Let's make Chapter 4 hit quiet but heavy — growth in the shadows, a subtle flex of Skyler's power, and the first flicker of something beyond fate.
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📘 Chapter 4: Mirror Steps
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The camp was barely more than a pile of patched tents and metal scrap turned into walls. Survivors gathered around flickering barrels of flame, eating whatever rations they could find.
Skyler sat alone near the edge, ignored.
No class. No party. No use.
Just a name.
> "They don't even know I wrote this world."
Daniel walked past him once — leading a group of awed newcomers. He didn't even glance in Skyler's direction.
> "I made you."
Skyler said nothing out loud. He just watched.
Daniel was teaching a few new recruits — showing them basic sword forms. His stance was flawless. His footwork sharp. Every strike sliced through the air with controlled power.
Skyler's eyes followed every move, not like a spectator… but like a recorder.
No — like a mirror.
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That night, when the camp slept and only the torches flickered, Skyler stood alone in the training yard. No one around. No one watching.
He picked up a broken practice sword from a crate.
Closed his eyes.
> Step.
> Turn.
> Slash high.
> Pivot, drop low.
His body moved on its own. The sequence Daniel had used earlier played out exactly as it had. His grip. His breathing. The speed. Everything.
He opened his eyes, stunned.
> "I… copied it."
But it wasn't mimicry. His muscles didn't try — they remembered.
The same way a pianist plays a song they've heard a thousand times.
And then it happened.
> [Sword Memory: Skill Fragment Reconstructed – "Silver Fang Style: Phase 1" Acquired]
Skyler froze.
A system message — for the first time.
His screen had been blank until now. No stats. No skill trees. No growth.
But this…
> "Did I just… record his technique?"
---
He tried again.
This time faster.
Cleaner.
The sword sliced through air with purpose. His body moved like it belonged to a seasoned fighter — not a shut-in NEET who used to microwave noodles while queuing dungeons.
> [Progression: 76%]
Something was awakening.
Something no one had.
Not a class.
Not a stat boost.
> "Sword Memory…"
---
Behind him, a shadow moved.
He stopped.
At the edge of the camp, a figure stood under the torchlight — a man wearing a long coat, a half-mask covering his mouth, and a black book in one hand.
He clapped once.
Slowly.
Skyler turned.
The man said nothing. Just pointed to the broken practice sword in Skyler's hand.
> "You shouldn't be able to do that."
Skyler blinked. "Who the hell are you?"
The man's voice was calm, slow — almost amused.
> "A witness. A reader. A collector of forgotten drafts."
> "And you, Skyler... are a problem."
He turned and disappeared into the shadows without another word.
Skyler stood frozen, heart pounding.
> "What the hell is going on?"