《Apocalypse Scholar》 1.1 Trapped The alley behind the orphanage reeked of old grease, piss, and wet paper. June stood backed into a corner with nowhere to run. His shoulders hunched and arms hung limp at his sides while his eyes remained fixed on a broken patch of concrete by his feet. He didn''t cry. He never cried in front of them. That just made it worse. The concrete had five cracks. June counted them again. One-two-three-four-five. Counting was safe. Numbers didn''t hurt or yell. Sometimes they got mixed up in his head, but they never laughed at him. "Hey, fridge baby." Nolan dragged out the words like a twisted melody. "Did they leave you in one of these? That why you turned out wrong?" Jenna giggled, sharp and high. "No, dumbass. His mom dumped him at the church steps like trash. Couldn''t even stand to look at him, let alone give him a proper name." "She probably took one look and thought, ''Nope. Not raising a dumbass.''" Travis grinned like he''d delivered comedic gold. "Who could blame her?" "Bet he still dreams about them," Jenna said. "Still thinks they''re coming back. That''s how stupid he is." "Not stupid," Nolan corrected. "He''s slow. Real slow. Doesn''t talk, doesn''t think, doesn''t fight back. What do they call it now¡ªdevelopmental? No. Retarded." Their laughter swelled. June stood motionless with knuckles white against his thighs. Blood had dried along his cheek from earlier and a tear ran down the collar of his shirt. He kept his head down, still counting the cracks in the concrete. The word "retarded" made his stomach hurt. He wanted to ask them "Why?" but the word got stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth, like always. So instead, he counted again. One-two-three-four-five. Behind him was a broken refrigerator. It was rusted around the edges, its handle gone, half-buried in weeds and cigarette butts. It had been dragged from the junk lot weeks ago. No one remembered who found it first, only that it had become part of their little rituals. Its door hung open, the inside stripped of shelves. Someone had smeared a crude smiley face inside with what might have been ketchup, though it had long since turned brown. Travis stepped behind June and gave him a shove toward it. "Go on. In you go. Home sweet home." June stumbled but didn''t fall. He turned slightly, one hand half-raised, the beginnings of a word forming in his throat. The word was "no," but it came out as a soft grunt. Words betrayed him when he needed them most. "You don''t get to say no," Nolan said. Jenna grabbed his arm. Mason pushed him from behind. June tried to resist, but the hands were too many, the weight too strong. His muscles knew what to do¡ªpush back, run¡ªbut the commands from his brain came too slowly, like wading through deep water. "...Stop it, pleaseee." "It hurts!" All of them giggled as they forced him forward before bending him in half and shoving inside. June hit the back wall hard, shoulder-first, knees knocking against the floor. Before he could turn or even breathe properly, they slammed the door shut behind him. It was dark inside. Dark meant night. Night meant sleep. But June wasn''t in bed. This thought confused him. Scared, June lunged forward, slapping his palms against the door. But it didn''t budge. They must have wedged something against the handle outside. "Let me out!" He pounded until his fists hurt. "Please!" "Shut up, otherwise¡­" one of them spat, and then kicked the door. June immediately shut his mouth in fear of more beating. He was beaten at the orphanage and beaten at school. He couldn''t understand why everybody was so cruel. The concept of cruelty for entertainment was beyond his comprehension. He only knew that being different made people hurt you. He tried to think, but his thoughts wouldn''t churn, the gears of his mind hardened in molasses. Every time he tried to imagine a way out, his head seemed to hit a wall, just great white blankness where ideas should be. Clang! June flinched. The others had thrown something at the refrigerator. The sudden noise scattered what few coherent thoughts he had managed to gather. He began rocking slightly, arms wrapped around his knees, and started counting his breaths in the darkness. One-two-three-four-five. Suddenly then, a scream tore through the darkness, jolting June from his focus. Not his scream. Outside. More screams followed. All five of them now. June pressed his hands against his ears, but the sounds still reached him. Bad sounds. Hurt sounds. Different from when they laughed at him. The refrigerator also suddenly felt strange. Colder. Its wall against his back beat like a heart. Like something was awake inside the metal. "Let me out," he whispered, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. Outside, car horns blared. Lots of them. All at once. June knew car horns meant danger or anger. This many horns meant lots of danger. Lots of anger. Then the ground moved beneath him. Shook. Like when Sister Margaret had shown them pictures of earthquakes and said, "The earth is dancing." This wasn''t anything like dancing. June tried to count again. One¡ª The refrigerator jerked sideways. His head banged against something hard. The count disappeared from his mind. People were running past the alley. He could hear their feet. Fast feet. Scared feet. Some fell down. They screamed too. "Help," June called, louder this time. No one stopped. No one had the time to. The metal around him grew so cold it burned his skin. June pulled his knees tighter to his chest, making himself small. Small was safe. Small could hide. More noises came. Breaking glass. Crashing cars. Something large and heavy falling. Buildings? Trees? June didn''t know. The sounds mixed together like the paints he wasn''t allowed to use anymore after he painted the orphanage cat¡­ A new sound started. Low at first. A growl, but not from any dog or cat June had ever heard. Slowly, the darkness inside the refrigerator changed. It got darker, if that was possible. More like the darkness was thick now. Like it was touching him. June tried to remember what Sister Margaret said to do when scared. Prayer? Words wouldn''t come. Breathing? He tried. In. Out. In¡ª Something crawled across his leg. ¡°Aaaaaa,¡± June screamed. His own scream mixed with all the others outside. Too many sounds. Too loud. Too everything. The refrigerator shuddered. The growl became a voice, but not words June could understand. The darkness pressed against his skin, his ears, his closed eyes. It pushed into his nose, his mouth. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The world tilted. The refrigerator wasn''t on the ground anymore. It was falling. Or floating. Or both. June''s head felt too heavy. His thoughts scattered like marbles dropped on the floor. He tried to hold onto one, just one, but they all rolled away into corners he couldn''t reach. Finally, the noise became a wave that crashed over him, through him, drowning everything inside his head. And then, nothing. ¡­20 Years Later. :::[VOICE IN HEAD]:::
Passive Consciousness Bond Formed Preservation Cycle Completed Preserver Unit successfully neutralized via passive termination Preservation Cycle Duration: Twenty Years Preservation Unit (Fridge Monster): Expired
[First KILL REGISTERED]
Enemy Defeated Name: Preserver Unit (Dormant Sub-Dungeon Monster) Type: +++ Infected Hostile Entity Classification: Biological-Hybrid Status: Expired ¨C Internal Energy Fully Expended Cause of Death: Resource Depletion over 7,305 Days Notes: Enemy entity remained in containment mode. No aggressive actions taken. Kill registered due to sustained survival within hostile domain.
[REWARDS PROCESSED]
EXP Gained: +20 Characteristic Absorbed: Preservation Core (Diluted) Skill Unlocked: Stasis Lock, Deep Sleep Title Acquired: [Preserved] Passive Trait Acquired: [Cold-Tolerant I]
:::[June]:::
Level: 1 Class: [Unassigned] Titles: [Preserved]
[PERSONAL RADICALS]
[STR] Strength: 3 [DEX] Dexterity: 3 [VIT] Vitality: 10 [INT] Intelligence: 1 [WIS] Wisdom: 1 [WILL] Willpower: 10 [CHA] Charisma: 10 [LCK] Luck: 5
[SKILLS ACQUIRED]
[STASIS LOCK]
Generate a localized temporal stasis field (1m radius) Does not deal damage. Immune to target above [Level 3]. Duration: 3 seconds Cooldown: 60 seconds
[DEEP SLEEP] ¡ª (LOCKED)
Effect: Puts the user in a frozen recovery state. Triggered automatically in life-threatening situations. Restores 100% health. Duration: 12 hours. Currently unavailable ¡ª cooldown active from first deep sleep.
[PASSIVE CHARACTERISTIC]
Cold-Tolerant I
Base resistance to cryo-environmental conditions and low temperatures.
Cleansed Heart
Immune to ¡°Decay,¡± ¡°Rot,¡± ¡°Fungal Infection.¡±
[TITLES]
[PRESERVED] (Origin Title) ¡°You were preserved while the world changed. You are a relic in motion.¡± Immune to ¡°Decay,¡± ¡°Rot,¡± ¡°Fungal Infection.¡± +[5]+ Free Radicals
[EXPERIENCE]
Total Available EXP: +[10]+ Required for Level 2: 100
You have 10 surplus EXP available. You may allocate it to increase your level or store it for later. You have 5 Free Radicals available. You may allocate it to increase your Personal Radicals or store it for later. [VOICE IN HEAD]
The Main Consciousness is unable to take action. Distribute Free Radicals to the most beneficial radical for adaptive survival¡­...
Allocating... ¡ú +5 to [Intelligence] [INT]: 1 ¡ú 6
1.2 This Must be a Dream! An unknown phenomena enveloped the world twenty years ago. It began with strange atmospheric disturbances, auroras appearing at the equator, gravity fluctuating unpredictably, and animals fleeing en masse from seemingly empty areas. Scientists detected massive energy signatures that defied analysis, rippling across the planet''s surface in patterns that resembled neural networks. When the convergence fully manifested, reality itself bled. The rich and corrupt had left the earth six months earlier, leaving it a ghost of a shell. They had seen the warning signs before anyone else, with private research teams and classified government reports giving them advance notice. Using resources hoarded for generations, the ultra-wealthy constructed evacuation spaceships¡ªmassive, self-contained arcologies designed to operate in the upper atmosphere where the strange phenomena was weakest. They departed silently in the night, taking with them irreplaceable art, technology, and vast stores of food and medicine. Critical infrastructure failed within weeks of their exodus as automated systems went unmaintained. Cities darkened one by one, hospitals ran out of supplies, and communication networks gradually collapsed.
~ 20 years later¡­ June groaned and tried to stretch as he woke up from his long sleep. His hand accidently pushed against the refrigerator door which had rusted and weakened under harsh sun and rain. The brittle metal instantly gave way and collapsed with a harsh, echoing clank as it hit the concrete ground. The sudden noise startled June fully awake, his body jerked in surprise as his eyes flew open. But his stiff and uncoordinated limbs barely fit inside the cramped refrigerator space, and he instantly slipped out like noodles, tumbling onto the hard ground. Oouch! June rubbed his head in confusion. His last fragments of memory surfaced in his head - being pushed inside, screams, and now a strange voice speaking words he couldn''t properly understand. He wondered if someone had found him and opened the door. He pushed himself up, palms scraping against rough concrete and looked around but saw there was no one in the surroundings. However, the more June looked around the more he felt something was seriously wrong with this alley, like weed poking through cracks that hadn''t been there before. Bricks scattered where walls had crumbled. Vines snaked up the buildings. Nothing looked right. The orphanage sign on the side wall was gone. The walls that should''ve been straight now leaned in like they might collapse. Windows were shattered and doorframes warped. The world looked ruined, abandoned. June''s mouth opened and closed. Time seemed to have passed. But he had been asleep for only... only what? An Hour? His mind couldn''t grasp how the world had aged so much while he had fallen unconscious inside the broken refrigerator. At the side, Sister Margaret''s flower garden now spilled wildly across what used to be the street, roses as large as dinner plates nodding on stems thick as his wrist. An eerie gust of wind gushed through the silent streets and roads, carrying the scent of something metallic and sweet like pennies and rotting fruit mixed together. The silence pressed against his ears. No cars. No voices. No birds. There was only the whisper of that strange wind howling through empty buildings. June''s thoughts spun in confused circles. Nothing made sense. The world he knew didn''t change this fast. Buildings didn''t fall apart so quickly. Plants didn''t grow so large. His hair shouldn''t be so long. The spinning in his head made him dizzy, made him want to sit back down and close his eyes until things made sense again. A little fearful, he glanced upward... the sky was gray, not the gray of clouds but like dirty metal that had been scratched with giant claws. And there, hanging in the wounded sky, the sun burned red and angry, twice the size he remembered. He had never seen a sun like this before, a sun that seemed to watch and follow his eye moments. June was immediately scared out of his mind and sprinted toward the orphanage entrance mindlessly. The old sign that once hung above the door was missing, its absence obvious, but his thoughts never paused long enough to register it. Nightmares weren¡¯t new to him. They came and went like stray thoughts, sometimes cruel, sometimes just strange, but always forgotten by morning. So he reasoned with the little ability he had gained. It was all a bad dream bleeding into the day. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven¡­ He counted in his head, grounding himself with each step as he reached the door. His fingers hovered inches from the handle, ready to push it open.
[Hostile Entity: Doorknob(Sentient)] - Hungry] [Warning: threat level ¡ª Low]
The doorknob changed before his eyes. The metal twisted, formed a mouth with jagged teeth. A red tongue snaked out toward his hand. "Aaaa," June froze. The tongue nearly touched his wrist before he yanked back, stumbling until he hit the opposite wall. Air ripped in and out of his lungs. Sweat soaked his back. His eyes fixed on the doorknob as it clicked its metal teeth together. One-two-three-four-five¡­ Breath In. Out. In. Out. June rubbed his eyes hard to wake up, but it did little to wake him from sleep and only made his vision blurry. He thought about the strange voice again, glanced around sneakily, like someone might be watching. Maybe the bullies from earlier. But the street was still dead silent¡­ So where had the voice come from? Had it been in his head? None of it made sense, and the longer he sat there in that alley, staring at the monster that had replaced a doorknob, the more it all felt like a bad dream he couldn¡¯t shake off. He didn¡¯t notice the tears at first. They welled up slow, quiet, until they began sliding down his cheeks in thin, steady rivulets. He didn¡¯t sob. He just sat still, breathing hard, too confused to move and too scared to cry properly. But then Sister Margaret¡¯s voice floated up in the back of his mind¡ªBig boys don¡¯t cry, June. Not when the younger ones are watching. He was supposed to be fourteen this year. That had to mean something. He wiped his face roughly with the back of his sleeve and tried to sit up straighter to act stronger. Though, strength left his legs as he looked at the doorknob monster again. It really was too creepy and scary for him. Time passed slower than usual as June sat motionless on the orphanage steps, sifting through his memories. Something felt different in his head like thoughts formed with unexpected clarity and speed, connections appearing where before there had been only fog. But June didn''t notice this shift; he only knew that his mind felt less crowded, less confusing than it normally did. Then his stomach broke the silence with an angry growl. He clutched it with both hands, wincing. Food was inside, beyond the doorknob that had snapped at him with metal teeth when he''d tried to enter. The sun hung low now, bleeding red across the sky as it sank toward the horizon. If he didn''t get inside before six, Sister Margaret''s anger would descend upon him, which was far more terrifying than the bullies at school with their fists and cruel words. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. June squinted at the doorknob, his brow furrowing in concentration. This had to be another prank from the older boys. It made perfect sense in his mind. They were always finding new ways to torment him. Last month they had shoved him into the utility closet and locked the door, leaving him trapped all night with only a flickering television playing the same horror movie on repeat. He''d been found the next morning by the janitor, clothes damp with sweat and urine, eyes wide from fear and sleeplessness. The memory hardened something inside him. His fists clenched as he stood, a decision made. This doorknob must be a toy, some trick they were using to keep him outside all night in the cold. It was easier to believe that than to accept what his eyes had seen. June glanced around the alley, spotting a fist-sized rock half-buried in the dirt. He pried it loose and weighed it in his palm. The doorknobs'' metal tongue extended only a few inches from the door: a small target, but possible to hit. His first throw missed completely. The rock clattered against the wooden door frame, then fell to the steps with a dull thud. June huffed in frustration and retrieved another rock, larger this time. The second throw struck true. Instead of damaging the doorknob, however, the metal mouth opened wider and consumed the rock with a series of horrifying crunches, grinding it to powder between impossibly sharp teeth. June froze, the crunching sound sending shivers down his spine. But his conviction that this was either merely a prank or a dream prevented him from running away. Instead, he gathered his courage and searched for a larger rock, something too big for the doorknob to swallow. Straining with effort, he lifted a jagged piece of concrete that had broken off from the walkway, hoisting it above his head with trembling arms. The doorknob seemed to sense the danger, shrinking back as far as it could, but it remained fixed to the door, unable to escape. In its panic, it reverted to appearing like an ordinary doorknob, its teeth retracting into seamless metal. June didn''t hesitate. With a grunt, he hurled the concrete slab forward. It struck the doorknob squarely, snapping it clean off the door in an explosion of splinters and twisted metal. The broken knob rolled across the steps, coming to rest near June''s feet. He jumped back instinctively, afraid it might still try to bite him.
[Hostile Entity: Doorknob (Sentient)] ¨C Dead] [+2 XP Gained] [+1 Free Radical]
The strange voice echoed in his head again, clear, and impossible to ignore. It didn¡¯t come from the street or the orphanage door or some speaker hidden in the shadows. It rang from inside like someone had dropped words into the middle of his thoughts. June flinched, blinking at the empty space around him. He was sure now it wasn¡¯t coming from outside. It was in his mind. That was weirder than anything else today. He¡¯d never imagined voices before. That was more of a Nico thing. Nico, who never talked much and sometimes tried to scratch the walls until his fingers bled. Nico, who the sisters had to bind down when he got too lost in whatever world his mind took him to. Some of the kids whispered that Nico saw ghosts. Real ones. June never believed it. He didn¡¯t want to. But now he couldn¡¯t help wondering¡ªwas he hearing a ghost? Had something gotten into his head? His voice came out small, unsteady. ¡°Hello?¡± He waited, heart skipping once. ¡°¡­Are you there?¡± The silence was only short for a moment to make him doubt it. Then something flickered again, like a screen clicking on. [VOICE IN HEAD]
[12+ Available XP] [1+ Free Radical available to merge] [You may allocate EXP to increase level and Free Radical to increase personal radicals Points.] [Recommendation: Distribute Free Radicals to the most beneficial radical for adaptive survival¡­...]
¡°What?¡± June stared at nothing, his lips pressing together. None of it made any sense. XP? Radicals? Merging? He scratched the side of his head, trying to follow the strange words, but they slipped away like chalk dust. He¡¯d never been good with numbers. Books didn¡¯t like him much either. In school, the pages used to blur together and make his head pound. Even the teachers gave up after a while. So now, staring into the open air, trying to piece together whatever the voice wanted¡ªit just made his brain throb. ¡°¡­Do you want me to do something?¡± he asked, not really expecting an answer. But the voice didn¡¯t ask for permission. [VOICE IN HEAD]
[Allocating Free Radical¡­] [Radical Type Selected: Intelligence] [INT +1 | New Total: 7] [Minor neural capacity unlocked. Thoughts processing speed increased. Language center expansion initialized.]
June staggered slightly as a strange sensation rippled through his head, like pressure loosening after a long stretch of pain. His nose opened up suddenly, as if a thick, miserable cold had just broken. Air rushed in, clean and cold. The back of his head tingled, a faint burning warmth spreading across his skull like fingers tapping from the inside. But, the world didn¡¯t look different, just words lining up just a little better in his head. He blinked, sniffed, then exhaled slowly through both nostrils. ¡°¡­Weird.¡± The air felt clearer somehow. He sniffed again, deeper this time, filling his lungs like he hadn¡¯t really breathed all day. His eyes drifted down and landed on the broken doorknob lying a few feet away. Whatever had just happened in his head: XP, radicals, all that strange language slipped out of focus for a moment. That thing/monster on the ground pulled his attention. It looked so¡­ ordinary now. Just a chunk of metal, scratched and dented. No jagged teeth. No tongue. Nothing alive about it anymore. June gave the doorknob a cautious kick. It rolled a little, then clinked to a stop. Still nothing. Hesitating for a beat, he stepped closer, crouched, and picked it up. Cold against his skin. Lighter than he expected. He turned it over in his palm. Whatever had snarled and lunged at him before it was gone. If it had even been there at all. Some part of him still held back, not sure what to believe. But he stuffed the fear down, crammed it into a corner of his thoughts like a dirty shirt under a bed. Maybe this really was a dream. A strange one, but still a dream. That would explain everything: the weird voice, the mouth on the doorknob, the voice inside his head. Maybe he was still trapped in that fridge, still curled up in the dark. Maybe he was just imagining all this while waiting for Sister Margaret to come find him. She would come. She had to. The other sisters rarely noticed the kids unless they were causing problems, and June never caused problems. He barely spoke, barely moved. But Sister Margaret always seemed to see him anyway. She brought him medicine when he was sick. She made sure he got extra rice when no one was looking. She was the only one he trusted, even if she never smiled much. He hoped she was looking for him. His stomach growled again, louder this time. Whether this was a dream or not, food was still behind that door. He looked up at it worn, familiar, chipped around the edges. With the doorknob still in his hand, he reached out to push it open. Yet, the moment the door creaked inward, a cold pulse surged through his spine. [VOICE IN HEAD]
[You have entered: "Little Hope Spring Home"] [Tier II Micro-Dungeon] Classification: Emotional Residue Dungeon Construct ¨C Type: Long Stay Home] Dungeon Status: Semi-Awake Threat Level: Low¡ú Moderate
"Welcome home, little one. Remember to smile for the Matron."