The Boy with Ice-Blue Eyes
Tyla sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch of her small apartment, a steaming cup of instant coffee in her hands. The television flickered in the dim room, casting a cold glow over her surroundings. Her eyes were locked on the news report, her grip on the cup tightening.
"Severe earthquakes have struck multiple cities across the country, with some areas experiencing sudden sinkholes. Experts are baffled by the rapid shifts in the tectonic plates..."
" …Meteorologists report an unusual surge in electromagnetic activity in the sky."
" A entire fishing village near the eastern coast was found abandoned overnight—boats left drifting, houses eerily intact, but not a single person in sight..."
Tyla exhaled sharply. The air felt heavier these days, charged with something unnatural.
"It's happening again."
The words slithered into her mind before she could stop them. Memories from her past life—fragments of the chaos before the apocalypse—pressed against her like a suffocating weight. The earthquakes, the disappearances, the sky itself shifting in unnatural hues.
Before she could sink further into that abyss, a bright glow flashed before her.
"Lady Boss! Lady Boss! We've got an emergency!"
System 111, her tiny pixie-like system, zipped through the air, its wings leaving a faint shimmer in the darkened room.
Tyla groaned. "What is it now?"
The pixie hovered in front of her face, puffing out its tiny chest. "The activation of Battle Protocol Beta has been authorized!"
Tyla frowned. "Battle protocol?"
"Yes! It's a simulation program designed by Orieus to ensure the continuous upgrade of the successor of the Tabana Civilization! It's a must for the coming days , Lady Boss!"
Before she could protest, a translucent interface flickered into view.
[BATTLE SIMULATION INITIATED]
Opponent: Generated Novice Witch
Rewards: 1000 System Points + Mana Booster (x3)
Status: Compulsory .
Tyla's stomach twisted. "Wait—compulsory? Since when do I have to—?"
But the system wasn't listening. A rush of energy surged through her body as her surroundings blurred. The real world faded away.
And then—
Tyla opened her eyes to find herself standing in an arena of shifting light and shadow, the space around her an endless void. A figure materialized across from her—a female form cloaked in deep crimson robes, her aura pulsating with raw mana. Her opponent's eyes glowed like twin embers, sharp and unrelenting.
The system's voice rang in her mind. " welcome to the system battle space! Generated Novice Witch has entered the field. Prepare for battle!"
Generated witch....Why was her training focused on fighting a witch when the looming apocalypse would bring hordes of zombies and mutated creatures instead? Wouldn't it be more practical to learn how to counter the undead, resist infection, or handle large-scale battles against mindless swarms?That was what she had faced in her past life—endless waves of rotting corpses, their putrid stench filling the air, their relentless hunger driving them to tear through flesh and bone. She had fought, bled, and barely survived against mutated beasts with grotesque bodies and monstrous strength. Never once had she battled ….a witch! So why was the system throwing her into this fight now?
Tyla barely had time to shake off her thoughts before her opponent attacked.
A searing bolt of fire erupted from the witch's palm, streaking toward her like a comet. Tyla lunged to the side, barely dodging as the blast slammed into the ground, sending a shockwave of heat against her face.
Her heart pounded. Too fast!
The witch was already preparing her next move, weaving intricate hand signs. Sparks of electric blue crackled in the air.
Tyla gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus. Purification—light magic manipulation….Counter her before she finishes her spell!
She raised her hands, summoning a sphere of radiant energy—
But before she could fully form it, the enemy witch snapped her fingers.
A powerful wind spell slammed into Tyla's chest.
She gasped as she was thrown backward, her vision blurring from the impact. The ground rushed to meet her, and she barely managed to roll to absorb the fall.
Her opponent didn't stop. Shadows coiled around the witch's hands, forming dark tendrils that lashed out like whips. Tyla raised an arm to shield herself, but the force sent her crashing onto her side.
Pain exploded through her ribs.
She struggled to her feet, breathing hard. Think! What's my counter?
But the witch wasn't giving her time to strategize. She thrust her hands forward, unleashing a rain of molten fire.
Tyla's body reacted before her mind could. She dodged left, then right—but the next blast was unavoidable.
Heat engulfed her.
She screamed as flames wrapped around her arm, burning through her thin loungewear , searing her skin. Her knees buckled.
A cold realization settled over her….I'm losing.
Her enemy strode forward, raising a hand for the finishing blow.
Tyla forced herself to move, tried to cast—anything—but her mana felt sluggish, unresponsive.
The witch's hand came down. A final surge of raw force struck Tyla like a hammer.
The world shattered into blinding light.
[Battle Terminated]
When Tyla opened her eyes, she was back in her apartment, sprawled across the couch, drenched in sweat.
A dull, aching pain lingered in her limbs, though no physical injuries remained.
The system hovered beside her, unusually quiet.
Then—
The pixie let out a nervous chuckle, its tiny hands fidgeting with the hem of its pink flowery dress as if smoothing out invisible wrinkles. It hesitated, wings fluttering in an awkward rhythm, before blurting out, "…W-Well, that was… um—" It clapped its hands together, as if trying to piece together the right words. "Lady Boss, that was—not your best performance, but! But! You did great in, uh… surviving?"
Tyla glared. "Gee, thanks."
A notification blinked on the interface.
[Simulation Failed]
No rewards earned.
Advice: Train harder, Lady Boss!
Tyla clenched her fists. Humiliation burned in her chest—her performance had been utterly disgraceful. She had barely reacted before the generated witch overwhelmed her, her attacks clumsy, her defense nonexistent. She had been tossed around like a helpless novice, reduced to screaming in pain instead of fighting back.
But beneath the shame, a sharp determination took root. She refused to stay weak.
***
Later that day:
Tyla pulled her hoodie tighter around her face as she stepped out of her apartment, the stale air of the dimly lit corridor brushing against her skin. The weak overhead lights flickered, casting long shadows across the worn-out floor as she moved, her mind occupied with a mental checklist of supplies she needed.
She was halfway down the corridor when a sudden blur of motion darted in front of her.
Her body jerked to a stop, heart slamming into her ribs.
A child.
A small boy had nearly crashed into her, his tiny form barely reaching her waist. The oversized sweater he wore swallowed his frame, the sleeves hanging past his hands. But what struck her hardest—what made the breath catch in her throat—were his eyes.
A deep, piercing icy blue.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
The world around her blurred. Sound faded. It was just those eyes—hauntingly familiar, impossibly vivid.
A phantom memory rippled through her mind—a scene she had buried deep, deep within herself.
The muffled echo of her own laughter.
The warmth of her palm pressing gently against a small, growing curve.
A fragile dream she once had.
Her fingers twitched, and before she could stop herself, her hand moved to her stomach, a soft, instinctive motion—one filled with an ache she couldn't name.
The boy stared back at her, unblinking. His expression unreadable, yet strangely innocent.
Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he turned away.
Tyla blinked, the moment snapping like a thread pulled too tight.
She watched in silence as the child disappeared into the apartment across from hers, the door creaking shut behind him.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
The air felt heavier.
She clenched her fingers against her hoodie, forcing the ghosts of the past back into their cage.
With a slow exhale, she shook herself from the haze and continued walking.
***
By the time she reached the antique shop, her pulse had settled, though the strange encounter still clung to the edges of her mind.
The bell chimed softly as she entered, the scent of old paper and polished wood filling her lungs. Dim lanterns bathed the shop in a golden glow, casting shadows over the countless relics stacked in every corner.
Her eyes scanned the shelves, searching.
She ran her fingers over the cards hidden in her hoodie's sleeve. A quick, subtle draw—just enough to confirm the pull she felt. The answer was clear this time.
Not that Tarot had the best track record in her hands. Long-term predictions? A mess. Short-term accuracy? Debatable. But when it came to guiding her to the right trinkets? Well, she liked to think she and fate had a mutual understanding—at least for now.
Without hesitation, she followed the unseen thread, her gaze locking onto a small silver pendant. A quiet hum pulsed beneath her fingertips. Yes. This was the one.
The most valuable and underpriced piece in the whole shop.
She would make a lot of cash reselling it after a quick [Mend].
After making her purchase, she left the antique shop and headed toward the next destination on her mental list—Wang Supermarket…. Cause why not? It's a zero-dollar purchase.
The neon sign flickered above the entrance, buzzing faintly against the night air.
She pushed through the doors.
As she walked in, a snippet of conversation between two customers caught her attention.
"I'm telling you, the place is haunted," one whispered. "Goods kept vanishing from the shelves, but there's no sign of break-ins."
"The police checked the security footage and still couldn't explain it," the other added. "The owner's losing it—he even hired an exorcist and paid a fortune."
Tyla bit back a smirk.
"Pfft—Lady Boss, you're a legend!" The system burst into laughter, its tiny wings fluttering as it hugged its stomach.
She only hummed in response.
Time to stock up…. Again.