Soon after Oliver returned to his apartment, he wasted no time settling into comfort. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the air of normalcy that filled the room felt almost foreign—temporary, like a thin veil draped over something far more dangerous.

He moved with quiet intent, shrugging off the remnants of the outside world as he began his preparations. Every action was precise, calculated. There was no room for hesitation anymore.

He was heading straight into the Realm.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Oliver leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as his fingers intertwined. His gaze lowered, not quite focused on anything in the physical world, but instead sinking deep into thought.

’What is the fastest way to grow stronger...?’

The question echoed in his mind, not as uncertainty, but as strategy.

The coming Disaster was no longer something distant or theoretical. It was real. It was approaching.

And Oliver intended to meet it head-on.

He had already reached a level of strength that placed him above most Rankers. Handling one Disaster alone was something many would consider impossible—yet he could do it. Two? That would push even the strongest to their limits.

But Oliver?

He was already brushing against that threshold.

Not comfortably. Not effortlessly.

But close enough to matter.

At least, compared to the majority of them.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back, allowing his body to fall flat against the bed. The soft cushioning did little to ease the tension that lingered beneath his skin.

Above him, faint and translucent, a notification hovered within his vision.

The Life Worm Relic.

It had finally been fully refined.

The notification had come in earlier, almost casually—as though it wasn’t something that could drastically alter his path moving forward.

Oliver stared at it now, eyes narrowing slightly.

’So... it’s done.’

A subtle shift in his expression followed.

Now, he could proceed with his plan.

There was no more waiting.

No more delays.

"I want to enter Zonin Safe Zone," he commanded calmly, his voice steady, carrying a quiet authority that the system had long since grown accustomed to.

For a brief second, there was silence.

Then—

[Request accepted]

[Soul integrating]

---

A strange sensation overtook him.

It wasn’t pain.

It wasn’t comfort either.

It was... displacement.

A fleeting moment passed, and just like that—Oliver’s consciousness was no longer anchored to his apartment.

The bed beneath him vanished.

The warmth of his room disappeared.

And in its place—

Cold.

Sharp, biting cold.

Oliver’s eyes opened.

He stood in the middle of a foreign street, the ground beneath his boots coated in layers of hardened ice that shimmered faintly under the pale light of an overcast sky. Snow drifted steadily from above, each flake falling with a quiet elegance that contrasted the harsh chill it carried.

The entire vicinity was blanketed in white.

A world swallowed by winter.

Oliver inhaled deeply, his breath immediately visible as a faint mist escaping into the frigid air. The cold stung his lungs slightly, unfamiliar and intrusive.

His eyes scanned the surroundings slowly.

This... was Zonin.

Far different from Alkarya.

Alkarya had been vibrant—alive with warmth, sunlight stretching endlessly across its skies like a golden ocean.

But here?

Here was silence.

Stillness.

A land frozen in time.

Even the atmosphere felt heavier.

Colder in more ways than one.

Oliver exhaled again, this time slower.

The chill bit through his cloak, slipping past the fabric like needles grazing his skin.

He grimaced faintly, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to generate warmth.

"It’s... something," he muttered under his breath.

Though discomfort lingered, there was a faint spark of intrigue behind his eyes.

This was his first time—across both his lives—stepping into a place like this.

Zonin.

A name he had heard before.

But experiencing it?

That was entirely different.

Around him, people moved.

Players.

Dozens of them.

They walked through the snow-covered streets with surprising ease, their bodies seemingly adapted to the cold as though it was nothing more than a passing breeze.

Some chatted casually.

Others moved with purpose.

But none of them paid him any real attention.

To them, he was just another Player.

Another face in the crowd.

Unremarkable.

Unnoticed.

And for now—

That was exactly how Oliver wanted it.

Still, there was always a risk.

Recognition.

Even one person noticing him as a Ranker could complicate things.

So—

Oliver raised his hand.

The motion itself was subtle, but intentional.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

A few nearby Players slowed their steps, glancing toward him with mild curiosity. Others followed their gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as they watched him stand there in the cold, hand outstretched for no apparent reason.

’Is he... alright?’

’What’s he doing?’

The unspoken questions lingered in the air.

And then—

FWOOOSH!

A sudden burst of motion.

At the snap of his fingers, a black hat appeared instantly within his grasp, materializing as though it had been pulled straight from thin air.

The reaction was immediate.

A collective pause.

Eyes widened.

"What—?"

"Did he just... create that?"

"Is that a skill?"

More Players stopped, drawn in by the unexpected display.

Oliver leaned back slightly, as though he had momentarily lost his footing, adding a layer of clumsy theatrics to the act. He swung the hat lightly in his hand, letting it spin once before catching it again.

Then—

He placed it on his head.

"Taddaaa!" he announced playfully.

The moment the hat settled—

Everything changed.

His cloak ignited.

A sizzling green flame erupted across its surface, devouring the fabric in an instant without leaving behind even ash. The fire didn’t burn like normal flames—it twisted, unnatural, almost alive.

And as it vanished—

So did the cloak.

In its place, a completely different attire formed seamlessly over his body.

Pitch-black clothing, sleek and fitted.

A white hoodie layered beneath, its contrast sharp against the darkness.

White gloves covered his hands.

And his face—

From his eyes up to his forehead, it was wrapped in a white rag cloth, tied tightly like a blindfold, yet positioned just enough to leave him aware of his surroundings.

His hair had shifted too.

Now white.

Pale as snow.

A reflection—

But distorted.

Changed.

Someone else.

The crowd erupted.

"That’s insane!"

"Was that magic?!" 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"No way—that has to be magic!"

Applause broke out almost instantly, excitement rippling through the gathering Players. What began as curiosity had quickly transformed into fascination.

Oliver—no—

Michelangelo Crustfold.

He stood at the center of it all.

His posture straightened as he slowly raised both hands into the air, crossing them dramatically before bringing them down in one swift motion.

And then—

Golden leaves.

A flurry of them burst into existence above, cascading downward in a mesmerizing display, spinning and dancing through the cold air as though carried by an unseen force.

Gasps echoed.

This time, there was no doubt.

This wasn’t just a trick.

It felt like magic.

And magic—

Was rare.

Extremely rare.

Especially among Awakeners.

To witness it so casually?

Unheard of.

Michelangelo tilted his head slightly, a grin curling beneath the unseen portions of his face.

"I am Michelangelo Crustfold," he declared smoothly, his voice carrying just enough flair to captivate.

"The world’s greatest mystery."

He paused, letting the moment breathe.

Then gave a slight bow.

"Watch me... and be amazed."

The crowd leaned in.

Drawn.

Hooked.

But beneath the performance—

Beneath the theatrics—

Oliver’s mind remained cold.

Focused.

This identity...

It wasn’t for show.

It was a mask.

A tool.

A necessity.

As Michelangelo Crustfold, he would move unseen—not by hiding, but by becoming something else entirely.

Something people would look at—

But never truly see.

And through that...

He would find his answers.

About the snitching shadow.

The mutated girl.

And the coming Glitch.

Because in a world where truth lurked beneath layers of deception—

Sometimes the best way to uncover it...

Was to become a lie yourself.

The Faceless Shadow had been born.