Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 120: The Room (2)

The quest didn't vanish.

It folded.

Like a page being dog-eared. Not ignored. Just… marked.

Merlin didn't relax.

He'd read enough of the fine print by now to know what it meant when a system respected your disobedience.

It meant it was curious.

Which was worse.

He stared at the glass again.

Nathan had stopped pacing.

Elara leaned against the far wall, arms crossed tight.

Seraphina had her back to both of them. Still. Listening.

They couldn't see him.

But he saw them.

[Optional Override Detected.]

[Initiating Dynamic Trial Shift.]

[Parameters adjusting…]

Mae glanced his way. Quick. Sharp.

"You feel that?"

He nodded once. "Room's changing."

Dion stepped beside her, scanning the walls.

"I knew it," he muttered. "This was way too… symmetrical."

Flint was already moving. Quiet. Controlled. One step toward the corner. Testing angles.

Merlin's screen flickered again.

[New Option: Override the Host Chamber]

[Success Rate: 13%]

[Conditions: Time, Spatial Link, Active System Control Required]

M[Penalty for Failure: Unknown]

'Perfect,' he thought. 'Suicidal odds and mystery consequences.'

The gods really did know his brand.

He tapped into his core.

Not deep. Just enough to send a ripple through his affinities.

Wind first, barely a breeze under his skin.

Then time. Slower. More delicate.

He traced the pulse of the room, looking for breaks in the rhythm.

Not magical.

Just architectural.

'The system sees the room as a sealed node.'

'But if I shift my link status—'

His fingers moved subtly, brushing the side seam of his coat. He counted four runes etched into the lining. The fifth one was dormant.

Until now.

He pressed it.

Nothing exploded.

Good start.

The room dimmed by one degree.

Dion stopped mid-step.

Mae's head tilted like she heard something coming from beneath the floor.

"Okay," Dion said. "You're all hearing that humming now, right?"

Merlin didn't answer.

Because the override attempt had opened something else.

A second line of text:

[Manual Interface Acknowledged.]

[Command Accepted: SHIFT ROLE — Game Master Override]

His heart hitched once.

Only once.

He looked up slowly. The glass rippled.

Nathan's silhouette shimmered.

Then froze.

The entire room behind the glass went still.

Like someone had pressed pause.

Mae exhaled.

"What the hell was that?"

Merlin didn't respond.

Because the gods just leaned in.

[The Messenger is smiling.]

[The Grin Beneath the Mask bares his teeth.]

[The Shadow in the Script begins to write.]

And for once?

Merlin smiled too.

Because if this worked?

He wasn't just breaking the trial.

He was rewriting it.

—

The override was working.

Merlin could feel it in his teeth.

That low, gritty hum under the stone—

Not magic.

System-level.

A current shifting course.

He didn't smile.

Didn't breathe too deep.

Any break in rhythm would broadcast everything.

[Game Master Interface: Initializing…]

[Manual Access Node 2 / 3 Stabilized.]

"Alright," Dion muttered. "I've officially hit my weird threshold."

Merlin didn't respond.

He was too busy re-mapping the chamber layout through pressure differential patterns.

Which, from the outside?

Probably looked like he was standing very still and plotting something terrifying.

Flint moved first.

A step.

Subtle. Controlled.

Not a threat yet.

"Merlin," he said.

Quiet. Flat.

No emotion.

Merlin looked up.

Too slow.

Dion was already circling, hand near his side.

Mae hadn't moved.

Not because she trusted him.

Because she didn't trust them.

"Something you wanna explain, gold-eyes?" Dion said, tone still half-casual, half-cocked.

Merlin blinked.

Then looked at them both.

The room flickered again.

Glass pulsed.

Nathan's group shimmered in the background—still paused, still frozen like the system hadn't decided what timeline they were in.

"Not right now," Merlin said. "Trust me."

Wrong answer.

Flint's stance shifted. Not full attack.

But braced.

Dion exhaled slowly. "See, I would. I really would. But then you started doing… whatever this is."

Mae finally spoke.

"Back off." freēwēbnovel.com

Dion didn't.

Flint's fingers twitched.

Merlin straightened.

Not defensive.

Just bracing.

He could feel the override reaching its third node.

[Node 3 Status: Pending…]

[Integrity: Unstable]

[WARNING: Physical interruption may terminate override.]

Perfect.

He met Flint's gaze.

Quiet.

Steady.

"I'm not your enemy."

"You sure?" Flint said. "Because this place doesn't like subtle."

Merlin stepped sideways.

One inch.

No weapon drawn.

The lights above them dimmed.

The hum rose.

And Dion's hand snapped to his blade.

"Last chance," he said. "You doing something stupid, or saving us all?"

Merlin looked at the system window blinking red in the corner of his vision.

Then said.

"Both."

—

"You're lying."

Flint moved first hearing that without hesitation.

Of course he did.

No warning. Just motion like a switchblade flicking open.

Merlin pivoted, barely missing the grab. Dion was already following, too fast, too tight, a blur of panic wrapped in training.

The hum in the floor stuttered.

[Override: Unstable]

[Node 3 Disruption Detected]

[Stabilization: 11%…]

'Damn it.'

He ducked left, not to escape, just to buy one breath. His back hit the cold edge of the wall as Flint's arm passed inches from his jaw, blade reversed, not lethal yet.

Not yet.

"Flint," he said, low, clipped, "you don't want to do this."

"Pretty sure I do," Flint answered.

Dion came in from the right.

Boots hit stone in rhythm. His knife wasn't drawn. He was using fists. That was worse.

He aimed for the shoulder, non-lethal. Smart. Quick. Controlled.

Merlin let the punch connect.

He twisted with it, dropping into the roll, just enough to keep the override interface pulsing in his peripheral.

[Stabilization: 16%…]

[Time remaining: 12 seconds.]

Mae's voice rang out, sharp.

"Stop!"

Ignored.

Dion's next hit was lower. A sweep. Merlin jumped, too slow.

Flint clipped his ankle.

Merlin hit the ground hard.

The glass shook.

Nathan's reflection didn't move.

Not yet.

Dion was on him again, too close for magic, too tight for clever.

Merlin snapped wind affinity into his leg.

Not to strike.

To push.

He launched backward like a spring, skidding across the polished floor. His elbow slammed into the edge of the stone, but he was clear.

Mae stood between them now. Arms raised.

"This is not the way," she shouted.

Flint didn't lower his stance.

Neither did Dion.

Merlin got to one knee.

[Stabilization: 42%…]

[Critical Window: Approaching.]

He wiped blood from the corner of his lip. Just a smear. Just enough to remind him what was at stake.

"Okay," he muttered, "no one listens. Got it."

He pushed to his feet.

The light dimmed again.

He could feel the gods watching now.

Not interfering.

Just entertained.

[The Grin Beneath the Mask adjusts his seat.]

[The Messenger leans forward.]

"Round two?" Dion asked.

Merlin didn't answer.

He raised his hand.

Just slightly.

And the air pressure dropped.

Hard.

Enough to make Flint blink.

Enough to make Dion hesitate.

Enough for Mae to lower her voice and step back.

Merlin stared at all three of them.

"I'm not your enemy," he said again. "But if you make me act like one…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

Because this time?

They were listening.

Sort of.

[Override: 78%…]

[Final calibration in progress.]

One more breath.

One more twitch.

And the room might go very, very still.

—

The hum in the walls changed.

Nathan knew it wasn't his imagination because Seraphina flinched a second before he did. Elara had already turned to face the glass. Her hand hovered an inch off her spear, just in case.

Still nothing on the other side.

Still the same black glass.

Still Merlin's silhouette just barely visible. And three more, blurry, moving too fast to make sense.

"Okay," Nathan said. "Anyone else feeling the horror movie score ramping up or just me?"

No one laughed.

Good. He wasn't trying to be funny.

He stepped closer to the glass. Not touching. Just close enough that the pulse in his temple lined up with the vibration in the floor.

It was… wrong.

Not a "something's coming" kind of wrong.

More like "something already came and didn't knock."

The glass rippled.

Elara drew in a breath so sharp it almost counted as a reaction.

Nathan narrowed his eyes.

Merlin's shape was barely visible through the filter, he was crouched. Then upright. Then still.

Like a chess piece just moved out of sequence.

"What the hell is going on over there?" Nathan muttered.

Seraphina moved up beside him.

"I can't see clearly," she said. "But the one on the left—the taller one—he lunged at someone."

"Lunged like a hug or like a 'your kidneys look tasty' kind of lunge?"

She didn't answer.

Elara didn't blink.

Nathan stared harder. The figures were arguing. Probably. Moving too fast for conversation. One of them was a shorter build, high shoulders, was pacing in a tight half-circle. Another had gone still, like they were deciding if dying here was worth the paperwork.

Nathan exhaled.

'They're fighting…?'

His gut already knew.

Merlin was in trouble.

And not the monster-screaming, wall-breaking, usual kind.

The worse kind.

The kind that involved people you were supposed to trust.

He turned from the glass.

"Elara," he said.

"I know."

She didn't move.

Didn't stop watching.

Nathan's fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. A beat. A tempo.

He wasn't pacing yet, which meant he still had options.

"I don't like this," he muttered.

"No one does," Seraphina said.

"But I really don't like it."

He stepped back.

Turned away from the window like it didn't matter.

Like his brain wasn't still rewinding the last few seconds.

'Merlin wasn't defending. He was delaying.'

'He's trying to buy time.'

'For what?'

The walls hummed louder.

The floor got colder.

And deep in Nathan's chest?

Something shifted.

Like the system he wasn't supposed to have was watching.

And didn't like what it saw.