"Anomaly-flagged realms are not to be treated as mere curiosities."
Mr. Huxley's words rang through Ethan's ears as he stood in front of a towering glass door labeled:
[Division A: Applied Realm Anomaly Research]
He shifted uncomfortably in his school-issued uniform.
His badge, temporary and slightly crumpled, dangled from his neck:
[Ethan Thorne – Provisional Candidate – Grey Class]
"Provisional," like on trial.
Which, honestly, I guess I am.
The sliding doors hissed open smoothly.
Ethan stepped into a sterile white hallway lined with digital projectors, each displaying footage of realms flagged for "irregular behavior."
Floating cities, singing mountains, and even a realm made entirely of floating jellyfish.
And then, there was his.
A grainy, glitchy shot of the Polluted Cradle, frozen at the exact moment the Mirewarden had appeared mid-duel.
Oh great.
Can we get a close-up of the moment I almost peed myself too?
He tried not to look at it as a voice called from ahead.
"Ethan Thorne?"
He turned.
A tall woman with sleek black hair, wearing a sharp emerald coat approached him briskly. Her boots echoed confidently as she approached.
"I'm Dr. Mira Vale. You'll be working with me for the duration of your anomaly observation trial."
She didn't bother with a handshake—just a quick nod.
Ethan blinked. "Uh—nice to meet you?"
"Likewise. Walk with me."
She turned and started leading him deeper into the facility, her steps crisp and sure.
"You are currently the only first-year flagged with a Realm Sentience Alert. Congrats." she said casually.
"That sounds… weirdly ominous."
"It is," she said, without missing a step. "Most anomaly realms develop strange flora, mutated physics, maybe localized time dilation. But yours? Your realm actively reacts, almost like it has a mind of its own. That's not supposed to happen until Tier 6—and even then, it's pretty rare."
They passed by a viewing bay where researchers were analyzing a realm simulation on a giant screen. One muttered something and pointed at a wiggling vine.
Mira stopped at a glass door labeled:
[Observation Bay: Polluted Cradle – Instance #2]
Inside was… his realm, or at least a simulation of it—a model of the jagged terrain, grey smog swirling over everything, with a model version of the Mirewarden, eerily still.
Ethan stepped up to the glass.
"How'd you recreate it?"
Mira tilted her head. "We didn't. The simulation is based on your realm's meta-data and memory signatures from your last visit. This is just an echo—a kind of reflection of it."
He turned toward her.
"So why am I here?"
"Because this realm reacts to you in ways we don't understand. And now that you've exposed it in an official tournament, the Academy has to either certify it… or classify it."
"Classify it?" Ethan frowned. "Like… classified as dangerous?"
She gave him a knowing look, a little smirk that said: Yeah, you're catching on, newbie.
He looked back at the fake Mirewarden.
"I don't think it wants to hurt anyone though."
"It's not about what it wants, Ethan. It's about what it might become." she said gravely.
A moment of silence passed before another voice broke in.
"That's exactly what makes it fascinating, don't you think?"
Ethan turned.
A tall figure in a long, patchwork coat leaned against the wall, munching on a bright blue apple. His silver eyes shining behind a pair of round spectacles.
"Who are you?" Ethan asked warily.
The man grinned. "Dr. Vale calls me 'unauthorized personnel.' But you can call me Felix. Felix Crane." He tipped an imaginary hat with a playful bow.
"I'm a former researcher, or a rogue anomaly chaser—depends on who you ask." Felix took another bite of his apple.
Mira sighed audibly.
"Felix, You are not supposed to be here."
"And yet, here I am,"
Felix said cheerfully, back to Ethan "Because I happen to have studied sentient realms longer than this place has existed."
Ethan blinked. "You mean… you've seen realms like mine before?"
Felix's eyes twinkled.
"No, Ethan. I've seen realms worse than yours. Realms that whisper truths. Realms that build temples on their own. Realms that dream of their creators."
He stepped closer to the glass.
"But yours, though? Yours feels… awake. That Mirewarden? That wasn't a mutation."
Felix turned toward Ethan, his smile fading a little. "That was your realm… introducing itself."
Ethan wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw up.
Felix Crane's words echoed through his skull like the hum of a broken server.
"What do you mean introducing itself?" Ethan finally managed to croak out.
Felix gently tapped the glass panel that showed the Mirewarden's curled, motionless form inside the simulation chamber.
"This thing didn't just appear. It materialized during a duel. It responded to your fear and protected your core."
He turned to Dr. Mira.
"Tell him."
Mira exhaled slowly, folding her arms like she was bracing for impact.
"After reviewing the battle footage and realm response data, it's clear that Mirewarden formed right when Ethan's avatar was at critical health. It did not act randomly. It used strategic fog to cut off your view, protected important parts, and then… just stood there once the danger was gone."
Felix smirked, looking pretty proud of himself.
"See?"
"But that doesn't mean it's sentient," Mira said smoothly. "We're still analyzing the patterns and cause-effect. There are hundreds of tiny factors involved in how realms respond."
"It blinked," Felix said. "It blinked, Mira."
"That could have been a visual glitch."
"With five different camera feeds?"
"Coincidence, maybe."
"In a realm where plants wrap around his feet like puppies?"
"Stop dramatizing—"
"I'm telling you," Felix said, stepping forward, "this isn't just a data glitch. It's an identity. Ethan's realm is starting to form one."
"Okay, okay!" Ethan raised his hands to defuse the tension. "Can someone please just—translate this into normal language?"
Mira blinked. Then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right. Sorry about that."
She looked at him. "There's a small chance—just a small one—that your realm is… self-organizing. Not just reacting to what's around it, but actually shaping things on its own."
"You mean like… making decisions?"
"Possibly."
Felix grinned. "You've got yourself a pretty clever little world, kid."
Ethan's stomach felt weird, a twist of nerves.
"So, what do I do now?"
Mira straightened. "You'll undergo monitored realm sessions. We'll watch how you interact and see just how 'alive' your realm really is. And if it keeps acting weird… well, you might need to be contained then."
Felix waved his apple casually. "Ignore those scary words. Just play nice with your dirt baby, and you'll be fine."
Ethan couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. "Easy for you to say. You don't have a vine growing out of your sleeping pod."
Felix stopped chewing.
"Wait… that actually happened?"
Mira's eyes narrowed. "That's not in the report."
"I didn't mean to freak anyone out," Ethan mumbled. "It was just a tiny root. Probably nothing."
Mira was already scribbling into her clipboard, muttering about increased sleep surveillance.
Felix, however, looked positively thrilled. "Oh, this just keeps getting better."
Great.
Now I'm officially a walking realm hazard with bedtime plant problems.
"Can I go now?" Ethan asked, rubbing his temple.
Mira nodded reluctantly. "For today, yes. But we'll schedule follow-ups. And Ethan… don't access your realm without authorization."
"Why not?" Ethan asked, puzzled.
"Because we don't know what triggers its behavior yet," she said softly. "And because your realm might know you more than you know it."
Felix leaned toward Ethan with a crooked grin.
"She's saying, if it wakes up too fast… it might not need you anymore."
Wait, what?
Before Ethan could question him further, the sliding doors hissed open behind him, and a guard waved him out politely but firmly.
"You're dismissed—for now," Mira said, already busy with her tablet. "But keep your neural scan bracelet on. If your realm does anything funny again… we'll know."
Ethan stepped out of the cold lab air and into the hallway, his mind spiraling like a drain.
My realm can think.
It's watching me.
It made something just to protect me.
And maybe… just maybe… it doesn't need me forever.
The hallway lights flickered once.
Somewhere, deep in the hidden corners of his mind, a voice whispered through muck and root:
"You are not alone here."