Sora Mizuno’s apartment was a graveyard of instant noodle cups and blinking LEDs. At twenty-one, he’d flunked out of college, ghosted his friends, and sunk his savings into Skyveil, a VRMMO that promised freedom. Tonight, he was grinding a raid, his headset humming as his avatar tanked a dragon’s fire. “One more hit,” he muttered, ignoring the headache clawing his skull. The screen glitched—static, then black. Pain spiked, and Sora fell.

He woke on a slab of stone, wind howling around him. Floating isles drifted above a sea of clouds, their edges jagged like broken glass. Sora’s hoodie was intact, but his VR rig was gone. In its place, a metallic gauntlet clung to his right arm, its runes pulsing faintly. “No logout button,” he croaked, panic rising. “This isn’t Skyveil.”

A roar shook the isle. A beast—half-lion, half-flame—charged from the mist. Sora stumbled back, raising the gauntlet on instinct. It flared, sucking the beast’s fire into itself, then spat it out as a shield of embers. The lion yelped, retreating. Sora stared at his hand, heart pounding. “Okay, that’s new.”

Before he could test it again, a figure dropped from above—a girl with silver hair and blades wreathed in lightning. She landed gracefully, eyeing Sora like a puzzle. “You’re no spirit,” she said, her voice sharp. “How’d you tame a flamebeast?”

“Didn’t tame it,” Sora said, still shaky. “I’m… lost. Name’s Sora.”

“Kalia,” she replied, sheathing her blades. “Storm-dancer of the Zephyr Clan. Or what’s left of it.” Her eyes flicked to the gauntlet. “That’s no ordinary trinket. Where’d you get it?”

“No clue,” Sora admitted. “Woke up with it. Where am I?”

“Valthera,” Kalia said, scanning the horizon. “And you’re standing on a rift-vein. Bad place to linger.”

As if on cue, the isle trembled. A crack split the stone, leaking violet energy that burned Sora’s skin. Kalia grabbed his arm, pulling him toward a rickety skiff tethered nearby. “Move, or the rift eats you!”

They sailed to a larger isle, where vines glowed and ruins whispered of a lost age. Kalia explained: Valthera was fracturing, its elements—fire, storm, earth, void—out of balance. Riftbound like Sora were rare, unbound by any faction, but hunted for their power. “That gauntlet,” she said, “it’s a Relic. Dangerous. Keep it hidden.”

Sora flexed his hand, feeling the gauntlet hum. “Dangerous sounds about right. You got a plan?”

Kalia’s jaw tightened. “Find my clan. They vanished when a rift swallowed our isle. You?”

“Figure out why I’m here,” Sora said, thinking of his wasted years. “And not screw it up.”

Kalia’s lips twitched—a half-smile. “Then we travel together. For now.”

As they set off, Sora glanced at the gauntlet. It felt alive, like a second pulse. Valthera wasn’t a game, but he’d play it his way—no guides, no resets.

Chapter 1: Glitch in the Grid

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