World Without End

The night clung to Jakarta like a damp blanket, its humidity seeping into every corner of the city. Neon signs flickered weakly, their glow barely cutting through the oppressive darkness.

In a cramped apartment, Alex sat motionless, bathed in the sickly green light of his monitor. The screen displayed The Old Quest, a game that had consumed his life for the past three months. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, were fixed on the digital world before him, unblinking.

Most players chased the thrill of loot or the fleeting glory of leaderboards. Not Alex. He was after something else—something deeper. The Old Quest was no ordinary game. It had no level cap, no endpoint, just an endless horizon of progression. For Alex, it wasn't about being the best; it was about uncovering the secrets hidden in its code, the mysteries buried in its lore. He wanted to understand it, to master it in a way no one else could.

His avatar, Acomalaka, stood as a testament to his obsession. Once adorned in flashy gear, the Sage now wore a practical ensemble, each piece meticulously crafted and enchanted through hours of grinding. Dark circles hung under Alex's eyes, a testament to sleepless nights and meals eaten hastily at his desk. The world outside his window felt distant, almost unreal, compared to the vivid, all-consuming universe of The Old Quest.

"This is boring," Alex muttered, leaning back in his chair. His fingers drummed restlessly on the keyboard. For three months, he'd pushed himself to the limit, sacrificing sleep, socializing, and even basic self-care. He'd chased level after level, dungeon after dungeon, but now, as he stared at the screen, a hollow feeling settled in his chest. The thrill was gone. The game, once a source of endless fascination, had become a monotonous grind.

He glanced at the window. Outside, Jakarta buzzed with life—cars honked, people laughed, and the city pulsed with energy. Inside, Alex felt like a ghost, trapped in a cycle of repetition. The neon lights reflected off his monitor, casting faint colors across the room.

He sighed and turned back to the screen.

[You leveled up to 600!]

The notification flashed across the screen, but Alex felt nothing. No pride, no satisfaction—just emptiness. He'd done it. He'd reached a level no one else had even come close to. The leaderboard was a wasteland, with the next player, "Bintang Malam," a distant 68 levels behind. Alex was alone at the top, a solitary figure in a desolate landscape.

"Guess I win," he said dryly, his voice echoing in the quiet room. He leaned back, stretching his arms. "Time to take a break."

But before he could shut down the game, a system-wide announcement popped up, its bold red text impossible to ignore.

[Congratulations, player Alexander! You have achieved the highest level in The Old Quest. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the game will be undergoing a permanent shutdown.]

Alex stared at the screen, his stomach dropping. "What the hell?" he snapped, slamming his fist on the desk.

The sound echoed through the apartment, but no one was there to hear it. Anger surged through him, hot and sharp.

After all the time he'd invested, after all the sacrifices he'd made, the game was just… shutting down?

But beneath the anger, a flicker of curiosity stirred. Unforeseen circumstances? What could that mean? The phrase gnawed at him, refusing to let go. He clicked through menus, searching for answers, but found nothing. The game's forums were flooded with confused and angry players, but no one had any real information.

Alex's fingers hovered over the keyboard. He couldn't just let it end like this. Not after everything he'd put into the game. He navigated Acomalaka through the empty streets of the game's central hub, a once-bustling town now eerily silent. The air felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension.

Then he saw it.

In the corner of the tavern, a lone figure sat hunched over a table. Above their head floated a golden question mark—a quest marker. Alex frowned. He'd completed every quest in the game. There shouldn't be any left. He toggled his quest log, confirming that it was empty. Yet the marker remained.

Curiosity piqued, Alex approached the figure. As he drew closer, they lifted their head, revealing a weathered face and sharp, piercing eyes.

"So, you're the one," the figure said, their voice low and gravelly. "The one who reached the impossible."

Alex's grip tightened on his mouse. "Who are you?"

"I am Kiara, Keeper of Forgotten Lore," the figure replied. "And this… this is no ordinary quest."

Alex's heart raced. "What do you mean?"

Kiara leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that made Alex's skin prickle. "They say The Old Quest was more than just a game. Some believe it was a gateway—a bridge to something beyond. And you, by reaching level 600, may have unlocked it."

"Tell me more," Alex character said, his voice filled with newfound determination.

"You don't need to hear more, I want you to experience it more."

Before he could react, Kiara reached out and grabbed Acomalaka's hand. A blinding light erupted from the screen, flooding the room. Alex shielded his eyes, but the light was overwhelming. He felt a strange sensation, like falling and floating at the same time, and then—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Alex?" His mother's voice cut through the haze. "Are you in there? I brought your favorite mac and cheese."

The door creaked open, and the light from the hallway spilled into the room. Alex's computer sat silent, the monitor dark. On the screen, a single line of text glowed faintly:

[The Old Quest is now shutdown.]

His mother sighed. "I guess he's not here. I'll wait for him to come back."

She closed the door, leaving the room empty. The air felt heavier now, charged with the weight of Kiara's words.

< Chapter 1 > Fin.