Regression: Reclaiming the End-Chapter 30: The PK King

Noel nodded slowly, sensing the weight behind my words. "Preparation?"

"Something like that," I muttered, fingers absently brushing the armrest.

He chuckled softly. "Yeah. Like those idiots from Brazil who tried to solo the fifth and didn’t make it."

Noel’s grin faded into something more serious when I asked, "What’s up with the Brazilians?"

He raised a brow. "Wait, you don’t know?"

I leaned forward, curious now. "I’ve been busy clearing, you know."

He let out a short exhale, a mix of disbelief and understanding. "Right. Of course you have."

There was a pause, then he sat up straighter, the casual air around him tightening.

"Well," he started, his voice a touch lower, "the Brazilian community’s in chaos right now. Two of their biggest rising names — the twins, Renan and Rafael — they were called ’The B Brothers’ online. Known for clearing early floors with brutal efficiency. Real aggressive types. Thought they could brute-force anything."

I nodded.

"They entered the Fifth Floor together," Noel continued. "But they weren’t alone. They pulled a full team — five challengers in total. Trie to stream it live too. Lot of eyes on them."

He paused, face darkening.

"They didn’t make it."

I frowned. "Wait, what?"

He nodded grimly. "Not just a failed run. They were killed inside. System confirmed it. ’Five challengers eliminated. Rift run: terminated.’ No resurrections."

A chill threaded down my spine.

"That was only a day ago," Noel said. "The whole Brazilian Rift scene is in shambles now. Their forums are flooded."

"And the B Brothers?" I asked.

Noel looked me in the eyes.

"Dead. Both of them. Twin corpses on the Fifth Floor. No one’s retrieved their gear. Hell, no one’s even reached where they fell."

Silence stretched between us for a moment, the weight of that truth settling in.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath.

"Yeah," Noel said, voice low. "The Rift’s done playing games."

Noel looked at me for a moment, as if weighing how much to tell.

Then he leaned in, voice lowering just slightly. "That’s the thing. No one’s sure."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Their stream cut off mid-fight. Clean cut. No screams, no alerts, nothing. One moment they were shouting tactics, lining up for a pincer formation against the boss—next second, silence. Black screen. Then the System Message hit: Five challengers eliminated. Rift run terminated."

I narrowed my eyes. "Could be the boss."

"Yeah, that’s what most people think," Noel said, nodding. "But then... people started digging. Rewatching the feed. Slowing it down, frame by frame. Just before the cut—there’s a flash. Not from the boss. From behind them."

My eyes sharpened. "So someone inside turned?"

Noel nodded once, slowly. "That’s the theory. Friendly fire. Betrayal. Or maybe a skill misfire, something catastrophic. Some are saying one of the team members lost control. Others are calling it murder."

I leaned back, mind working fast.

"Do we know who the other members were?"

"A few names," he said. "None confirmed. Just rumors right now. But one thing’s certain—two of them were the B Brothers. And both are dead."

I sat still, mind reeling as the name echoed in my head.

"...Wait," I said slowly, voice tighter than I meant. "Could it be... Renan and Rafael Castro?"

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Yeah—how’d you know that?"

I looked at him, but my eyes weren’t really seeing him. They were somewhere else. Somewhere before.

"Because in the previous timeline..." I murmured, "...they made it big."

Noel’s expression shifted instantly—his casual slouch gone, replaced by a sharp, alert stillness.

"What do you mean?" he asked, more carefully now.

I met his eyes, and for a moment, I debated. But this was Noel. My one anchor in both timelines. If I couldn’t trust him with the truth, then I was already alone.

"In the past," I said slowly, "Renan and Rafael survived the Fifth. They cleared it like legends. Paved the way for South America’s first major Rift faction. By the time we hit Floor Thirty, they were known as the Twin Typhoons. Ruthless. Efficient. One of the most feared strike duos out there."

Noel stared, blinking. "But now... they’re dead. Floor Five. Just like that."

I nodded grimly. "Which means something’s changed. Something big. The timeline is diverging more than I expected."

Noel leaned back in his chair, visibly shaken. "Damn. So you’re saying we just lost two of the world’s strongest players—before they even hit their prime?"

"That’s exactly what I’m saying."

The silence stretched, thick and grim.

’If even the Twin Typhoons weren’t safe... then what else had shifted under the surface of this new world? What other pillars of the past would crumble before they had a chance to rise? I need to figure this out. This is getting out of hand. Tsk.’

Noel let out a long breath, the weight of the revelation settling deep into his bones. He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze distant.

"So what you’re saying is... this world’s different. There are changes. And if the B Brothers—those monsters from the old days—are gone this early, then..." He looked me dead in the eye. "What’s stopping me from being next?"

There was no sarcasm in his tone. No bravado. Just raw honesty.

The question hung in the air like a blade, sharp and cold.

I didn’t flinch.

I leaned forward, my voice low, but resolute. "That won’t happen."

Noel scoffed faintly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You can’t know that."

"I do know," I said firmly, locking eyes with him. "Because in this timeline... I’m here. And I’m not the same person I used to be."

I tapped my chest once, slow and deliberate.

"I’ve cleared the First solo. I’ve broken the balance on the Third. I’ve triggered the Fifth’s early awakening. And I’m three floors ahead of the world right now. You think I’ll let anyone close to me die?"

He stared at me in silence.

"I’m not just surviving this Rift, Noel. I’m dominating it. I’m literally the strongest Challenger alive right now, whether the Astral Community realizes it or not."

I leaned back again, voice settling into a quiet, unshakable certainty.

"So no—you’re not dying. Not while I’m still standing."

Noel blinked. Then laughed—a short, dry chuckle. "Goddamn, you’re serious."

"As death," I said.

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head. But his posture shifted. Straighter. Steadier. That doubt behind his eyes? It didn’t vanish—but it quieted.

"...Alright then," he muttered. "Guess I’ll just have to make sure I’m worthy of being in your shadow, huh?"

I grinned. "Forget shadow. I don’t need subordinates—I need people who can stand beside me."

He met my gaze again and this time, there was fire in his own.

"Then I’ll make sure I’m that guy."