The light swallowed them whole.
For a moment, there was nothing — no sound, no color, no feeling. Only the soft hum of something ancient breathing around them.
Then the world snapped into focus.
They stood at the center of an enormous, surreal landscape. Floating islands drifted in the air, rivers of glowing code flowed between them like veins, and giant mechanical roots twisted through the sky — pulsing with fading life.
Above it all loomed a massive core — a living heart of the system. It spun slowly, cracked and wounded, leaking trails of corrupted data into the air like black smoke.
In front of the Core stood two paths.
On the left: a shining gateway marked Preservation.
On the right: a darkened rift marked Erasure.
> [System Directive: Final Decision Required.]
Raka stepped forward, boots sinking slightly into the shifting data-ground.
Iqiww remained still, his eyes tracing every line of code threading through the sky.
"This is it," Raka said softly.
"Yeah," Iqiww replied. His voice barely a whisper. "The heartbeat of everything."
---
They approached the central platform where a console floated mid-air — ancient, covered in cracked runes of old game versions.
The Architect's voice echoed around them — distant, heavy.
> "Players Raka and Iqiww. You carry the Fragments of Memory."
"You hold the weight of the world that was."
"Now, choose: Preserve this dimension… or free it through oblivion."
Raka stared at the console.
Memories flooded his mind — the first time he installed the game in a smoky internet cafe, the laughter during chaotic free-for-alls, the friends he never met in real life but felt closer to than anyone.
He clenched his fists.
"If we preserve it," he said aloud, "we stay here. Forever. As its guardians. Never waking up."
Iqiww's brow furrowed. "If we erase it… the world dies. And we go with it."
Silence.
The river of code around them pulsed — slower, weaker — as if the system itself was waiting.
---
"You know what's crazy?" Iqiww said, voice cracking. "I thought... I'd be ready to say goodbye.
That it'd be easy. Just push a button, poof, over."
He laughed bitterly.
"But looking at this… I realize… every pixel, every line of glitchy code, every broken map… it's part of me."
Raka closed his eyes.
"Me too."
He touched the hilt of his starter sword — the same one from years ago — still scratched, still imperfect.
He remembered the first time he earned it.
The pride. The pure joy.
How do you delete a piece of your soul?
---
Suddenly, the air shimmered.
Ghostly figures began appearing around them — players from the past. Their old guildmates. Forgotten rivals. Even random strangers from match chats.
They laughed. They fought. They danced clumsily in old emotes.
Silent, frozen echoes of a world that once thrived.
Raka bit his lip hard.
"I don't want to be the guy who kills all of them," he whispered.
Iqiww stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"But if we stay," Iqiww said gently, "we'll just be preserving a graveyard."
---
The console flickered, presenting the two final options:
> [Option A: Preserve. Enter Eternal Guardian Mode. No Return.]
[Option B: Erase. Initiate System Collapse. Full Logout Available.]
A timer appeared.
> [Choice Deadline: 300 seconds.]
Five minutes.
And then... the system would choose for them.
---
Raka turned to Iqiww, voice shaking.
"What do you think?"
Iqiww stared up at the Core, its fractures deepening.
"I think..." he said slowly, "...memories aren't supposed to be cages."
He met Raka's eyes.
"We honor them by letting them go."
Raka swallowed hard. His hands trembled.
But deep down, he knew.
He always knew.
With a heavy heart, he placed his hand over Option B.
Iqiww placed his hand alongside.
Together, they pressed.
The console glowed blindingly bright.
The river of code began to unravel.
The sky cracked open — lines of deletion slicing across the world.
The ghostly figures turned to look at them, smiling softly, as if thanking them.
---
The Architect's final words echoed:
> "Memory is not lost by destruction. It is kept... by the heart."
The Core exploded in a silent burst of light.
---
Logout Successful.
Connection Terminated.
---
Raka jolted awake.
Sweat drenched his body. His old, dusty headset slipped off as he sat up in his room — small, cluttered, unchanged since his high school days.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds.
His laptop, still open, showed the Lost Saga launcher.
But the servers were offline.
Permanently.
He turned to see a message flashing on his screen:
> "Thank you for playing."
---
At that moment, his phone buzzed.
A new message from Iqiww.
> [Bro... mau ngopi? Banyak yang mau gua ceritain.]
Raka smiled through the tears.
The game was gone.
But the memories, the friendship, the journey...
They were forever.
---
To Be Continued...