Chapter 2: Silent Blades, Soft Voices

Ren’s POV

Ren Takamine sat alone in his dim apartment, the only light coming from the blue glow of his dual monitors. One screen displayed the game interface; the other had an open notepad filled with code snippets from a personal project he hadn’t touched in weeks. The hum of his PC was the only sound, save for the occasional clink of the nearly empty can of beer in his hand.

He wasn’t sure why he still logged in to Eclipsia Online every night. Maybe out of habit. Maybe loneliness. Most players bored him. Too loud, too performative. But the moment HanaLune joined tonight’s raid, something felt different.

She was quiet. Composed. Her messages in the chat weren’t filled with emojis or spam. She said what she needed to say—efficient, direct, but not cold. Then she sang.

It was just a short melody during a buff rotation, but her voice—soft, pure, unpolished—cut through the static in his mind. He didn’t comment right away. He rarely did. But he couldn’t stop himself: “You sing in real life too? Or just here?”

When she answered, "Real life. Not that anyone listens," something stirred in him.

“I listened,” he typed, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling. His own words echoed louder in the silence than they should have.

They chatted while looting gear. It was simple. Casual. Yet it felt easier than talking to most people he knew in real life. HanaLune didn’t pry. Didn’t force small talk. She let things breathe.

He didn’t know her real name. Didn’t ask. That anonymity gave him space to just be.

When she said she had to log off for work, he felt a strange pang of disappointment. He almost typed something dumb—something he might regret. “Would be cool to play again,” or worse, “You made tonight better.”

Instead, he settled on: “Then I hope it does. Night, Hana.”

After she logged off, he sat in the dark for a while.

Most nights, he played to escape.

Tonight, for the first time, he played to connect.

And that terrified him more than anything.