The transition was seamless, terrifyingly so.
One moment, Ray was sitting in the cold, humming silence of the silver monolith; the next, he was inhaling the heavy, humid air of a rainforest.
Ray opened his eyes. He stood on a jagged limestone ridge overlooking a vast, steaming jungle valley. Giant fern-trees spiraled toward a digital sky, their leaves dripping with condensation. Below, the terrain was a nightmare of broken stone ruins, mud-choked rivers, and dense undergrowth.
Ray looked behind him. His army stood waiting in perfect silence.
They were not the gleaming knights in plate armor that the nobility favored. Ray’s troops were clad in mottled grey leather armor that shifted color slightly to match the stone. They carried short-bows, climbing hooks, and dual daggers. They were light, fast, and fragile.
Ray didn't order them to march. He turned to his Squad Leaders.
"Scatter,"
Ray ordered quietly.
"Fade into the tree line and hold position. Do not engage. I want three scouts to fan out, North, East, and West. Eyes only. If you are spotted, do not fight. Run."
The soldiers nodded and melted into the dense foliage with practiced ease. Their light armor made no sound against the underbrush.
"I’ll take the South."
Ray murmured.
He wondered if she could use this archetype skill in this simulated world so he activated the Stoic Assassin’s ‘Flowing Shadow’ technique. To his surprise, he could use his archetype skill; the simulation didn't just copy the visual effect, it dampened his sound and lowered his presence within the simulated world.
Ray leaped from the ridge, grabbing a hanging vine and swinging silently into the canopy below.
He traveled for at least 1 hour, moving like a ghost through the upper branches. The jungle was loud with digital wildlife, but Ray tuned it out, hunting for the metallic clank of armor.
He found it.
In a clearing about two kilometers East of his spawn point, two armies were engaged.
Ray crouched on a thick branch, peering through the leaves.
To one side, a phalanx of heavy, iron-clad Shock Troopers marched under a banner of crimson and gold. He recognized one of the commanders of the troops, it was Gunther Draven, a Tier-2 Prefect from the College of Statecraft who sat atop a massive armored warhorse.
Opposite him, a regiment of Battle-Mages in blue robes formed a firing line. Commander Marie Isolde Tier-2 Iron Key from the Minor College of Codes and Detection (Statecraft) stood at their rear.
Ray narrowed his eyes. They were skirmishing.
Spells flew. Fireballs exploded against tower shields. Lightning arced through the air. It looked like a brutal engagement.
But something felt... off.
Ray watched as a fireball from Isolde’s mages soared over the heads of Draven’s troops, exploding harmlessly against a rock wall. Draven’s archers fired a volley, but the arrows fell short, landing in the mud ten feet in front of the mage line. It looked like they were conserving their strength, merely testing each other's defenses.
"Cautious, too cautious."
Ray whispered, noting their positions before slipping away.
He moved West, covering ground rapidly.
Fifteen minutes later, he found another pair.
Luke Herington, a Tier-3 Magistrate from the College of Statecraft was leading a Heavy Cavalry unit against a fortified pike formation commanded by another noble.
Ray watched them for a full minute. Herington ordered a charge, but his horses pulled up before impact, wheeling away as if feinting. The pike-men didn't pursue. They just reset their lines.
It was the same pattern. A lot of noise, a lot of movement, but zero casualties.
Ray’s frown deepened. He turned back, racing through the canopy to return to his ridge.
When he arrived, his three scouts were already waiting.
"Report."
Ray commanded.
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"Contact to the North, Commander, two armies. Skirmishing, but holding position."
The first scout whispered.
"Contact to the West, two armies. Engaging at range, but no aggressive maneuvers."
The second scout added.
"Same to the East."
The third scout confirmed.
Ray closed his eyes.
He had seen two pairs. His scouts had seen two pairs.
That was eight armies. Eight distinct forces, all surrounding his spawn point, all engaging in low-risk, high-noise combat.
Ray decided to review what he saw and the information he got from the scouts.
With the help of Eccentric Scholar’s pulled up the memory of what he had just seen with perfect, eidetic clarity. He replayed the scene of Isolde’s fireball. He replayed the scene of Herington’s cavalry charge, this was also projected internally for this internal council to see.
Veteran: “Look at the Shield Wall, They aren't bracing. If they were expecting a real impact, they’d be digging their heels in. They’re standing flat-footed.”
The Grizzled Veteran growled in his mind.
Detective: “And the trajectory, that fireball wasn't a miss. It was a warning shot. They aren't trying to hit each other, kid. They’re putting on a show.”