.

I'd promised to help her see it through. I'd been hyping up the ending since we started, building it up as this grand, emotional payoff that would make all her effort worthwhile.

So why the hell was I walking down this freezing street alone right now?

I stopped for a moment, glancing into the window of a nearby store. The reflection staring back at me caught me off guard.

My face—pale, tired, and hollow—looked as lifeless as the gray sky above.

"Fuck,"

A part of me wanted to punch the glass.

To shatter the image of the asshole staring back at me.

…..

Time slipped by, one heavy second at a time, as the days bled into each other. And now, it was this day.

The day my mother was supposed to lose her life.

I didn't know the exact moment it would happen, but it didn't matter.

"She should be dead now, right?" I muttered to myself, the words slipping out with a bitter edge.

I let out a sigh, scoffing under my breath as I tilted my head back to gaze at the blanketed sky.

The clouds were thick and unrelenting, casting everything below in shades of grey. It felt fitting.

Sitting alone on a quiet park bench near my apartment, I stared upward, letting my thoughts churn.

The choices.

The damned choices.

When this day had come in the past, I'd been thrilled—ecstatic, even.

The news of her death had felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders.

Back then, I couldn't wait to move on, to erase the fragment of her existence from my life.

But now?

Now, doubts clung to me like shadows, whispering at the edges of my mind, clawing at my resolve.

"This really is a trial," I muttered.

The in-game descriptions had promised as much: 'The hardest trials are the ones that test your very core.' I had brushed it off as dramatic game text, but now, living it? It felt like a cruel joke.

Was that why Lucas's trial tested his courage and physical capabilities? To see if he could push past his limits and overcome fear?

If so, then why was mine like this?

Why was I being forced to confront the fractured pieces of a relationship I thought I had buried?

She's already supposed to be gone.

A forgotten fragment of my life.

So why the hell am I being tested like this?

"Haah…"

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed again, closing my eyes.

Since I didn't know exactly when it would happen, maybe I could just wait it out. Let the day slip by like last time.

Yes, that was it. I could just let it end. No involvement, no intervention.

My body relaxed against the bench, and I prepared to let myself drift off to sleep, letting the dreary day pass me by.

But then—

[So, you're making the same choice as last time?]

The voice came like a bolt of lightning, sharp and electrifying, cutting through my thoughts and resonating deep within me.

It was my voice.

The other me.

"Haha… It's been a while," I said, forcing a laugh, my grip tightening on the controller. "You finally decide to speak now?"

I hadn't expected to hear from this guy again—not after the cryptic things he'd said last time.

Bursting out of the trial, finding understanding—none of it had made sense.

If anything, the so-called "trial" had left me with more questions than answers.

[Han… no, Riley Hell, will you make the same mistake as last time?]

Mistake?

I let out a dry chuckle, though it felt hollow.

The words felt almost laughable, hearing them spoken in a voice that was eerily similar to my own.

This trial—it was just a construct, a distortion of my consciousness and memory. A test, twisting the things I'd forgotten, dredging up the past to see how I'd react.

"You're me, aren't you? Then you should know better. I've never regretted anything. Not once. I have never felt bad about what happened." My voice dropped, steady and resolute. "If anything, I'm—"

[You're lost.]

"What?"

[You are deciding way too early. Go and see her while there is still time. See the memories you've yet to see. See through the mistakes we've made. See past the trial.]

The voice paused, as if letting the weight of its words settle.

[Only then, make your decision. Your choice.]

...

"You're here…"

The voice was faint, yet steady, carrying a weight that seemed to press against the very air in the room.

Standing upright with the aid of the bed's mechanical incliner, Helena—my mother—turned her head in my direction.

Her once-vivid eyes, brimming with life even amidst their lack of light, were now completely hollow.

They were dull, lifeless orbs surrounded by an intricate web of dark veins that crawled outward, stark against her pale, ashen skin.

The toll of her sickness was laid bare for anyone to see, leaving no room for illusions.

"You're still alive…"

The words slipped from my mouth before I could even think, a mixture of disbelief and something I couldn't quite place.

My body froze, paralyzed by the sight before me as I tried to process it all.

This wasn't the mother I remembered—the formidable presence who once commanded respect and fear alike.

What sat before me now was something else entirely, an empty shell. No, worse. An empty husk being kept animated by sheer force of will.

That was my first thought. Something that shouldn't be alive or breathing, yet was sitting right in front of me, speaking as if nothing had changed.

The faint crackle of red energy danced around her like fireflies in the darkness.

Her psychic powers—the very force that had once made her unstoppable—were now a desperate lifeline.

It was clear they were pushing beyond their limits, keeping her alive, but only just.

"Fufu~" She chuckled softly, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "If I were to croak that easily, I wouldn't have been part of the Codex, kid. The role of General wouldn't have been blessed in my name for as long as I held it."

"Is that so…"

In front of her, the screen glowed brightly, casting its soft light across the room.

The familiar background music of Hero's Legacy played steadily, a nostalgic melody that tugged at my heart.

It was the kind of music that brought you back—memories of late-night gaming sessions, quiet escapes, and fleeting happiness all wrapped into one.

The controller in her hands lit up faintly, its subtle vibrations almost like a heartbeat, waiting for its player's command.

But the screen wasn't showing gameplay; instead, a large PAUSE button dominated the center.

In the background, the looming figure of the epilogue boss filled the screen—Erebil, the Evil God of Darkness.

The world-ender.

The root of the abyss itself.

One of the final challenge in Hero's Legacy.

I blinked in surprise.

Hadn't she finished this game a few days ago?

Don't tell me…

"What are you standing there for?"

Her words snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned toward her and caught the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips—a triumphant, almost playful expression, as if she'd just won a private bet with herself.

Before I could respond, a gentle force tugged at me.

Her telekinesis, subtle but firm, pulled me closer until I was seated beside her on the bed.

Her warmth—though faint, a reminder of her declining health—radiated against me.

She didn't let me linger in my thoughts for long. Taking my hand, she pressed the controller firmly into it. Her grip, though weak, was decisive.

"You play," she said, her tone light yet carrying an undertone of insistence. "I'll make the decisions. Now…" She looked at the screen, her smirk softening into something almost wistful. "Let's finish this game together, shall we?"

"....."

.....

[Interfering wasn't part of the plan, Fourth...]

[Kuku... you say that, but you've interfered more than once now, Third...]

[Those were inevitable situations...]

[You don't want him to take the same route as us, do you?]

[Clouded by judgment and hatred, he'd end up the same way as First and Second the same as us. This time, things must be different.]

[There are rules we have decided...]

[You know as well as I do... This path isn't just his struggle—it's a chance for us to rewrite what came before. To break free from the cycle. Besides, his reward will be guaranteed after breaking his tutorial in the end. A little advice here and there won't tip the balance too much.]

[The laws of causality won't be so lenient next time.]

[I know...]