Chapter 6: A Fragment's Reflection
The [Fragment of a Thousand Faces] pulsed with an otherworldly glow, its geometric facets refracting the hellish light of Múspellsheim across the obsidian walls of Megumin's inner sanctum. For months now, it had rested upon a pedestal of blackened bone, a looming reminder of the choice before her. The artifact's presence warped and rippled the very fabric of the chamber, casting impossible shadows that flickered and capered at the edges of sight.
Megumin stood before it, unblinking. Her crimson eyes mirrored the Fragment's eldritch gleam. Promise of revolution whispered at the edges of her mind—but it was too soon. She had managed to stave off the temptation to scratch that particular itch, for now.
"Nine months..."
In a chamber of endless wonders, the small, pulsing shard commanded her entire existence.
"Nine months since I braved the Eternal Forge alone for you. And still, I hesitate."
The memories of that solo raid shimmered behind her eyes, as vivid as the day she'd lived them. The baleful light of the great molten wyrms. The thunder of collapsing earth. The rapture as she unleashed magic beyond limit and reason, tearing the titan's heart from its chest with an explosion that rent the very sky. For one glorious, infinite instant, she had been more than the Crimson Demon. More than human.
She was as pure as an explosion.
The forums had erupted afterwards, alight with her legend; whispers of the mad mage who challenged eternity alone and spat in the face of impossible odds. Salt flowed like lava as commentators dissected her every move, seeking the secret exploits she must have used.
"Ha! As if my glory could be so cheaply replicated."
Megumin had basked in it, sipping their awe and envy like the finest NEET nectar—hearty calories for a starving soul.
With a mere thought and flick of the wrist, she conjured the item's true nature:
[Fragment of Thousand Faces]
[World Class Item: Bypass conditions for a player to change race. Single-use item]
[The Fragment was born from the shattered remains of the World Tree's first blossom, carrying within it the essence of all beings. Its ever-shifting surface grants its wielder the power to remake themselves as they desire. Once used, the Fragment crumbles to dust, leaving only the echo of infinite possibilities in its wake.]
"It's too cool," Megumin said, her eyes sparkling as she caressed the flavor-text window once again.
Change. Rebirth. Apotheosis. The words danced before her mind's eye, glittering glimpses of distant shores she could never reach. With but a thought, she could assume the form of any race Yggdrasil had to offer, unshackled from mortal limitations. Cosmic fire coursed under her skin, begging for release that reality could only ever deny.
And yet…
"The flavor text is too cool that I don't ever want to use it!" Megumin cried out.
The young mage grasped her head in exasperation, fingers tangling in brunette locks. Her immaculate taste in all things awesome had suddenly become a hindrance on her path to the pinnacle of power. What a waste it would be to have such a legendary item disappear before her very eyes.
She began to pace, her mind racing with possibilities. What form should she take, if she were to use the Fragment? Each race in Yggdrasil offered unique advantages, and Megumin found herself considering options she'd never before entertained.
"Perhaps a dragon?" she mused aloud, striking a fearsome pose. "Scales as hard as diamond, breath a weapon to rival my explosions. Yes. Yes, very cool."
Her gaze fell upon a tome of celestial lore, and a new idea sparked. "An angel, perhaps? Wings of radiant light, holy magic to purify my foes." She shook her head vigorously. "Bah! Too goody-two-shoes. A Crimson Demon must embrace the darkness!"
As if in response to her thoughts, shadows seemed to deepen in the corners of her sanctum. Megumin's eyes gleamed with new possibility. "A being of pure darkness? Tentacles writhing with eldritch power, knowledge to drive mortals mad?" She paused, considering. "Hmm, promising, but the upkeep on tentacle polish alone would be ruinous."
On and on she went, conjuring and dismissing potential forms with theatrical flair. Demons, elementals, fae creatures—each one an intriguing choice in their own ways, yet somehow falling short of grand ambitions.
"Gah!" Megumin threw up her hands in frustration. "How can I, the great Megumin, be expected to choose but one form when all cannot meet my magnificence?"
As she ranted, a notification pinged softly in the corner of her vision. Megumin blinked, thrown off her dramatic momentum.
[From: XxDarkLordxX]
[Crimson! You're the player who soloed the Eternal Forge. Sick! Wanna team up for the new Helheim raid? We could use some of that explosion magic.]
Megumin stared at the message. Part of her preened at the recognition, basking in the admiration of her fellow players. But another part, one that sounded suspiciously like Kazuma, whispered of the hollowness of such fleeting connections.
Her fingers hovered over the reply button, a dozen responses flitting through her mind. Should she accept, adding another notch to her belt of virtual glory? Or dismiss them, maintaining her aloof and legendary status?
In the end, she closed the message without responding. The momentary distraction faded, leaving her once again alone in her sanctum.
Megumin's gaze drifted across the chamber, taking in the fruits of her digital labors. Trophies from a hundred conquered dungeons lined the walls. Grimoires of forgotten magic hovered in stasis, their eldritch secrets as unreachable as the connection she craved.
Her eyes lingered on each artifact, memories flooding back with bittersweet intensity. The Helm of the Frost Giant King, claimed after a week-long siege of Jotunheim's capital. The Staff of a Thousand Suns, forged in the heart of a dying star.
But as she catalogued her treasures, something grew in the pit of her stomach.
"My dear explosions," Megumin murmured, her usual bravado faltering. "What use are your flames if they illuminate nothing but my own shadow?"
Her gaze slid treacherously to the NPC console glowing in the chamber's far corner, still open from her latest futile effort. Its light seemed dimmer since the day she first installed it, cowed by the Fragment's impossible shine, yet still it beckoned.
Megumin's feet moved of their own accord, carrying her past trophies that now seemed as hollow as a dusty town's praise. The console surface rippled beneath her touch, conjuring a translucent bust from digital mist. A face, achingly familiar yet never quite right, greeted her from digital mist.
A face took shape before her, features coalescing from the ether. Tousled brown hair, forever trapped in a state of calculated carelessness. Eyes that glimmered with equal parts mischief and exasperation, a gaze she knew better than her own reflection. The slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw—details etched into her memory, now given digital form.
"Kazuma-san."
Megumin regarded the wireframe model of Kazuma, her heart clenching at the sight. Her fingers moved in a dance they'd long since memorised, adding a wayward tuft of hair here, a sardonic twist of lip there. Tiny adjustments that did nothing to bridge the uncanny valley between memory and simulacrum.
"If you could see the great Megumin now, would you laugh? Or sigh?"
Silence was her only answer, the unfinished NPC as mute as ever. How many data crystals had she spent on this folly, this doomed attempt to conjure a familiar presence in a world that knew only masks? Every Kazuma she crafted was wrong, a cruel parody lacking the soul that had made needling him worth savouring. Their eyes were glass, their clever tongues an unconvincing forgery.
With a frustrated growl, Megumin dismissed the Kazuma model. In its place, she conjured an image of Aqua, the self-proclaimed goddess's features slowly taking shape beneath her fingers.
Aqua's likeness emerged, a vision of haughty perfection. The cerulean sheen of her hair, the porcelain smoothness of her skin—Megumin had captured every detail with painstaking precision.
Yet the spark of divine petulance, the mercurial charm that had made Aqua so infuriatingly endearing, was nowhere to be found. This Aqua stared back at her, utterly devoid of the vibrant spirit that could drive Megumin to the brink of madness and back again.
Next came Darkness, the crusader's stoic features emerging from the formless data. Here too, Megumin had excelled in crafting a physical duplicate. The strong line of her jaw, the noble bearing of her posture—all were present and accounted for.
But how could mere polygons hope to convey the paradoxical blend of honor and perversion that made Darkness who she was? The NPC's eyes lacked that barely-restrained masochistic glee, that hunger for pain and humiliation that had always danced in the crusader's gaze.
One by one, Megumin attempted to recreate her lost companions. And one by one, she was forced to admit defeat. These digital echoes, no matter how faithfully rendered, could never replace the bonds she had forged in the crucible of adventure. What was the point of exploding the world if there was no one to share the embers with, no one to revel in the glorious destruction at her side?
The vast chamber pressed in around her, an airless tomb for one. Her arsenal of accolades and artifacts blurred, their lustre leeched away until only the Fragment and the failed familiars retained any colour. Two half-formed doors, both forever shut—one leading to a past she could never reclaim, the other to a future she feared to embrace.
Megumin sank to her knees, the weight of her isolation bearing down upon her. In this moment, surrounded by the trappings of her legend, she had never felt more alone. The great Crimson Demon, reduced to a shadow haunting her own memories.
"Yggdrasil!" Megumin shouted, her fists clenched. "You promised me power beyond measure! I have reached your summit! So why…" Her voice broke. "Why does victory taste like ash?"
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself to truly contemplate the real-world consequences of her obsession.
How long had it been since she'd attended a class? The vague memory of a concerned teacher's face floated to the surface of her mind, quickly submerged beneath a tide of dungeon layouts and spell calculations. Her grades, never stellar to begin with, must have plummeted into the abyss by now.
And Hana. Sweet, patient Hana, who had tried so hard to be her friend in that bleak world. When was the last time Megumin had spoken to her?
"What am I doing?" Megumin whispered.
She thought of her family back in her original world—her eccentric parents, her precocious little sister. What would they think of her now? The great Megumin, cowering in a virtual sanctuary, too afraid to face the harsh realities of a world without magic.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Some Crimson Demon I turned out to be. Yunyun would never let me hear the end of it if she could see me now."
As if summoned by her musings, a system notification chimed softly. Megumin opened it with a weary flick of her wrist, half-expecting another invitation to some raid or dungeon.
Instead, she found herself staring at a system update announcement:
[Attention, Yggdrasil players! The long-awaited "Valkyrie's Downfall" update is coming! Prepare for world-shaking changes, new race options, and the ultimate battle for the fate of the World Tree! Will you stand with the gods or join the forces of chaos? The choice is yours!]
Megumin's eyes widened as she scanned the details. New racial options, rebalanced skill trees, an entire realm's worth of fresh content to explore. Any other day, such an announcement would have set her heart racing with anticipation.
Now, she felt only a dull ache. "Another carrot dangled before our noses," she muttered, closing the notification with more force than necessary.
With slow, deliberate steps, Megumin approached the pedestal where the [Fragment of a Thousand Faces] pulsed with renewed intensity, as if sensing her turmoil. "And you," she addressed the artifact directly, her voice a mix of longing and accusation.
Megumin raised her hand, fingers hovering just above the Fragment's shimmering surface. She could feel its power calling to her, offering transformation beyond her wildest dreams. But now, with clarity born of introspection, she saw the trap for what it was.
With a determined set to her jaw, Megumin opened her inventory screen. Her eyes scanned the list of items she had accumulated over countless hours of gameplay. Each one a memory, a triumph, a piece of the legend she had built for herself in this digital realm.
One by one, she began to sort through them. Legendary weapons, priceless artifacts, rare crafting materials—all of it cataloged and evaluated with a critical eye she had never before turned on her virtual hoard.
As she worked, Megumin found herself analysing the game mechanics that had consumed so much of her time and energy. The intricacies of damage calculations, the hidden synergies between seemingly unrelated skills, the optimal paths for leveling and gear progression—all of it laid bare before her newly focused mind.
"To think," she mused aloud, "that I once found such joy in manipulating these systems. In finding the perfect combination of skills and equipment to maximise my explosive potential."
A wry smile tugged at her lips. "I suppose there's a certain poetry to it. The great Megumin, master of explosions, reduced to min-maxing spreadsheets and farming drop rates."
As she sorted, a plan began to form in her mind. It was audacious, perhaps even foolhardy—but then, when had that ever stopped her before?
Megumin's fingers flew across the interface, transferring items and currency with practised ease. Within minutes, she had amassed a fortune in tradable resources and high-value equipment. "If I'm to leave this stage," she declared to the empty chamber, "it shall be on my own terms. And perhaps… perhaps sow a little chaos while I'm at it."
With a few more taps, Megumin opened the global auction window and began composing a message:
[To: Newbie Support Fund Initiative]
[Subject: A parting gift from the Crimson Demon]
[Hear me, O' fledgling disciples of destruction!
I, Arch-Wizard of Explosions, Conqueror of the Eternal Forge, stand at the precipice of transcendence! As I prepare to ascend beyond the mortal coil of Yggdrasil, I deign to bestow upon you but a fraction of my cosmic might!
Use them with reckless abandon! Let the world quake beneath your newfound strength! And always remember—the path of explosions demands sacrifice, madness, and a complete disregard for sensible mana management! Go forth and spread glorious chaos in my name!
May your blasts be mighty and your cooldowns short,
Crimson Demon]
She paused, her finger hovering over the 'send' button. Was this really the right choice? To give away everything she had worked so hard to obtain?
But even as doubt gnawed at her, Megumin knew it was the only way forward. These digital trinkets, no matter how rare or powerful, could never fill the void left by real connections, real purpose.
"Balance this, shitty devs."
With a deep breath, she pressed 'send'.
A weight she hadn't realised she'd been carrying lifted from her shoulders. For the first time in months, perhaps years, Megumin felt truly light.
She turned back to the [Fragment of a Thousand Faces], regarding it with new eyes. No longer did it represent the pinnacle of her ambitions.
"Haaah, I think I understand better now," Megumin said softly, addressing the artifact as if it were an old friend. "Your power was never in the transformation itself, but in the choice. I recognise when it's time to set aside one mask and embrace a new path."
She reached out, her fingers finally making contact with the Fragment's surface.
"Thank you," she whispered, "for showing me what truly matters."
With a gentle tug, Megumin lifted the [Fragment of a Thousand Faces] from its pedestal. The artifact's glow intensified, bathing the chamber in a kaleidoscope of colour and possibility.
"Enjoy your last days, Yggdrasil," Megumin declared, her voice ringing with newfound purpose. "For when the great explosion mage leaves this stage, it shall be in the only way my legend allows..."
The Fragment flared, its light growing to near-blinding intensity. Megumin felt her form begin to shift, data and consciousness intertwining in a way that defied the world's parameters.
"...with a bang."
In that moment of transformation, as the boundaries between player and avatar blurred, Megumin made her choice. Not for power or prestige, but for the chance to reclaim the connections she had lost. To return to a world that, while harsh and unfamiliar, offered the possibility of real growth, real relationships.
The sanctum around her began to dissolve, pixels scattering like motes of dust in a digital wind. But Megumin stood tall, her eyes fixed on a horizon beyond Yggdrasil's rendered skies.
"This new form," she paused only for a moment. "It's not bad. It's just a shame I won't get to enjoy it."
As the last vestiges of her virtual empire faded away, a single thought crystallised in Megumin's mind: It was time to find a new path to walk—not one of digital glory, but genuine connection and purpose.
"[System command]: Log out."
The world of Yggdrasil vanished in a final, brilliant flash. And somewhere, in a small, cluttered apartment in Neo Tokyo, a girl opened her eyes to a new beginning.