Jim’s eyes open to darkness. Not the simple kind that comes from a room without windows, but a complete absence of shape or depth. Without any point of reference, Jim can’t tell if he’s standing, laying down, or even floating. The air itself feels somehow artificial, and for several seconds his only sensation is his heart pumping inside his chest.
A mechanical thunk breaks the silence. More follow in slow succession. Each one brings a floor light to life. Each light illuminates something new, each bringing on waves of fear and awe.
Seven cloaked figures stand in a wide circle around him, immense and unnaturally still. Their outlines seem to ripple at the edges, as if the light resists touching them. The cloak of the central figure has a thin silver line stitched along its cloak that glows with a faint, steady pulse, reminding Jim of a heartbeat.
He takes a quick step back, fear tightening the space behind his ribs. Something about the way their cloaks hang in perfect stillness is unnerving. A deep dread seeps into his bones, gripping him with a primal and ancient fear. Before these beings, Jim feels like a mouse before great giants.
The central figure holds out a shadowed hand. “Hold. Fear not that hand which guides you.”
The voice reaches him with even calm. The sound rolls through him and removes the panic from his thoughts. His shoulders release and his breath steadies as he drops to one knee. Then something quieter settles in. The calm feels placed there, a stillness that rests on his skin like a weight that is not his own. A strange awareness follows, and the obedience in his muscles feels borrowed. As though the thought to kneel never came from him at all.
“I greet you. I come bearing news.” His voice sounds strange to his own ears.
“Then speak,” the seven answer. The blended voices ripple through the space with a weight that presses against his chest; a command that demands his total honesty without question.
“There is a new player in Eden. They carry something unusual. Their class fits none of our expected parameters, and their ability far outstrips their rank.”
The figures turn toward one another, their movements fluid but controlled. They speak in a language without familiar rhythm or structure, more a sequence of tones than words. Jim listens without understanding, his attention pulled between the strange sounds and the weight of their presence.
Jim’s mind drifts to the rumors he’s heard about The Board. Secret leaders who wield absolute power from behind closed doors. The final authority over everything within the corporation’s walls. Management always insisted The Board were ordinary people, nothing more than executives with a flair for ceremony. Now, standing here, Jim feels that reassurance crumble. The way they watch him, it is as if they can reach inside his mind and open it like a file on a console, exposing every thought and fear he has tried to hide. The sensation is both terrifying and impossible to resist.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The deep and resonant voice pulls Jim back.
“The Board wishes to know more of this person. Where are they now?”
“I do not know,” he answers. “Somewhere in the Lethisburg Border Region.”
A figure on the left moves forward with a sudden shift that stirs a faint current of air.
“What do you mean you do not know?” The question lands with the weight of a physical blow.
Jim tries to steady his voice. “She does not have a Player ID in our system. Something blocks every attempt to trace her. Unknown class, unknown abilities, AI errors I don’t understand.”
A second figure speaks, this one with a woman’s voice that is quieter but no less authoritative.
“What do you know of this AI error?”
“Error code twelve, ma’am.”
She falls silent. The others shift their attention toward her. They speak to one another once more in hushed unfamiliar tones. The discussion is brief, but whatever she said changes the posture of several in the circle.
When she turns back to Jim, her voice has settled into a firm finality.
“This is of grave concern. The Board considers this individual a priority matter. You are promoted to Watcher. Your sole task is to track her and keep watch.”
Power surges through him at once. His senses sharpen in a clean, controlled wave. The chamber becomes painfully clear, as if someone has increased its resolution. His work shirt darkens and re-forms into layered black and red, tailored to his body in a way that feels both ceremonial and functional.
He rises with ease. The weight of The Board’s presence no longer smothers him as heavily. He can meet the shadows beneath their hoods without feeling the instinct to look away. A quiet thrill mixes with his confusion. This is the closest he has ever been to true authority.
“When I find her, what do you want me to do?”
“Watch her. Guide her path only if it is necessary. Do not interfere with her strength. You will report directly to us. You will tell no one of this assignment. Above all, do not kill her. We need this woman alive.”
Jim hesitates. “If she is not permitted death, must I act to save her if she is at risk?”
“No. If she dies of natural causes, she is not the person we seek. If she is the one, your assistance would hinder her growth. We require her to reach her full potential without your hand.”
“I understand.” He draws a steady breath. “When do I begin?”
“Now.”
The chamber softens at the edges of his vision. The figures lose definition. Jim feels his body shift locations without moving. Space seems to fold, and he slips through it with no sense of distance.
A notification appears on his interface as his body is transported to places unknown.
Watcher Quest: Find the Error
Description: An individual marked as important by The Board has entered Eden. As a newly appointed Watcher, you must locate her and ensure she follows a path toward strength. Report all activity directly to The Board. This quest cannot be refused. The future of The Eden Project depends on your success. The Board does not accept failure.
What to name the Frog?
