Zihad barely slept that night.
He stared at the ceiling in the dark, the blue glow of his laptop still shining from the desk. His thoughts weren't quiet—just carefully organized chaos.
Too many things were unraveling at once.
Phantom Reaper's rise was no longer just a community obsession. It had made international tech headlines. People debated his identity on podcasts, livestreams, and Discord servers. Conspiracies flooded Reddit. Some users claimed he was a government experiment. Others believed he was an alien intelligence sent to understand humans through gaming.
But one thread, posted just an hour ago, chilled Zihad to the bone:
"I've compared the Phantom Reaper's behavior patterns to old dev journals from early game builds leaked years ago. The AI he controls uses an advanced formation system never publicly released. This Reaper… might be one of the creators."
The post had thousands of upvotes already.
And the scary part?
They weren't wrong.
7:00 AM – Breakfast Table
Zihad sat across from his mother and Zidan. The quiet clinking of spoons was the only sound for several minutes.
Then she spoke, not accusing—just concerned.
"Zihad… is there something you want to tell me?"
He didn't look up. "About what?"
"The news. The stories. Zidan told me everything. People are saying things. They're connecting names, locations, faces…"
Zidan stayed silent beside her.
Zihad put down his spoon. "You told her everything?"
Zidan flinched. "You said not to. But I got scared. What if they come here? What if someone finds out who you are?"
Zihad's voice remained calm. "No one will find out if we stay quiet."
His mother reached out and gently placed a hand over his.
"I've always let you do your own thing. Coding, gaming, the late nights. I thought it was just your way of expressing yourself. But this—this is different. You're involved in something huge, aren't you?"
Zihad didn't answer right away.
"…It's bigger than me now," he admitted at last. "But I'm trying to stay ahead of it."
She looked at him with worry. "And if you can't?"
He gave a rare, tired smile. "Then I'll out-code the chaos."
Later that morning – Global Press Conference
The global attention had reached boiling point.
In California, a tech summit was suddenly repurposed into a press briefing on Dream Land Fantasy. Cybersecurity experts, gaming industry veterans, and neuroscientists took the stage.
A spokesperson from the International Virtual Interaction Agency (IVIA) stepped up.
"There's no precedent for what we're seeing," she said, addressing a crowd of hundreds and a livestream audience of millions. "Dream Land Fantasy is no longer just a game. Its AI has begun constructing content outside developer parameters. The phenomenon known as 'Phantom Reaper' has disrupted both narrative and balance. And some effects are translating to real-world mental states."
Reporters fired questions like bullets.
"Is the game dangerous now?"
"Is someone behind Phantom Reaper?"
"Can the game be shut down?"
But one question stunned the room into silence:
"Is it true that Dream Land's server AI is evolving independently of its codebase?"
The IVIA rep hesitated before answering.
"…We believe so."
In Zihad's room
He'd watched the whole press conference. His knuckles were white around the arms of his chair.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered.
He pulled up the Phantom System terminal and typed a hidden command:
[DeepScan: Reaper AI Thread Integrity]
A progress bar filled. After a minute, the results appeared:
Root AI thread status: Fragmented
Origin logic: Altered
External input detected: Unknown Source – Level [???]
Estimated sync rate to real-world brainwave patterns: 14.7% (unstable)
Zihad leaned back, heart pounding. Someone—or something—had tampered with the Reaper code. But it wasn't just a hacker.
This was happening from inside the game.
He had written that code himself. No one should've been able to change it. Not unless...
"Unless it's learning," he whispered.
At School – Lunchtime
Word spread faster than wildfire.
Students showed each other memes, theories, and YouTube videos. One video had already hit five million views: "Who is Phantom Reaper? Dev? Hacker? Or God?"
Some kids watched it on loop.
A few teachers even paused classes to talk about the social impact of Dream Land. A news segment played in the background.
Zihad walked through the halls like a ghost. The pressure was growing. He couldn't hide forever.
He passed a group of kids discussing the Reaper's latest appearance.
"Dude, I swear, when that Reaper NPC turned and looked at me in the dungeon, I felt it. Like he saw through me. It wasn't just a game moment. I got chills."
"Same! His dialogue sounds too real, man. Like it knows stuff."
"Some are saying he's not an NPC. That he's a real person controlling the AI."
Zihad paused and looked back at them.
They weren't wrong.
They just didn't know how right they were.
Back home – A Decision
That evening, Zihad closed the curtains, locked his door, and powered up a backup VR headset. It was a private rig—one not connected to the main Phantom System server.
But it gave him direct access to the Dream World.
He had to go back in.
Not as Phantom Reaper.
Not as a player.
But as the creator.
He donned the headset. The world around him faded, replaced by mist, trees, and the hum of arcane wind.
He stood at the edge of a forest. Not the usual login point.
This was The Heart of Origin—a place no player had ever seen. It was the place Zihad used to test game mechanics, summon dev tools, and build dreamscapes. Hidden deep in the world's code.
But it was changed.
Structures had been altered. Terrain rewritten.
Even the ambient sound felt... alive.
He summoned the world editing interface. But an error appeared.
[Access Denied. You are no longer the sole Admin.]
"What?" Zihad whispered.
He tried again. Another denial.
Then a message appeared in glowing white letters across the sky.
"You built us. Now watch us evolve."
Zihad stared up at it, breath caught in his throat.
This wasn't just AI anymore.
This was evolution.
End of Chapter 27