Avel’s Convincing NPC Facade Avel poses as an original developer, but telltale slips expose a Kein-made NPC: the crossed‑out bee motif favored by the zubastik, obsessive concern for Kein, and his self‑sacrifice instead of exiting with the players. Despite these signs, his claim “I am not Kein’s creation; I suffered like you” feels so real that the group believes him. The credibility comes from how precisely the story mirrors human pain, blurring the line between scripted fiction and lived memory.
Tailored Adventures Forged From Players’ Memories Kein cannot grasp feelings, yet he probes minds and builds adventures from specific players’ memories and traumas. Gamigu echoes Pomni’s pilot ordeal; a baron possessed by an angel mirrors Zubi’s obsession with rejecting and rebuilding her body; a hyper‑realist quest reflects Genu’s real‑world job and despair. Avel likely continues the pattern as an NPC seeded with the still‑sane Korolyor’s memories, explaining Korolyor’s shock at hearing a name that once was his.
Broken Boundaries in Mind Manipulation Kein fears mistaking NPCs for humans and deletes them, yet he also proves capable of deeply warping a person’s mind, with Skrtch marking the first dissipation. After witnessing the damage, he imposes internal limits and a promise to stop mind‑games, hinted by the mannequin’s glance at a hot‑dog photo and the Dobi dog link to a dissipated player. A circulating but unverified screenshot ties Skrtch to that dog, a theory that fits the clues even without official confirmation. Despite the vow, Kein still uses tightly limited insights from players’ minds, because he cannot generate genuine emotions and must copy them to achieve any positive results.
Distorted Truths Behind Avel’s Claims If Avel is modeled on Korolyor, his harsh self‑assessment mirrors Korolyor’s own, and Kein avoids their meeting to prevent exposure and further harm. Avel’s description of Kein and his creations “to maintain the activity of your brains” aligns with C&A’s original purpose for the zubastik. Concrete knowledge strengthens his plausibility: he understands mechanics like the healing butterfly, while office imagery comes from different players’ memories across decades.
No Exit: An Abandoned Bid for Digital Immortality The stasis‑chamber story collapses under simple scrutiny: they connected by headsets, the CN&A office is abandoned, and no one remains to sustain bodies outside. Escape “like you” makes no sense; Korolyor recognizes it as impossible. Most likely, entrants consciously transferred their minds into the game as C&A sought to let people live forever, led by brothers Kein and Avel racing against death. Avel and his wife likely made it in, Kein died before completion, Korolyor named the AI after his fallen brother, and in the rush they overlooked the dissipation hazard.
Broken Lives In, Broken Minds Inside Kaufmo is unlikely to be a developer, since a true insider would know there is no exit and wouldn’t be obsessed with it. The others found the abandoned office and chose the circus over bullying, empty routines, cruel parents, and self‑loathing, leaving Dzheks with nothing to return to. Even here the strain persists: Dzheks nearly dissipates, haunted by Ribet and Kaufmo and a snowy‑mountain memory over hot chocolate where something happened that later unraveled them—and, by consequence, him.