Most people remember Sera for what she became.
Archmage of Tempest Tower. Leader of the Top 10 global leaderboard for three straight seasons. The first solo player to clear the Infinite Arcane Trials. Her battle footage once caused a game-wide rollback because she discovered a damage combo that broke the simulation engine.
But before all that?
Nobody noticed her.
Not even me — not at first.
In my original timeline, Sera was a ghost. A quiet, anti-social player with no party invites and zero presence. She soloed everything. Never joined guilds. Barely spoke in global. People thought she was an NPC half the time. Even when I eventually crossed paths with her in a raid, I never really saw her.
Not until she wiped the floor with an elite boss that took our whole team ten minutes to kill — in 45 seconds — alone.
After that, people started noticing.
But by then it was too late.
She'd already decided people weren't worth her time.
This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.
I flipped through my notebook as I stood on the edge of a grassy bluff overlooking Moonshade Vale — a quiet, dreamlike stretch of twilight forest nestled near the southern border of Hollowroot's starter zone.
Sera's first log-in pinged here.
She always picked the default caster avatar — slim, hooded, pale. She'd take her first quest from an old monk NPC who gave out a class-specific puzzle scroll, then vanish into the mist for four levels before anyone knew what happened to her.
But I remembered the timing. I remembered the monk. And I remembered where she always went first.
The Broken Altar.
A ruined temple hidden behind a waterfall on the northern edge of the vale. It wasn't marked. Most players never stumbled across it.
But Sera would. Every time.
I took the long route through the vale, cutting through dense bluegrass and avoiding the moon wolves prowling nearby. My wand hummed with passive energy from the Ember Core, and the occasional sparkle of mana drifted off my shoulders like lazy fireflies.
Aiko and Brutus were offline today, taking a break.
That was fine. This mission was solo by design.
I found the waterfall around dusk. The sound was calming, soft. Mist drifted up from the base like a veil, and just behind it, a crumbled staircase wound up toward a stone platform.
I climbed.
And there she was.
Slim build. Default mage robes. No guild tag. Sitting cross-legged on the broken altar, staring silently into the pixelated stars like she'd forgotten the whole world existed.
Her name hovered in small white font above her head:
Sera_213
I paused at the base of the stairs.
No sudden moves.
She'd bolt if I rushed.
Instead, I took a seat on a nearby rock and said, casually, "You found the altar faster than I did."
She didn't move.
Didn't answer.
But I saw the faintest flicker of attention — her camera turned slightly toward me.
I kept going. "First time I was here, I didn't even notice the orb under the platform. Spent twenty minutes casting spells at it before I realized it needed silence."
Still nothing.
Then she spoke. Softly. Quiet as wind through reeds.
"You've been here before?"
Bingo.
"In a way," I said. "I know the altar gives a passive bonus to mana regen if you solve the silence puzzle. I know the monk outside says it's unsolvable — which is a lie. I know if you cast nothing and meditate for five minutes straight, the orb unlocks."
She said nothing for a beat.
Then: "You talk too much."
I grinned. "I get that a lot."
She turned her full avatar toward me now, still sitting. Her hood cast a shadow over her face, but her eyes glowed faintly beneath — standard default mage detail. But it made her look like a ghost.
"Are you here to take it?" she asked.
"The altar?" I raised an eyebrow. "No. You can have it."
Suspicion laced her voice. "Why?"
"Because I want you."
She went still.
"…Excuse me?"
"To join my guild," I clarified, laughing. "Not anything creepy."
Her expression didn't change.
"There are no guilds yet."
"I'm making one," I said. "I've got two members already. A rogue and a tank. Now I need a mage. A real one. Not a keyboard spammer or some pyromancer who learned spells from a YouTube video."
She frowned. "How do you know I'm a real one?"
I shrugged. "Because no one else would sit on this altar for twenty minutes in silence just to unlock a passive buff no one knows about."
She stared at me.
I stared back.
Finally, she said, "I haven't decided if I'll keep playing."
I nodded. "I know."
I remembered reading an old forum post she'd left in the past timeline. She almost quit after her first group experience ended with someone calling her "dead weight" because she didn't heal them fast enough.
She never grouped again.
"I won't waste your time," I said. "I'm not asking for commitment. I'm asking for a chance."
She tilted her head. "A chance to what?"
"To show you what this game can really be. With the right people."
I stood and turned to leave.
"I'll be running the Obsidian Trial tomorrow," I said. "Duo. Just me and a tank. It's a level 9 instance with fire glyphs and memory puzzles. If you're curious, meet us at the edge of the Cinder Plateau at dawn."
She didn't respond.
Didn't even nod.
But as I walked away, I checked my friends list.
Sera_213 had added me.
That was enough.
For now.
I returned to town and updated my notebook.
Sera: located. Interest piqued. Will attend trial if motivated. Must ensure Brutus performs well — she judges people fast. No mistakes tomorrow.
The guild wasn't ready yet.
But the pieces were coming together.
And when the system finally allowed me to register the name?
I already knew what it'd be.
Oblivion Core.
A guild built from the ashes of betrayal.
Forged in secrecy.
Driven by second chances.