Hero Hunter: The Glitch in the God System

Chapter 8

The city of Oakhaven was a graveyard of lights. Every torch was extinguished, and the streets were patrolled by armored inquisitors with glowing, violet visors.

Freecs adjusted his velvet collar, the silk itching against his neck. Beside him, Vivina looked dangerously out of place in a floor-length evening gown that clearly belonged to someone much smaller.

"Stop pulling at the neckline," she hissed, her voice barely audible. "You look like you’re trying to strangle yourself."

"I am," Freecs muttered, keeping his head down as they approached the North Gate checkpoint. "If this corset doesn't kill me, the guards definitely will. Who wears this stuff? It’s basically torture."

"It’s high-society fashion, you idiot. Just stop hunching. You’re a lord’s son tonight, remember?"

"A lord’s son who smells like a sewer and has an assassin’s dagger taped to his thigh? Perfect."

"Lord Valerius the Third. My cousin from the southern provinces," she added, catching his eye with a warning glare. "And don't you dare touch your belt. The guards are trained to spot nervous ticks."

"My only tick is the overwhelming desire to stab the guy in the helmet," Freecs retorted.

The Captain of the Guard blocked their path, his hand resting on the hilt of a runic blade. "State your business. Why are you out after the curfew bells?"

Vivina stepped forward, her posture regal and chillingly cold. "Do you have any idea who you’re delaying, Captain? My cousin has a very sensitive stomach. If we miss the banquet at the High Priest’s, he’ll make sure your boots are the only thing you own by sunrise."

Freecs deepened his voice, affecting a pretentious, bored lilt. "Truly. The delay is becoming... problematic. Quite frankly, I’m offended."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, peering through the dim light at their forged crests. "The High Priest is seeing no one tonight. The city is under total lockdown."

"Oh, I know," Vivina said, her tone dripping with fake honey. "That’s exactly why he invited us. A private consultation on... internal security matters."

"Internal security?" The Captain hesitated, looking at the seal of the Southern Arch-Bishop on her ring.

"Exactly," Freecs drawled, leaning against the cold stone wall. "Unless you want to be the one to tell the Arch-Bishop that you blocked his niece from delivering a 'fragile' report?"

The Captain paled, his hand falling away from his sword. "Pass through. But stay off the main boulevards. The Inquisition is sweeping the lower sectors."

"We’ll be sure to watch our step," Vivina replied.

They walked past the gate without looking back. Once they were out of earshot, Freecs let out a long, shuddering breath.

"I hate you," he whispered. "That was terrifying."

"You were the one who suggested the 'fragile report' bit. You’re learning."

"I’m learning that lying to authority figures is surprisingly addictive. Where to now?"

"The basement levels of the Association. That’s where they keep the experimental gear and the... 'special' prisoners."

They wove through the shadows of the alleyways, dodging the rhythmic, heavy footsteps of the Inquisition patrols. The city was a maze of paranoia.

"We need a distraction," Freecs said, checking the corridor ahead. "The entrance is guarded by two mages and an automated sentry."

"I can handle the mages," Vivina said, her eyes flashing gold. "You take the sentry. But don't break it completely—we might need the clearance codes."

"You want me to hack a sentient war-machine while you fight two battle-mages? You have a very strange definition of teamwork."

"It’s called trust, Freecs. Try it sometime."

"My trust usually involves traps, but fine. On my mark."

They sprang into action. Vivina moved like a blur, her hands weaving patterns in the air that sent waves of force slamming into the mages, pinning them against the marble pillars. Freecs sprinted toward the sentry, sliding on his knees as the machine’s cannons whirred to life.

"Nice to meet you, toaster," Freecs grunted, jamming his override tool into the machine's cooling vent. "Who’s your manufacturer?"

The machine groaned, its lights flickering from red to a confused yellow.

"Freecs! The mages are breaking my barrier!" Vivina shouted, her voice straining.

"Almost... done!" He twisted the tool. The machine let out a high-pitched whine and powered down. "Door is opening!"

They scrambled inside, the heavy steel vault doors groaning shut behind them. The air inside was freezing, smelling of ozone and old, rotting paper.

"This isn't the armory," Vivina said, pointing to a single, dimly lit cell at the end of the hall.

"No," Freecs agreed, his heart rate spiking. "It’s a dungeon."

They walked toward the cell, the floorboards crunching beneath their boots. Inside, a man sat curled in the corner, his robes tattered and stained with years of neglect. He looked up, his eyes milky with cataracts.

"You’re late," the man wheezed.

Freecs paused, his hand tightening on his dagger. "We weren't exactly expected."

"The System told me you were coming," the prisoner rasped, a hollow, rattling laugh shaking his frame. "The Glitch and the Saint. The two pieces of the game that refuse to be moved."

Vivina stepped into the light, her face a mask of shock. "How do you know that name?"

"I built it," the old man whispered. "I built the System to save this world from the dungeons, but they turned it into a leash. You aren't the first ones to try and break it."

"Then tell us how to destroy it," Freecs demanded, leaning close to the bars.

"You don't destroy a code by killing the user," the man muttered, reaching out with a withered hand. "You have to kill the source. And the source... isn't in this building."

"Where is it?" Vivina asked.

The old man’s smile turned into a jagged, blood-stained line. "It’s in your head, girl. It’s in his blood. And right now... it’s listening to every word we say."

The cell erupted in a blinding, crimson light. The System’s interface shattered across Freecs’s vision, text scrolling at a speed he couldn't comprehend.

[System Alert: Unauthorized entity located. Purge protocol initiated.]

"Get back!" Freecs shoved Vivina aside just as the walls of the cell began to melt into shadows.

The old man wasn't just a prisoner; he was a beacon, and he was currently drawing the entire Inquisition straight to their location.

"We’ve been played," Freecs snarled, drawing his blade as the shadows in the room began to form into a towering, obsidian shape.

"So," Vivina said, pulling her sword and standing back-to-back with him. "Same plan as always?"

"Same plan," Freecs replied, his teeth bared in a feral grin. "Survive, kill the architect, and burn the game to the ground."

The shadow monster lunged, and for the first time, Freecs didn't see a mission—he saw the end.