《Ascendant Trials》 Prologue I can still remember that day in the conference room as if I¡¯m watching it on a cracked VR headset¡ªwarped, flickering, but painfully vivid. Hard to say how much time has passed since then¡ªweeks, months, maybe years. Out here, every sunrise feels like a side quest in a cosmic trial run by a sarcastic AI, and the notion of deadlines and office politics seems almost comical. Almost. But the memory never fades: the moment we realized our bland corporate lives were about to get hijacked by something far nastier than ¡°budget cuts.¡± We were gathered under buzzing fluorescent lights, bracing ourselves for another round of Gerald¡¯s monotony. Efficiency metrics, synergy charts, the usual corporate torture. Back then, I was just another underpaid cog, trying not to nod off. Had I known we were seconds from breaking reality¡¯s fourth wall, maybe I¡¯d have appreciated that last sip of stale coffee. Then came the hum. It started as a low vibration through the floor, like a power surge they forgot to warn us about. The lights dimmed, shifting the shadows along the walls. In that instant, I saw Trevor¡¯s grin falter as if a switch got flipped, Claire tense up at the front of the table, Barry lean forward in his seat. Izzy¡¯s pen froze mid-stroke. Ned¡¯s knuckles went white. Gerald, oblivious, was about to drone on about ¡°operational synergy,¡± blissfully ignorant of what lurked beyond corporate logic.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! I remember thinking, This is it. Something¡¯s wrong. The air tasted metallic; my heart hammered with a sense of impending doom. If I¡¯d known we were about to be drafted into a system of Trials¡ªmonsters, mana, and levels rewriting the rules of existence¡ªI like to believe I¡¯d have done something brave. Or at least something more dignified than gawking, mouth half-open, waiting for Gerald¡¯s next PowerPoint slide. In hindsight, it¡¯s almost funny how clueless we all were. We thought ¡°stress¡± meant looming deadlines. We had no clue what real stress felt like¡ªnot until the System notifications blinked into view, not until we realized death might be just a failed tutorial away. One moment we were corporate drones, nodding through bullet points; the next, we were test subjects in some twisted cosmic game. I can picture my old self in that moment, still convinced the worst possible outcome was a surprise performance review. Now, standing in a reality governed by Trials, Levels, and snide System pop-ups, I want to pat that naive guy on the shoulder and say, ¡°Buddy, your definition of ¡®hard day at the office¡¯ is about to get a cosmic overhaul.¡± So yeah, that¡¯s how it started: in a dull conference room under flickering lights, lulled into complacency by color-coded charts¡ªjust before the universe slapped a user interface across reality and told us to sink or swim. Had I known half of what I do now, maybe I¡¯d have jumped out the nearest window before the hum escalated. But we never got that chance. The System had other plans, and I¡¯m here to tell you it only got weirder from there. Chapter 1: Elevator Drop I don¡¯t remember hitting the emergency button¡ªpretty sure that was Trevor. All I know is that the elevator had lurched and dropped a good foot or two, making my stomach flip like a bad carnival ride. Sparks showered the corners, and for a second, the overhead light flickered, plunging us into near-total darkness. Of course, it had to happen on a Monday. ¡°Grab that rail!¡± I hissed, fighting to stay on my feet. The entire metal box trembled around us. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear Trevor¡¯s panicked breathing. Trevor, half-dressed in his rumpled office getup, clutched the side rail for dear life. ¡°You think?¡± he gasped. ¡°Because I was gonna stand around twiddling my thumbs while this deathtrap tries to kill us!¡± ¡°Hey, sarcasm¡¯s my line,¡± I shot back, forcing a grin I didn¡¯t really feel. Above us, the fluorescent light buzzed with a pathetic hum, flickering on and off like it couldn¡¯t decide which team it was on. ¡°Could this day get any worse?¡± A metallic shriek answered, as if the universe took my question personally. The elevator jerked downward another inch, and a fresh wave of sparks danced near the control panel. My stomach twisted in raw panic. ¡°Ethan, we¡¯re¡ª¡± Trevor¡¯s voice rose in pitch, teetering on the edge of a full-blown shriek. I braced my shoulder against the wall, blinking away the bright afterimages from the sparks. ¡°We¡¯re not dead yet, Trevor.¡± He pointed shakily at the overhead panel. ¡°No lights, no floor indicator. Are we between floors? Or in freefall?¡± I swallowed hard. ¡°We dropped, but it¡¯s not moving now¡­ I think.¡± At least, not for the last few seconds, I added silently, glancing at the flickering overhead light. My heart hammered, a drumline of adrenaline echoing in my ears. Trevor fumbled with the control panel, jabbing at the ground-floor button, then the second-floor button, then anything else that looked important. Each press gave a half-hearted beep before dissolving into static. ¡°Oh, come on!¡± He clenched his teeth, slamming his palm on the emergency intercom. ¡°Hello? Anybody there?¡± A hiss of static answered, then silence. ¡°Guess we¡¯re alone.¡± My throat felt dry. ¡°We have to force the doors. Or¡ª¡± Another squeal of metal cut me off, and the elevator floor dipped just a hair. Trevor¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°Don¡¯t say ¡®or.¡¯ Let¡¯s just do it. Now.¡± Hastily, we staggered across the small compartment. The overhead light blinked out altogether, leaving us with only the dim emergency bulb that cast everything in a sickly glow. My pulse thundered. Could we drop any second? My imagination helpfully conjured the image of the elevator cable snapping outright, plummeting us three floors down in a whoosh of terror. ¡°On three,¡± I whispered, wedging my fingers into the narrow seam of the door. The metal felt cold and slightly slick, like it had been drenched in some nightmarish sweat. ¡°Ready?¡± Trevor gritted his teeth. ¡°I was born ready¡­ but I¡¯d rather be anywhere else, if that¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°One,¡± I started. ¡°Two¡­ three!¡± We heaved. At first, the doors refused to budge. A ripple of panic surged in my chest. Then, with a dull groan, the doors parted maybe an inch. A wedge of dim hallway light sliced into the darkness, a sliver of hope that made me want to sob with relief. ¡°Keep going,¡± Trevor rasped, sweat beading on his forehead. We adjusted our grips, pulling with all our might until the gap widened enough to see the corridor. The elevator was indeed stuck about a foot below the second-floor threshold. ¡°Oh thank God,¡± he breathed. We paused, panting. The metal door gave a violent shudder, like it might snap shut any second. A flicker overhead made me glance up. The emergency bulb was still on, but who knew for how long? ¡°Looks misaligned,¡± I muttered, gingerly testing the gap with my sneaker. ¡°We can climb out. Just¡ªdon¡¯t think about the elevator dropping again.¡± Trevor barked a nervous laugh. ¡°Right. I¡¯ll think happy thoughts, like Gerald giving me a raise for not dying.¡± I snorted. ¡°Gerald, giving raises? That¡¯s the funniest thing you¡¯ve said all day. Get a hand up. I¡¯ll push from below.¡± With a nod, Trevor wedged himself through the gap. The moment his torso cleared the threshold, the elevator jerked half an inch downward. He yelped, scrambling to get his leg out. My heart lurched. If the doors slammed or the box dropped further¡­ He managed to haul himself onto the corridor floor. ¡°Now you,¡± he gasped, arms outstretched, trembling with leftover adrenaline. With a shaky breath, I crouched and braced my palms on the elevator¡¯s edge. ¡°Don¡¯t let go,¡± I half-joked, voice strangled. The overhead light chose that moment to sputter again. The entire elevator shifted downward maybe another fraction of an inch. My stomach catapulted into my throat. ¡°Oh, come on!¡± I hissed, ignoring the jolt of pain in my knee as I sprang upward, half throwing myself through the gap. Trevor caught the collar of my jacket, pulling me forward with a grunt.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. I sprawled onto the corridor floor, panting like I¡¯d just run a marathon. The elevator let out a final groan, then settled with a hiss of sparks. For a few heart-pounding seconds, we just lay there, side by side, gulping air. My head spun, my arms tingled with pins and needles, and I realized how close we¡¯d come to being crunched between floors. This day, I thought, has no right to exist. ¡°You¡­ good?¡± Trevor wheezed, rolling onto his back. I nodded numbly, then forced a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m thinking an official complaint about the elevator. That¡¯s, like, an HR thing, right?¡± Trevor managed a hysterical chuckle. ¡°Sure, HR will love that. We¡¯ll fill out a synergy form, maybe do a post-mortem if we¡¯d died.¡± I let my eyes fall shut for a moment, just drinking in the fact that we were out of that metal tomb. The corridor¡¯s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. They, too, flickered¡ªless violently, but enough to keep my nerves on edge. After a few seconds, I heard footsteps approaching. ¡°Oh my gosh, you guys!¡± a voice blurted, tension thick in every syllable. I recognized Izzy¡ªthe young admin assistant who always looked like she was about to faint from stress. She skidded to a stop, eyes wide. ¡°I heard something¡ª Are you okay? The elevator¡ª¡± ¡°Alive,¡± I croaked, pushing myself upright. ¡°Barely.¡± Trevor blinked, slapping dust off his pants. ¡°We might sue the building if we survive the day, but yeah, we¡¯re okay.¡± Izzy twisted her fingers together, glancing at the half-open elevator. ¡°That¡¯s so scary. Barry went to find maintenance. Claire¡¯s trying to keep everything calm. The lights have been flickering all morning.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡± I exhaled, forcing myself to stand. My legs felt like jelly, but at least we had solid ground. ¡°Is, uh, Gerald around?¡± Izzy winced. ¡°He¡¯s complaining about ¡®operational synergy¡¯ in the conference room. He wants everyone there, now that the computers keep glitching.¡± Trevor shot me a knowing look. ¡°Told you he¡¯d reference synergy. That man¡¯s a meme.¡± I snorted softly. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯d prefer synergy over elevator death.¡± I rubbed my face, trying to banish the leftover dizziness. My mind refused to let go of that near-drop. We could¡¯ve been lumps of flesh stuck between floors. Not the best way to start Monday. ¡°He¡¯s waiting for you guys,¡± Izzy said, voice trembling with leftover adrenaline. ¡°He¡¯s in a mood.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± Trevor drawled. ¡°A mood plus an almost fatal elevator fiasco. What could possibly go wrong?¡± I fought a shiver. ¡°Lead the way, Izzy. Maybe we¡¯ll get hazard pay or something. Because I nearly¡ªholy crap, we nearly got flattened.¡± She gave a faint attempt at a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to HR. Not sure they handle this sort of thing, though.¡± As we turned to walk down the corridor, I noticed how the overhead lights continued their unholy flickering. The building felt¡­ off. My nerves jumped at every stray pop from the wiring, every shift of shadows on the floor. Maybe it¡¯s just my imagination. Or maybe there¡¯s something bigger going on. Barry appeared around the corner, broad shoulders tense. He spotted us and exhaled visibly. ¡°You made it. Good.¡± He jerked a thumb behind him. ¡°Maintenance guys are messing with the breaker box. Might take a bit to fix that elevator.¡± ¡°Understatement,¡± Trevor muttered, brushing past. ¡°I¡¯d say a bit too late, but hey, we¡¯re not corpses.¡± Barry¡¯s eyebrows pinched at that, but he said nothing. Izzy quietly explained how we¡¯d had to crawl out. Meanwhile, my eyes flicked to the windows at the end of the corridor. A heavy blanket of storm clouds pressed against the Seattle skyline, the city outside tinted with an unsettling greenish hue. Weird, I thought. They said it¡¯d just be drizzle. Did the weather decide to join the building in freaking out? ¡°All right, let¡¯s get to the conference room,¡± Barry said, turning on his heel. ¡°Gerald¡¯s losing it.¡± I forced a laugh. ¡°When is he not?¡± Trevor patted my shoulder. ¡°At least we have a story to tell, right? Elevator fiasco? That¡¯s prime water cooler gossip.¡± ¡°Sure. Too bad we might not have power for water cooler usage.¡± My voice sounded more bitter than I intended, but the near-death adrenaline was still coursing through me. We reached the conference room door. Through the frosted glass, I could see the lights flicker inside, casting jerky silhouettes across the table. Claire stood near the front, arms folded, while Gerald paced like a restless tiger. A swirl of uneasy tension clung to the air. I braced myself. Let¡¯s see. We cheated death. Now we have to endure synergy metrics. Maybe the day can¡¯t get worse. A hollow laugh echoed in my mind¡ªsome part of me suspected we hadn¡¯t seen anything yet. Izzy nudged the door open, and we shuffled in. The usual hum of the AC felt stifled, replaced by this faint electrical crackle that set my teeth on edge. Gerald zeroed in on us, annoyance etched into every line of his face. ¡°Finally,¡± he said, tapping a folder against the table. ¡°We¡¯re behind schedule, people, and these random outages are messing with everything. We need to talk about synergy goals, or the entire pipeline stalls.¡± Trevor opened his mouth to retort, but I shot him a quick glare. No sense picking a fight. I cleared my throat, ignoring the fresh wave of flickers from overhead. ¡°Elevator nearly killed us. Sorry if that¡¯s not synergy enough.¡± Gerald shook his head, exasperated. ¡°Everyone¡¯s day is disrupted. But we can¡¯t just flop around. We have metrics to discuss. Please, sit. Let¡¯s be efficient.¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± I murmured, stepping around the table. If only the building would do the same. Barry took a seat, arms crossed, while Claire offered a small nod of acknowledgment to us latecomers. Izzy hovered near the door, anxiously checking the lights. As I slid into a chair, my muscles still quivered from the elevator fiasco. The fluorescent lamps overhead gave one more harsh flicker, making my eyes water momentarily. I hope that wasn¡¯t the building¡¯s final protest. The smell of ozone lingered, an odd tang in the air. Gerald cleared his throat, launching into a speech about throughput charts and Key Performance Indicators. Classic. If I hadn¡¯t just faced potential death by elevator, I might have dozed off. But I was too wired, too attuned to every hum in the walls, every shift of the lights. Trevor shot me a sidelong look, half an eye roll, as if to say this is the real torture. I almost snickered, but the adrenaline still thrummed in my veins, overshadowed by a nagging sense that something bigger was happening. The building¡¯s flickers, the elevator meltdown, the storm outside¡ªit all felt too intense for just an electrical glitch. Gerald droned on, oblivious. ¡°¡ªand if we can¡¯t increase synergy by five percent, we risk stalling our entire Q4 projections.¡± I tapped my pen, swallowing a surge of sarcasm. Could be worse, I reminded myself. At least we¡¯re not pinned between floors. The thought barely comforted me though, because that flickering overhead was a constant reminder that reality could pull the rug out from under us at any moment. Seconds ticked by, each one feeling heavier than it should. You survived the elevator, I told myself, so you can survive a synergy meeting. But deep in my gut, the fear lingered¡ªlike we¡¯d only glimpsed the start of a much bigger meltdown. As the conference room¡¯s lights dimmed again, I caught a glimpse of Trevor scribbling a doodle in his notebook: a tiny elevator plummeting from a stormy sky. Right beneath it, he wrote in big block letters: ¡°TUESDAY MIGHT BE WORSE.¡± I almost laughed. We can¡¯t rule it out, I thought. Because if Monday started like this, the rest of the week was bound to be a cosmic punchline. And something told me the punchline was coming sooner rather than later. Chapter 2: Sky Distortions I was still rattled from the elevator fiasco. My legs felt weirdly weightless, like I¡¯d left half my nerves stuck between floors. But here I was, sitting in the stuffy conference room with the usual suspects, listening to Gerald¡¯s rant about ¡°operational synergy.¡± You¡¯d think a near-death experience might buy me a break from synergy metrics. Apparently not. ¡°¡ªand if we can¡¯t boost synergy by five percent this quarter, our throughput will stall,¡± Gerald was saying, tapping a folder against the table for emphasis. Flickering fluorescent lights cast spastic shadows across his face, making him look more intense than usual. ¡°We can¡¯t just blame the building¡¯s power surges for inefficiency.¡± Trevor sat on my right, doodling on a notepad. He angled it slightly so I could see a caricature of Gerald as a giant mouth devouring tiny stick figures labeled ¡°employees.¡± Ordinarily, that might have made me stifle a laugh, but my nerves were still on edge. The overhead lights flickered again, and I half-expected them to wink out completely. Claire, arms folded, stood near the head of the table. She was calm as ever, though tension lined her brow. Barry sat at the far end, his stoic gaze pinned on Gerald, probably counting how many times the word ¡°synergy¡± popped up. Izzy hovered by the door, biting her lip, occasionally shooting worried glances at the overhead lights. Ned was there, too, tapping his pen incessantly, eyes flicking to the hallway every time a weird noise echoed from beyond. I licked my lips, trying to ignore the aftertaste of adrenaline that still clung to my tongue. The day was just getting started, I reminded myself. If a half-broken elevator hadn¡¯t spelled doom, maybe synergy metrics would. Gerald cleared his throat, launching into another bullet point. ¡°So, we¡¯ll reorganize tasks to ensure minimal downtime. Any questions?¡± Crash! The door flew open, nearly smacking Izzy in the face. Jacob stumbled in, panting, his hair a chaotic mess. ¡°Guys,¡± he wheezed, ¡°you need to see this.¡± Gerald jerked his head up, irritation etched into every line of his features. ¡°Jacob. We¡¯re in the middle of a meeting.¡± Jacob shook his head frantically. ¡°Yeah, well, so is the entire planet. Something¡¯s happening¡ªlike, really happening.¡± He glanced around, noticing he had everyone¡¯s attention, then blurted, ¡°Weird lights outside, in the sky. Crazy news reports. It¡¯s all over the building TVs, too.¡± Trevor abandoned his doodle, eyebrows raised. ¡°Wait, wait. You mean, like¡­ more than flickering lights in here?¡± Jacob nodded, swallowing hard. ¡°Way more. The security guard downstairs had a portable TV on, and¡ªlook, it¡¯s not just this building. The sky¡¯s going nuts.¡± Gerald frowned. ¡°We do not have time for conspiracy theories. This synergy¡ª¡± ¡°Shut it, Gerald,¡± Barry said quietly, surprising everyone. ¡°Let him talk.¡± Jacob took a deep, shaky breath, then gestured at the small wall-mounted TV in the corner. ¡°Just¡ªturn that on. Please.¡± Gerald looked annoyed, but Claire stepped forward before he could object. She grabbed the remote from the table, clicked the TV on. Static greeted us first, crackling in time with the overhead flickers. Then, after a hiss of white noise, the channel stabilized into a local news broadcast. ¡°¡­continuing coverage of bizarre auroras over the Pacific Northwest¡­¡± The anchor¡¯s voice sounded equal parts professional and rattled. ¡°¡­unprecedented in color and scope. Residents report green, purple, and even orange streaks across the sky. Meanwhile, NASA confirms strange readings from orbit. Experts can¡¯t explain these anomalies¡ª¡± Trevor mouthed, orange auroras? to me, baffled. I shrugged, equally mystified. A live shot replaced the anchor: swirling ribbons of color danced across the gray Seattle skyline, ghostly and mesmerizing. The camera shook as if whoever was filming couldn¡¯t quite believe it. The news ticker at the bottom read: ¡°BREAKING: Global Weather Disturbances, Reports of Animal Panic.¡± Ned¡¯s pen tapping froze. Izzy leaned forward, eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ real?¡± Jacob let out a half-laugh, half-sob. ¡°Told you. It¡¯s on every channel. Animals are acting weird; I heard something about dogs howling at midday, birds flocking in spirals, that kind of thing.¡± Barry crossed his arms, frowning at the footage. ¡°Could be some freak solar storm, right?¡± But there was doubt in his eyes. The anchor mentioned ¡°astronaut sightings of anomalies near Earth¡¯s orbit.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Astronauts at the International Space Station report glimpses of an unidentified pattern or distortion¡ª¡± the anchor continued, voice quivering. ¡°This is purely speculative at this time, but NASA is investigating.¡± The broadcast cut to a shaky clip that looked like it¡¯d been filmed through a station window: faint lights shimmered among the stars, forming a bizarre shape too fleeting to discern. My stomach dropped. It¡¯s not just a local glitch, I realized, a chill creeping down my spine. Gerald, silent for once, glared at the TV like it had personally insulted him. ¡°This¡­ must be some hoax,¡± he muttered weakly. Claire muted the broadcast, turning back to us. ¡°We can¡¯t confirm hoax or not, but we can confirm it¡¯s bigger than our building¡¯s power surges.¡± Jacob nodded, exhaling in relief that people were finally listening. ¡°I saw the sky outside the windows downstairs. Looks like a rainbow on steroids. People in the lobby were freaking out, some saying they felt the ground hum. I¡­I had to check if you guys knew.¡± Trevor whistled low. ¡°So it¡¯s not just us or the elevator from hell. The entire world¡¯s losing it.¡± He tapped a quick message on his phone, only to frown at the screen. ¡°No signal. Great.¡± I glanced at the conference room window. It overlooked a row of office towers, usually a mundane view. But sure enough, I could see faint streaks of purplish light crossing the gloom of Seattle¡¯s sky. My heart skipped a beat, a weird mixture of awe and dread. This wasn¡¯t normal. Not by a long shot. Gerald exhaled noisily, trying to regain control of the room. ¡°All right, so¡­ we have some bizarre atmospheric phenomenon. We can¡¯t let it derail¡ª¡± ¡°Gerald,¡± Claire cut in, voice tight. ¡°Look around. The building¡¯s half-functional, the elevator nearly killed Ethan and Trevor, and now the sky¡¯s staging a freak light show. This is derailed.¡± He bristled, about to retort, but Barry rapped his knuckles on the table. ¡°We should figure out what¡¯s going on, or how to handle it if this escalates.¡± Jacob, nerves still raw, pointed at the flickering overhead lamp. ¡°What if that¡¯s connected? Like, that hum we keep hearing is part of the bigger¡­ cosmic glitch or whatever.¡± Trevor cracked a grin, but it was forced. ¡°Cosmic glitch. Now there¡¯s a synergy metric I can get behind.¡± A short, tense silence followed. Ned shifted uncomfortably, pen tapping resuming with renewed vigor. Izzy rubbed her arms, eyes flicking to the corners of the ceiling like she expected it to cave in. ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to cosmic conclusions,¡± I said, though my voice wavered. ¡°But we can¡¯t ignore the signs. Maybe we should, I don¡¯t know, plan an emergency exit or check if we can leave the building if it gets worse.¡± Gerald rolled his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s fear talking. We can¡¯t all panic. Let¡¯s stay calm and see if the anomalies pass.¡± ¡°Because ignoring the news will definitely fix the sky,¡± Trevor muttered under his breath. Claire took a steadying breath. ¡°All right. For now, let¡¯s gather updates. People can check phones, though the signal might be spotty. If this persists, we might consider letting employees go home for the day. Safety first.¡± Gerald looked like he wanted to argue but ended up just pressing his lips together in a tight line. Maybe even he sensed the uselessness of synergy metrics when the sky was turning purple. I propped an elbow on the table, my mind spinning through a dozen scenarios. Strange storms, NASA anomalies, flickering building power, that weird hum¡­ The day was shaping up to be far weirder than we realized. Jacob slumped into a chair, relief in his eyes that at least the group was taking him seriously. Izzy grabbed a notepad, pen trembling in her grip as she tried to jot down bullet points of what we¡¯d seen. Barry returned to his stoic posture, scanning the window now and then. Trevor resumed doodling, this time scribbling lightning bolts across a cartoon Earth. Ned stared at the table, eyes distant, as if he was trying to compute the probabilities of cosmic meltdown. The overhead lights dimmed again, blinking twice. A wave of dizziness washed over me. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my pulse to stay steady. Focus, Ethan. If the building¡¯s going to go nuts, you need to keep it together. It was then I felt it: a subtle thrum, deeper than the usual hum of electricity. My ears popped as though pressure shifted. I blinked away the spots in my vision, glancing around to see if anyone else noticed. Trevor, Barry, Claire¡ªthey all looked normal, albeit concerned. Jacob was fiddling with his phone. Ned stared into space. Gerald was scowling at a chart. No one seemed to feel what I did. Then I spotted it. Floating above the conference table, faint as a reflection at first¡ªa swirl of lines that defied geometry, shimmering with a translucent glow. My heart jolted. That¡¯s not a reflection. It flickered like a glitching hologram, shapes twisting in fractal patterns. An alien symbol, that was the only way to describe it. My breath caught, panic surging in my chest. I opened my mouth to say something, but the moment I tried, a spike of pain lanced through my skull, so sudden and fierce I nearly cried out. The room spun; the overhead lights seemed to warp and grow brighter, though I couldn¡¯t tell if that was real or just me losing it. No one else reacted. I glanced at Trevor¡ªhe was scribbling. Claire was flipping through phone signals. Why didn¡¯t they see the swirling lines? This can¡¯t be real, my mind sputtered. Another wave of pain smashed into me, doubling me over. I clutched the table¡¯s edge with white-knuckled fingers. The alien symbol flickered in and out, an impossibility that sent electric pulses of agony down my spine. Move, talk, something¡­ ¡°Ethan?¡± Izzy¡¯s voice, faint and muffled. I tried to straighten. Another jolt tore through my skull. My vision tunneled. My lungs fought for air. Through the haze, I noticed the symbol¡¯s final flicker. Then it vanished, leaving only that deep ache behind my eyes. No¡­no, no. My grip slackened, and the last thing I saw was Trevor¡¯s startled face, and Claire leaping to her feet. The floor rushed up to meet me as the swirling darkness swallowed my consciousness. Chapter 3: Alien Symbol I woke to a dull ache behind my eyes, a leftover echo of¡­ something. Hadn¡¯t I just fainted? My memory felt scrambled, the last few seconds a blur of swirling colors and an alien symbol. Everything was jumbled in my head, but one thing was clear: the day had gone off the rails. My vision steadied, revealing the same drab conference room I¡¯d known for too many Monday mornings. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering in a jittery dance that made the edges of the table look warped. I was slumped in my usual ergonomic chair¡ªthe one I used for countless synergy briefs. Except this time, my heart hammered like I¡¯d sprinted a mile, and a faint, metallic tang coated my tongue as though the air itself had changed. What happened? ¡°Ethan?¡± Trevor¡¯s voice cut through my daze. He stood next to me, one hand awkwardly hovering above my shoulder like he couldn¡¯t decide whether to pat my back or shake me. ¡°You, uh, sort of blacked out.¡± I blinked, clearing the fuzziness. Around the table, I saw Claire, Barry, Ned, Izzy¡­ and yes, Gerald too, frowning at me like I¡¯d just cost him a synergy point. But the usual corporate malaise was overshadowed by a weird tension that clung to the air. This isn¡¯t just me. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ good,¡± I managed, despite the throbbing in my skull. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡± Trevor exchanged an uneasy glance with Claire, then shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re not sure. You clutched your head, muttered something about ¡®integration¡¯¡ª¡± ¡°Integration?¡± I echoed, the word stirring a half-remembered echo of a System message. ¡°Right. I saw¡­ a symbol, something floating above the table, like a glitch.¡± Claire¡¯s hazel eyes narrowed. ¡°Symbol? The rest of us just saw the lights flicker. Unless you¡¯re talking about the¡­ wave of static that hit the room?¡± ¡°Could¡¯ve been static,¡± I said, but I knew that wasn¡¯t quite right. Something about it felt more alive. My scalp prickled with the memory. ¡°It was definitely more than a flicker.¡± Gerald cleared his throat, flipping through the notes on synergy metrics¡ªlike that still mattered. ¡°If we could keep personal hallucinations to a minimum, we might salvage this meeting.¡± ¡°Personal¡­?¡± I started, feeling a surge of annoyance. ¡°I literally collapsed, Gerald. A little compassion, maybe?¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°We¡¯ve all felt weird today¡ªflickering lights, shaky air conditioning, that fiasco with the elevator earlier. But deadlines remain. If we can¡¯t leverage synergy¡ª¡± ¡°Gerald,¡± Barry cut in with quiet firmness, ¡°stop.¡± The single word made Gerald snap his mouth shut, more from shock than acquiescence. Barry wasn¡¯t one for confrontation, but I sensed he¡¯d had enough. I rubbed my temples, noticing a faint heat behind my eyes. Check your phone, Ethan, I thought. Or check your illusions. But some part of me said it wasn¡¯t illusions. Something else was¡­ integrating. Suddenly, a faint chime echoed in my head¡ªlike a soft digital bell, but not external. My vision blurred for a second, and a bracketed text flickered in my mind¡¯s eye: [System Notification: Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold required. Full skill locked. Data mismatch. Potential overload risk if forcibly unlocked.] I stiffened, heart hammering. Neural Sensory Threshold? Overload risk? I risked a glance around¡ªno one else reacted. Trevor, Claire, Ned¡­ they all seemed oblivious to the silent text blazing inside my head. So it wasn¡¯t some shared hallucination. This is a me-thing.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Ethan?¡± Claire prompted, noticing the tension in my posture. ¡°I¡­¡± My voice cracked. ¡°Something. System notifications?¡± I managed weakly. ¡°System¡­ notifications?¡± Ned repeated, face growing paler by the second. He clutched his pen like a lifeline. ¡°Is that some new corporate software Gerald installed?¡± Trevor let out a shaky laugh, though his eyes stayed worried. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a synergy patch.¡± I forced a half-smile. ¡°I wish.¡± Gerald rolled his eyes, tapping the desk. ¡°Can we please get back to¡ª¡± That¡¯s when I spotted the flickers of darkness creeping along the conference room walls¡ªshadows moving in ways no normal lighting glitch should create. They stretched and recoiled, as though noticing me noticing them. My stomach knotted. The overhead fluorescent bulbs pulsed again, bathing the room in an almost strobe-like effect. The oppressive atmosphere thickened, and the tension in my skull soared. It felt like the air was alive, pushing against my eardrums. Claire saw me flinch. ¡°Ethan, you okay?¡± I was about to answer when the entire building seemed to groan, a low, resonant hum that vibrated through the floor. Water glasses on the table trembled, a faint ripple marking the surface. ¡°What is that?¡± Izzy squeaked, pressing her palm to her chest. Ned¡¯s tapping pen fell silent. Trevor leaned forward, brow furrowed. Barry rose slightly from his chair, scanning the corners as if expecting something to jump out. ¡°Some glitch in the HVAC system?¡± Gerald offered, though his voice wavered. Another wave of that hum passed through, deeper this time, rattling the overhead fixture. The intangible pressure behind my eyes surged, and I stifled a gasp. Don¡¯t black out again, Ethan. The conference room door rattled in its frame. A few scattered papers slid off the table, drifting to the floor in slow arcs. My instincts screamed This is not normal. The overhead lights flared with blinding brightness, forcing me to squint. That¡¯s when I saw them again¡ªbarely visible, swirling lines in the air, forming a half-baked symbol near the projector screen. It flickered in and out of existence, each flicker sending pain lancing through my temples. My mouth went dry. ¡°Trevor,¡± I muttered, my voice trembling. ¡°Do you see that swirl in the corner?¡± He followed my gaze, eyebrows shooting up. ¡°I¡­ see the walls warping. That normal?¡± ¡°No,¡± Claire said flatly, rising to her feet. ¡°Everyone, stay calm.¡± Her composure was admirable, but a slight tremor in her voice betrayed her own fear. Gerald¡¯s projector slides flickered wildly. The text blurred, replaced by static, then reappeared with glitchy lines. The hum built into a near-roar, and I saw Trevor clamp his hands over his ears. Suddenly, the swirl of lines solidified with a snap, forming a ragged, alien shape in midair. My heart thundered. It was so close to the earlier symbol I¡¯d glimpsed. Focus, Ethan, I told myself, ignoring the headache and focusing on not passing out. Then, with a flash of discordant light, the shape dissolved¡­ and a single new wave of pain slammed behind my eyes. Another bracketed message flared in my mind: [System Notification: Integration Protocol Adjusted. Unidentified error¡­ Neural Expansion Partial unlock in progress¡­] ¡°Neural expansion?¡± I choked out, hardly believing the words. Ned turned to me. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I¡­ I can see text. Feels like¡­ a system. Something¡¯s messing with my senses,¡± I said, sweat beading on my forehead. The fluorescent overhead responded by flickering again, and the entire room lurched like a bad roller-coaster ride. Claire grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. ¡°We need to figure out what¡¯s going on. Gerald¡ª¡± ¡°Stop panicking¡ª¡± Gerald started, though he himself was pale. ¡°We¡¯re not panicking,¡± Barry said calmly, stepping in. ¡°We¡¯re assessing.¡± In that moment, I realized the synergy talk was effectively over. Good riddance. Because the real synergy or meltdown was happening right here, with swirling lights and my insane new ¡°System notifications.¡± Another jolt rocked the building. This time, the entire set of overhead lights dimmed to near darkness, leaving only the glow of the projector and the exit sign. Shadows expanded across the table, creeping like sentient ink. My heart pounded. ¡°Something¡¯s about to¡ª¡± A violent surge of heat slammed through my skull. The symbol I¡¯d glimpsed earlier flared into focus overhead, pulsing with jagged energy. My vision doubled, tripled, everything swirling in kaleidoscopic distortion. Then the symbol exploded in a spray of shimmering particles. Before I could even gasp, the overhead lights snapped back to normal brightness, and the swirling lines vanished. My chest heaved, mind spinning from the whiplash. In the hush that followed, the entire conference room held its breath. Claire parted her lips to speak¡ªmaybe to ask if I was okay or to rally us. But nobody managed a word. Because we all knew, this was just the beginning. Chapter 4: System Reveal I came to with a dull ache pulsing behind my temples, like my brain had been dragged across gravel. My first coherent thought was: Again? I can¡¯t stay conscious for five minutes in this place. Groaning, I blinked away the spots in my vision. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered erratically, half-blinding me if I dared open my eyes too wide. ¡°Ethan,¡± a soft voice murmured nearby, ¡°can you hear me?¡± I recognized Claire¡¯s calm tone. She sounded worried. That¡¯s new. I tried to answer, but my throat felt parched, words sticking halfway down. Trevor¡¯s silhouette hovered at my side, comedic tension absent from his features. Even Barry was looming behind them, arms crossed like a silent guardian. Izzy fiddled with a first-aid kit. Ned stood a few steps away, wringing his hands. ¡°Yeah,¡± I croaked, forcing my eyes open all the way. I tried to sit up, but my head throbbed in protest. ¡°Just¡­gimme a second.¡± Trevor released a tight breath. ¡°Dude, you had us worried. One moment you were rolling your eyes at the meeting, next you were on the floor. That¡¯s more dramatic than the synergy metrics.¡± I attempted a weak laugh, my voice still shaky. ¡°They say I¡¯m allergic to ¡®synergy.¡¯¡± My attempt at humor fell flat, overshadowed by the lingering pain in my skull. The overhead flicker seemed more menacing than usual, each pulse of light accompanied by a faint hum that set my teeth on edge. Claire knelt, offering me a plastic cup of water from somewhere. ¡°Small sips. You passed out after¡­ well, something weird. You were rubbing your temples, then just collapsed.¡± I accepted the water gratefully, each swallow easing the dryness in my mouth. A memory flared: an alien symbol swirling above the conference table, partial System messages flitting across my vision. I struggled to piece it together. ¡°I, uh¡­ I saw this weird symbol floating. Did you¡ª?¡± My voice faltered. The entire room was quiet, and from the collective uneasy expressions, I guessed they¡¯d each witnessed something, but maybe not exactly what I saw. Barry cleared his throat. ¡°We all saw something, but none of us fainted. Except you.¡± His tone was neutral, not accusing. ¡°You looked like you were in pain.¡± Ned¡¯s pen tapping started up again, an anxious staccato. ¡°I-it was like the air got thicker. Or maybe that¡¯s j-just me.¡± He exhaled shakily. I braced a hand against the carpet and pushed myself upright. The room spun once, then settled. My body still felt weirdly sensitive¡ªlike every rustle of paper in the conference room grated on my nerves. Focus, Ethan. Forcing a deep breath, I scanned the area. Papers scattered across the table from our frantic reaction. The overhead slides were now dark; Gerald¡¯s precious presentation had fizzled out, probably from the building¡¯s flickering power. ¡°Where¡¯s Gerald?¡± I asked, noticing the man himself was notably absent. Izzy answered, her voice trembling. ¡°He stormed off after you collapsed. Something about a meltdown messing up his synergy talk.¡± She shook her head, clearly disapproving. ¡°But, um, he said he¡¯d be back?¡± ¡°Good riddance,¡± Trevor muttered under his breath, then turned to me. ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay? You were out for a minute or two.¡± I nodded, carefully massaging my temples. The throbbing ache subsided just enough for me to think straight. ¡°I¡¯ll survive, I think. But something¡¯s¡­ off.¡± Before I could elaborate, a sudden flicker of blue-green light danced across my peripheral vision. My breath caught, and I glanced around. The entire group tensed, collectively holding their breath. Then, as if on cue, a series of holographic panels blinked into existence in front of each person¡ªtranslucent screens floating at eye level. I jolted upright. ¡°You guys see that too, right?¡± Trevor¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°Yeah, I¡ªI have a glowing rectangle in front of me? It¡¯s like¡­ a phone screen but in midair.¡± [System Notification: Initialization in Progress¡­] floated across my own field of view, the text crisp and faintly glowing. My heart lurched. This was the same presence I¡¯d sensed earlier, the ¡°System¡± that had hammered my skull. But now it wasn¡¯t just me. Everyone else, from Claire to Barry to Izzy, had their own flickering holograms. Barry furrowed his brow at his. ¡°Is¡­ is this some new corporate VR thing?¡± Claire shook her head, eyes narrowed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like any VR I¡¯ve seen. And we can all see different panels?¡± Ned let out a shaky whimper. ¡°M-maybe it¡¯s a virus, or a data hack? Are we hacked?¡± Ding. Another line scrolled across my panel: [System Notification: Tutorial Protocol Activated. Time Remaining: 12:00]Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Tutorial protocol?¡± I muttered. My confusion was mirrored by the others, except for Trevor, who gave a half-laugh. ¡°Is that the kind of tutorial where we don¡¯t die, or¡­?¡± [Welcome to the Trials. Survival Protocol Online.] That sentence splayed across everyone¡¯s screens in big, bold text. I could hear each person reading it under their breath. My chest tightened. What Trials? If this was the same cosmic entity that blasted me with an alien symbol, we were in for a ride. Jacob¡ªwho had been lurking near the door, evidently returning from wherever he¡¯d gone¡ªlet out a startled yelp. ¡°Is¡ªanyone else¡¯s screen saying ¡®Trials¡¯?¡± Claire turned to him, her composure a hair¡¯s breadth from breaking. ¡°We all have it. So it¡¯s not just Ethan hallucinating.¡± Trevor eyed his panel, blinking. ¡°Uh, guys?¡± His usually jokey tone was subdued. ¡°Mine says: Objective: Kill 1 or More Monster(s). Time Remaining: 12:00. That¡¯s¡­ messed up.¡± My stomach sank. ¡°I see it too.¡± Because it was there, right in front of me, flickering faintly: [System Notification: Trial 1 Activated. Objective: Kill 1 or More Monster(s). Time Remaining: 12:00.] We all exchanged looks. For a moment, no one spoke. The overhead lights flickered ominously, as though reinforcing the sense that reality was about to unravel further. [Failure Condition: Slow Death.] Another line manifested, cold and unrelenting. My mouth went dry. ¡°Slow death? Are we in some twisted game?¡± Izzy swallowed hard, hugging the first-aid kit to her chest like a security blanket. ¡°Th-this can¡¯t be real,¡± she whispered. ¡°I refuse to believe it¡¯s telling me to kill something¡ª¡± Trevor tried to lighten the tension, failing spectacularly. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s an elaborate corporate team-building exercise? ¡®Go kill a monster, synergy achieved!¡¯¡± He let out a nervous laugh, which fell flat. Barry¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°We¡¯d better not take it lightly. If we all see it, then something¡¯s forcing these messages on us.¡± He looked to Claire. ¡°What do we do?¡± Claire inhaled, squaring her shoulders. ¡°First, we gather our wits. Panicking solves nothing. Second¡­¡± She turned to me. ¡°Ethan, you saw that symbol earlier, right? Did you get any info on it or something?¡± I opened my mouth to respond when a new text scrolled across my screen: [Expanded Neural Sensory Threshold ¨C Partially Active. Full Ability Locked.] I blinked. That was the same weird skill that hammered my senses earlier. My eyes darted to the System text: [Neural Overload Risk: 25% Probability. Adjusting Integration¡­] ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± I managed, voice unsteady. ¡°It¡¯s calling it Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold, but apparently it¡¯s only partially integrated. Something about me not being able to handle it fully.¡± Trevor raised an eyebrow. ¡°So you do have a special skill. Lucky you? Wait, no¡ªmaybe that¡¯s unlucky, given your meltdown.¡± I gave a half-shrug, feeling a flush of embarrassment. ¡°All I know is it nearly knocked me out cold.¡± Ned¡¯s pen tapping escalated. ¡°So¡­ we all have some sort of skill or potential skill? I see something in my panel about ¡®Locked Slot 1¡¯¡ª¡± He squinted at the air. ¡°But it¡¯s all glitchy.¡± Barry frowned at his screen. ¡°Mine says something about ¡®Attribute Points¡¯? Is this a video game?¡± A subdued hush fell over the conference room, the tension so thick I could practically taste it. The beep of the overhead projector, still half-functional, cast flickering shadows across the walls. Thud. Something shifted in the air, a heavy pulse that reverberated through my chest. I glanced around, noticing the water cups trembling on the table again. That can¡¯t be good. Claire snapped her head up. ¡°Did anyone else feel that?¡± We all nodded. The sense of wrongness from earlier multiplied tenfold. Suddenly, a swirl of dark energy coalesced in the middle of the room, near where the alien symbol had hovered. It flickered, crackling with electric-blue sparks. This was it, I realized, the meltdown I¡¯d glimpsed in those nightmarish visions. Only now, everyone else saw it too. [System Notification: Portal Forming. Threat Emergence Imminent.] A cold sweat broke out across my neck. ¡°Portal? Like a¡­ literal portal?¡± Trevor¡¯s eyes darted to me, panic creeping in. ¡°We can¡¯t handle that, right? We barely handled the building¡¯s wiring!¡± Barry stepped forward, his stance steady. ¡°Stay calm. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s coming through.¡± Izzy¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°D-do we run?¡± She clutched the first-aid kit like it was a life preserver. Jacob swallowed audibly. ¡°The timer says 12:00? That¡¯s not a lot of time, is it?¡± Gerald, reappearing in the doorway with a scowl, opened his mouth¡ªprobably to berate us or say something about synergy¡ªthen froze at the sight of the swirling vortex. His face paled, and for once, words failed him. Crack. The vortex expanded, swirling faster. My heart thundered as I recalled the ¡°Trial 1: Kill 1 or More Monster(s).¡± The instructions couldn¡¯t be more direct. The lights overhead flared in a final dramatic flicker, half the bulbs shorting out with a snap. The room dimmed, lit only by the sinister glow of that swirling darkness. My panel updated: [System Notification: Trial Commencing in 00:10. Please prepare for anomaly spawn.] A hush fell, the silence heavy and suffocating. Trevor gripped the back of a chair, Ned looked ready to hyperventilate, Barry tensed as though bracing for a fight, and Claire¡¯s eyes narrowed in determination. Gerald stood frozen, mouth agape, synergy metrics forgotten. My stomach felt like lead. This is real. A cosmic tutorial where messing up meant ¡°Slow Death.¡± Izzy let out a soft whimper. ¡°Guys, what are we supposed to do?¡± My Enhanced Neural Threshold flickered at the edges of my vision, amplifying every flicker, every hum of the flickering lights. Adrenaline spiked through me. ¡°We¡ª we gear up. Improvise weapons if we have to.¡± The words came out shaky but resolute, echoing what the System demanded: Survive. Kill. Or fail. Another faint pulse rippled from the vortex, a harbinger of what was about to emerge. Everyone stood at the cusp, eyes locked on the swirling darkness. [System Notification: Good luck. You¡¯ll need it.] The text scrolled across my hologram, dripping with sarcasm. I clenched my fists. Bring it on, then. And then, with a final electric pop, the swirling portal flared bright, painting the conference room in ghastly shadows. Claire shot me a grim nod, as if to say, We¡¯re in this together. I nodded back, ignoring the dread coiled in my gut. A single hush settled over the group, the portal spinning like a gaping wound in the air. We had no idea what waited on the other side, only that time was ticking¡ªand the System¡¯s lethal promise hung over us like a guillotine. Well, I thought, so much for a normal office day. Chapter 5: Lumic Beetles A low, resonant hum pulsed through the conference room, and the air felt charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. My heart thundered as we stood transfixed before the swirling vortex. Electric-blue sparks crackled at its edges, distorting the fluorescent lighting overhead. Claire¡¯s voice was the first to cut the oppressive silence. ¡°Get ready.¡± She glanced around, eyes calm but intense, a practiced steel behind them. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s coming, but we know it¡¯s not friendly.¡± ¡°¡®Not friendly¡¯ is an understatement,¡± Trevor mumbled, gripping the chair leg he¡¯d found earlier. He cast a worried look my way, as if mentally verifying I was steady on my feet this time. I nodded back at him, my headache only a dull throb now¡ªa small mercy from whatever partial integration I¡¯d endured. My Enhanced Neural Threshold flickered at the edges of my senses, amplifying the faint crackle of mana in the air. Barry readied his stance, a sturdy metal rod clenched in his fists. Izzy hovered behind him, eyes darting nervously between the portal and the exit, clutching that battered first-aid kit like it was a lucky charm. Ned had grabbed a battered file cabinet drawer as a makeshift shield, his face pale with dread. Even Gerald, typically bristling with synergy talk, lingered near the corner, anxious energy radiating off him. Jacob edged closer to Trevor, whispering, ¡°Any chance we can shut that thing off with a breaker switch or something?¡± Trevor grimaced. ¡°Doubt it. Unless you see a big off-button labeled Eldritch Portal.¡± Whoosh. The vortex roiled, and a swirl of shadow and light coalesced at its center. My stomach dropped. Here we go. [System Notification: Enemy Spawn Imminent. Time Remaining: 11:50] ¡°Enemy spawn,¡± I muttered, reading the line across my holographic panel. ¡°That¡¯s so¡­ direct.¡± Barry grunted. ¡°Direct or not, we handle it.¡± A final surge of energy flickered. The swirling dark parted like a curtain, and from its depths, a small, crystalline shape darted out¡ªthen another, then half a dozen more. My jaw clenched as I recognized them from the partial data I¡¯d seen. Lumic Beetles. Tiny, menacing things about the size of a housecat. Their shells sparkled with an otherworldly sheen, each movement accompanied by a faint clicking of serrated mandibles. They spread out across the conference room¡¯s carpet, scuttling at alarming speed. ¡°Those¡­ are bugs?¡± Ned¡¯s voice rose, pen tapping forgotten. ¡°Crystalline¡­ bugs?¡± [System Notification: Enemy Identified¡ªLumic Beetle (Level 1). Threat Level: Low. Role: Harasser.] A beep chimed, and I glimpsed the System panel: Lumic Beetle (Level 1, Common) HP: 10/10 Description: Small, agile scavengers equipped with a defensive flash ability. They rely on bursts of blinding light to disorient prey. Trevor forced a grin. ¡°They¡¯re basically cockroaches on steroids. Great.¡± The beetles hissed, scattering across the floor in erratic patterns. One lunged toward Barry, mandibles snapping. He swung his metal rod with brutal efficiency, smashing the creature aside. The impact sent it skidding across the carpet, shell cracking under the blow. Another lunged at me. I swung my chair leg¡ªa battered chunk of wood from a prior meltdown¡ªand connected with a thud. My heart pounded, adrenaline surging as the creature let out a shrill click. [Enemy HP: 4/10. Finish the job, newbie!] the System snarked in my mind. ¡°Newbie?¡± I growled under my breath, swinging again. The beetle shattered, dissolving into a small burst of glowing particles that rained down like digital confetti. [Enemy Defeated: Lumic Beetle. XP: +1. XP Progress to Level 2: 1/2 XP.] [Notification: Loot Extraction in Progress¡­] [Loot Acquired: 1 Copper Coin. Congratulations, you¡¯re marginally less broke!] I shot a glance around the room. ¡°Focus! They¡¯re small, but fast.¡± Barry had already slammed his rod into another beetle, which dissolved in a flash of faintly glowing shards. Claire snatched up a fallen chair leg for herself, her posture unwavering. She smashed a beetle in one swift motion, its shell cracking with a loud pop. Flash! A sudden burst of light erupted from the beetle near Ned, forcing him to stumble back, blinking spots out of his eyes. Izzy let out a shriek, trying to help him up. A second beetle scuttled forward, claws aiming for Ned¡¯s ankles. I lunged, heart in my throat, slamming the chair leg down. The impact jarred my arms, but the beetle squealed, HP bar flickering to zero. It dissolved into a swirl of lights. Ned exhaled shakily, gratitude flooding his features. ¡°Th-thanks, Ethan,¡± he mumbled, adjusting his makeshift shield. Trevor, on the other side of the room, took a swing with a mop handle he must¡¯ve scavenged, abandoning his chair leg. ¡°Of all weapons,¡± he muttered, catching a beetle mid-lunge. The creature reeled, mandibles clacking. Trevor let out a semi-hysterical laugh. ¡°Guess corporate housekeeping skills are the real synergy.¡± Ding! A shared System note scrolled across my vision: [System Notification: Team Efficiency Up! Group synergy detected. Party bonus activated.] ¡°Party bonus?¡± Izzy repeated, blinking. She still clutched the first-aid kit, but at least she wasn¡¯t paralyzed with fear. ¡°Are we¡­ a party?¡± Trevor¡¯s grin turned wry. ¡°If this is a party, the theme is Trauma in the Office.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Claire, dispatching a wounded beetle in front of her, offered a short nod. ¡°We¡¯ll take any advantage. If synergy is what it calls it, so be it.¡± Then she barked, ¡°Stick together. Don¡¯t let them single anyone out.¡± We pressed the advantage, moving in a rough semicircle. Barry led from the left, I covered the center with Trevor, and Claire took the right flank with Ned and Izzy behind her. Jacob hovered near Ned, trying to wave away a particularly insistent beetle with a bent piece of metal. Gerald, ironically, found himself behind me, brandishing a snapped conference table leg in stiff terror. He looked like he was having an existential crisis¡ªthis was definitely not the synergy metric he¡¯d had in mind. Another wave of bright flashes danced across the room¡ªbeetles unleashing their defensive bursts. My Enhanced Neural Threshold flared, making the sudden brilliance borderline painful. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the jab of headache. Focus, Ethan. Survive first, whine later. Trevor said, ¡°At least I can spin it on my resume: ¡®Monster Disposal. Killed corporate beetles with a mop.¡¯¡± Ned tried to maintain composure, though his face was pale. Izzy rushed to hand him a bandage for a minor scratch he got. Barry, calm as ever, dispatched another beetle with a brutal side-swing. ¡°We can handle this,¡± he muttered, more to himself than anyone. Crack, smash, glow. One by one, the Lumic creatures fell, dissolving into fragments of light. The System notifications flickered in and out of my peripheral vision: [Enemy Defeated: +1 XP. XP Progress: 2/2. Level Up Locked. Awaiting System Access.] [Loot Acquired: 1 Copper Coin. You¡¯re welcome!] Wait¡ªdid that say Level Up? My heart jolted. I can level up? Like in a game? A swirl of new excitement warred with the immediate danger. My arms trembled as the last Lumic Beetle disintegrated into glowing shards, leaving behind only faint motes of light that vanished almost as quickly as they appeared. The conference room fell eerily silent, the only sound our ragged breathing and the subdued crackle of the overhead lamps. A few chairs lay overturned, and papers were scattered everywhere, the once-sterile corporate environment now looking like a chaotic battlefield. Trevor let out a shaky laugh, leaning on his dented mop handle. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we just fought¡­ bugs from a portal. This is the weirdest office day ever.¡± Claire stood nearby, still gripping the makeshift club she had salvaged. Her knuckles were white against the worn wood, tension still radiating through her posture. She surveyed the motionless portal at the center of the room, its swirling darkness flickering with faint energy. The System notifications had subsided for the moment, leaving us in a wary lull. Izzy knelt next to the scattered first-aid supplies she had dropped, her hands shaking as she rummaged for gauze and disinfectant. She darted glances at each of us, as if double-checking we were alive and well. Ned hovered behind her, face pale, clutching the battered file cabinet drawer he had used as a shield. Barry lowered his own improvised weapon¡ªa heavy metal rod that had splintered one too many beetle shells. He stepped forward, scanning the room with methodical calm. ¡°No more movement,¡± he said quietly. ¡°That wave¡¯s done.¡± I pushed a strand of hair off my forehead, still catching my breath. My senses were overstimulated, as though the whole room thrummed with leftover tension. That partial skill¡ªwhatever the System had forced on me earlier¡ªcontinued to buzz at the edges of my mind, but it no longer threatened to knock me out cold. Jacob took a hesitant step away from the corner where he had taken cover. ¡°So¡­ we actually did it? Does that mean we¡¯re free now?¡± His voice quavered, betraying the fear he was trying to hide. Trevor shook his head, exhaling loudly. ¡°No clue. The System said something about a trial. It¡¯s probably not satisfied with us just surviving this wave.¡± Gerald, who had cowered by the door through most of the fight, gathered himself and cleared his throat. He looked like he wanted to deliver a speech about synergy again, but the gravity of the situation kept him silent. Instead, he glanced uneasily at the flickering portal and shook his head as though he still believed it was some elaborate hoax. Claire finally relaxed her grip on the chair leg. ¡°We need to regroup,¡± she said. ¡°Check if anyone¡¯s injured. Then figure out if this is really over¡­ or just a pause.¡± She turned her gaze on Izzy. ¡°How is everyone holding up?¡± Izzy¡¯s eyes darted to each of us in turn. ¡°I¡ªI think everyone¡¯s okay. Some minor cuts and bruises, but nothing severe.¡± She offered a nervous smile, as if trying to reassure herself as much as us. ¡°I can patch those up.¡± I swallowed, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. ¡°We need a plan if that portal acts up again,¡± I said, my voice a little steadier than before. ¡°Any second wave might not be so easy.¡± Trevor nodded, tapping his mop handle against the carpet. ¡°We barely knew what we were doing this time. And that was just¡­ bugs.¡± Barry pressed his lips together grimly. ¡°Bugs that nearly took Ned¡¯s legs off.¡± Ned managed a weak chuckle, still pale. ¡°I guess a file drawer shield is better than nothing. But I¡¯d rather not do that again.¡± A dull hum rippled through the air once more, drawing our attention back to the portal. Its swirling darkness pulsed faintly, as though gathering strength. My stomach sank at the sight. We had only just caught our breath, and already the sense of foreboding crept up my spine. Izzy shot upright, eyes wide. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s glowing again.¡± She was right. The flickers of light along the portal¡¯s edges were intensifying, the shadows in the room bending in unnatural ways. The entire conference room felt heavier, as if gravity had shifted to a higher setting. Gerald let out a frustrated huff. ¡°We can¡¯t possibly fight another horde. This is insane.¡± His earlier bluster was gone, replaced by a shaky tone of desperation. ¡°We should escape¡­ or find security, or¡ªsomeone must fix this!¡± Claire turned to him, her expression unwavering. ¡°Running won¡¯t help if the System is controlling the whole building. Did you see how it twisted the lights? How it spawned monsters out of thin air?¡± She exhaled, then faced the rest of us. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to panic. If there¡¯s a second wave, we need to be ready.¡± Trevor forced a half-smile, though it held no real humor. ¡°At least we got a little synergy bonus, huh?¡± ¡°No thanks to Gerald,¡± Barry muttered under his breath, but he left it at that. He eyed the portal like a coiled snake, waiting to strike. Ned let out a shaky breath, pen tapping at his side. ¡°I¡ªI can¡¯t do this again,¡± he whispered, though he kept the makeshift shield close. ¡°But what choice do we have?¡± Jacob squared his shoulders, still trembling. ¡°I guess¡­ we do the same thing. Fight if we have to.¡± I swallowed hard, my pulse drumming in my ears. The overhead lights flickered once more, the battered chairs and scattered papers a silent reminder of our first battle. I tightened my grip on the broken chair leg that had become my weapon. We survived the first wave, I told myself, maybe we can survive the next¡­ The swirling darkness of the portal flared suddenly, sending a jagged arc of energy snapping across the floor. Sparks danced around the circumference, and my heart lodged in my throat. The static charge in the air prickled my skin, a warning that the calm between storms was over. Claire lifted her makeshift club. ¡°Positions,¡± she ordered, voice brimming with resolve. We had no illusions of safety now. We formed a loose half-circle once again, each of us braced for the unimaginable. I caught Trevor¡¯s eye, and he nodded back, the faint flicker of his usual humor gone. Izzy looked like she was on the verge of tears but stood firm behind Barry, her first-aid kit clutched against her chest. Ned gripped his dented file drawer, tension humming through his rigid stance. Gerald hovered near the wall, anxiety pouring off him in waves. And Jacob¡­ well, at least he stood with us, fear and determination wrestling in his gaze. As the portal pulsed again, a cold chill seeped into the room. My breath felt heavy in my lungs. One last look at the flickering overhead lights told me all I needed to know: this was no glitch. The System had us, and it wouldn¡¯t let us go so easily. Another surge of energy rippled through the portal, warping the very air around it. My chair leg felt woefully inadequate, but I refused to back down. We had no choice but to face whatever emerged. The conference room lights dimmed a final time, casting long, distorted shadows on the floor. I heard the distant hum of static, like a silent countdown we couldn¡¯t stop. Time seemed to hold its breath, every second stretching unbearably. Then the portal flared, a wave of force rolling outward. I tensed, heart hammering, and saw everyone else do the same. We had no idea what fresh nightmare would burst through next¡ªbut we were trapped, bound by the System¡¯s trial and that merciless clock ticking down our fate. If this was the future of synergy, I thought grimly, we were about to find out just how far from ordinary our lives had become. And we had only seconds to brace ourselves for a new assault. Whatever happens next, none of us can pretend this is just another Monday. Chapter 6 - Jacob’s Fatal Flight
The fluorescent lights continued their erratic flicker, bathing the conference room in broken intervals of pale, stuttering illumination. I stood near the center of the half-ruined space, panting quietly while gripping the battered chair leg I¡¯d claimed in the first wave. Trevor was beside me, his mop handle nicked and dented from smacking more Lumic Beetles than should be legally required in any office job.
The portal still roiled with dark energy at the far end of the room, casting everything in an unearthly glow. An uneasy hush had taken hold of us all. The last wave of our fight ended on that tense note: a swirl of crackling static from the portal, a faint hum that set every nerve on edge, and the System¡¯s not-so-subtle hint that more was coming.
It looked like ¡°more¡± had finally arrived.
Claire paced near the portal, her gaze level but undeniably anxious. Barry kept himself anchored nearby, arms flexing around a new makeshift weapon: a thicker metal rod from the broken table. Ned hovered in the background, hugging a scuffed file drawer to his chest like a shield, while Izzy clutched the first-aid kit. Gerald was a few steps behind me, silent and watchful, as if deciding whether to sprint or pretend unwavering confidence.
Jacob stood off to my left, his expression taut with an apprehension I hadn¡¯t seen from him before. He had been oddly calm at first¡ªmaybe in denial¡ªbut as soon as the portal started to crackle with renewed life, his face fell. Now, tension radiated off him in waves.
I tried to slow my breathing, but the air felt thick with dread. I glanced at Trevor, who must have caught my eye, because he managed a shaky grin. ¡°So, boss,¡± he murmured, ¡°you think we get hazard pay for round two?¡±
Before I could respond, a fresh surge of energy hissed from the vortex. Bolts of greenish light danced across the swirling darkness, and the entire conference room seemed to vibrate under our feet. We all braced. There was no waiting for calm this time; the second wave had arrived.
The portal¡¯s swirling gloom warped, then spat out over half a dozen Lumic Beetles in rapid succession. My stomach tightened. This wave was bigger¡ªeight, nine, ten? I could barely keep count as more of them scuttled out, each one clicking with that eerie, crystalline rattle.
¡°Positions!¡± Claire barked, her voice cutting through the rising panic. ¡°Don¡¯t let them break our formation.¡± She glanced around swiftly. ¡°Barry, left flank. Ethan, center. Trevor, right. Ned, Izzy¡ªstay back unless you see an opening to help. Gerald¡ª¡±
She paused, noticing Gerald had taken a wary step behind me. He looked paler than usual, sweat glistening on his brow. The mention of his name caused him to straighten. ¡°Yes?¡± he managed, swallowing hard.
¡°Be ready to fight,¡± she finished, eyeing the wave of beetles that scurried closer. ¡°We need every hand.¡±
The Lumic Beetles advanced in a disconcerting line, their crystalline shells reflecting the stuttering light in shifting patterns. I could practically feel Jacob¡¯s growing terror at my side. Earlier, he¡¯d handled the tension better¡ªmaybe it was denial, maybe less direct involvement. But now, confronted with a horde that looked larger, more relentless, he was trembling like a man on the edge of a cliff.
¡°We can take them,¡± Barry said, his voice a low rumble. ¡°Just stay calm.¡±
I exhaled, nodding. ¡°Yeah, calm. Easier said than done.¡± My heart pounded against my ribs, but I tightened my grip on the chair leg. The memory of having survived the first wave lent me a shred of confidence.
Trevor stood to my right, mop handle raised with a forced grin on his face. ¡°Round two, fight,¡± he muttered like a ring announcer. Then he flinched as the first Beetle lunged, mandibles snapping.
I swung out of pure reflex, catching one of the advancing Beetles in its glimmering shell. The impact jostled my arms, but I kept my footing. The creature skittered sideways, hissing in that unnerving, high-pitched tone.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
A burst of bright light flared from another Beetle across the room¡ªone of their defensive flashes. I heard Ned yelp in alarm as his vision was momentarily seared. Izzy grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him aside before a second Beetle could pounce.
Barry slammed his rod against a beetle¡¯s shell, cracking it with ruthless efficiency. He moved with calculated force, every swing purposeful. I could see his eyes flicker over before his face¡ªno doubt the System awarding him XP again. Meanwhile, Trevor took a wide defensive stance, batting away a creeping Beetle that came too close to his ankles.
¡°Gerald, watch out!¡± I shouted, spotting a Beetle skirting around the edge of the fight, heading straight for him. Gerald stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a discarded metal rod. The Beetle hissed, lunging for his leg.
Gerald let out a startled curse and flailed the short chair leg in his hand. By sheer dumb luck¡ªmaybe reflex, maybe panic¡ªhe connected with the Beetle¡¯s midsection. The shell cracked, and the creature collapsed in a brief glimmer of fractal light. Gerald froze, eyes wide as the Beetle disintegrated. He stared at the dust and then at the makeshift weapon, disbelief etched into every line of his face.
He had actually killed one.
Barry, pivoting away from his own downed foe, caught Gerald¡¯s eyes and gave a curt nod. ¡°Good work,¡± he said under his breath.
Gerald, still tense, muttered something like ¡°Yeah¡­ synergy,¡± but the fear never left his expression.
In the midst of the chaos, I caught sight of Jacob hovering near the door, eyes darting frantically between us and the swarm. Another flash from a Beetle pulsed, causing him to shield his face. Two more Beetles skittered close, forcing me to dash forward and intercept them. My makeshift weapon slammed into the first, staggering it. The second hissed, snapping at my heels, but a swift kick sent it reeling.
Jacob shouted, ¡°I can¡¯t do this!¡± His voice cracked, raw with terror. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡±
He backpedaled, narrowly avoiding a Beetle that zipped past. He nearly collided with Ned, who was half-blinded from that earlier flash. A wave of pity surged through me; Jacob had seemed steady before, but maybe he was never truly okay. The savage reality of this second wave had finally shredded his denial.
¡°We¡¯re going to survive,¡± Claire called out, her voice carrying over the Beetles¡¯ clicks. She was busy fending off a pair with lethal precision, splintering shells under crisp blows. But even she looked worried, eyes flicking to Jacob. ¡°Stay with us, Jacob.¡±
He shook his head violently, choking on a sob. ¡°No¡­ no. This is¡ªthis is insane. I have to get out. I¡¯m not dying in here!¡±
I saw the moment he decided. The fear twisted his features, and he bolted, pushing away from the main cluster of us. His sudden movement drew the attention of three Beetles, their antennae swiveling as if sensing weaker prey.
¡°Jacob!¡± I shouted. My protest was lost in the clash of chitin and weapons.
Jacob broke into a frantic run, heading for the corridor doors. The Beetles pursued him in a coordinated flurry of glimmering shells and snapping mandibles. One scuttled across the floor with alarming speed, closing in on his retreating ankles.
¡°Don¡¯t¡ª!¡± Claire yelled, her voice laced with both command and desperation. She tried to break free from the melee to intercept, but a lunging Beetle blocked her path.
Barry swung his rod to clear a route, but the press of the swarm was too thick. Trevor, panting, tried to angle himself toward Jacob, only to be forced back by another frenzied Beetle rearing up.
Jacob slammed against the heavy conference room door, throwing it open in a panic. He glanced back, eyes filled with sheer terror. I caught a glimpse of him mouthing something¡ªmaybe sorry or help¡ªbefore he tumbled out into the hallway. A wave of Beetles followed, their crystalline shells gleaming under the corridor¡¯s fluorescent lights.
My heart lurched. He was heading directly into the open corridor, alone, with a cluster of monstrous insects on his heels. No matter how dire it was in here, it had to be worse alone out there.
¡°Jacob!¡± I roared, legs already moving. But it was too late to stop him.
The door slammed shut behind him. The last we saw was a swirl of small but deadly forms hurtling after him in a macabre chase. The sound of his frantic footsteps echoed for an instant, then melded with the snapping, chittering noise of Beetles in pursuit.
A chill settled in my gut. We had told him to stick with us, that we¡¯d fight together. Instead, fear had made his choice. And as the corridor devoured him, I could only hope he wouldn¡¯t pay the ultimate price for that split-second decision.
I braced myself, hearing Claire shout orders behind me, hearing Trevor grunt as he battered another creeping Beetle. Part of me wanted to sprint after Jacob, but the fight still raged here. My knuckles tightened around the chair leg, sweat dripping into my eyes. Why, Jacob?
A harsh luminescent flash exploded from a nearby Beetle, forcing me to shield my face. By the time the spots faded from my vision, Jacob was gone.
We were left with a final horrifying thought: the corridor was no safer than this room. And we all knew how quickly these Trials punished inaction¡ªor in Jacob¡¯s case, a desperate flight. Chapter 7 - Aftershock and Access
I burst through the conference room doors in pursuit, my lungs stinging from the lingering disinfectant smell and the metallic tang of mana. My heart thundered at the sight unfolding in the corridor: Jacob¡¯s frantic silhouette stumbled on the gray carpet, and a pack of Lumic Beetles surged after him. Their crystalline shells flashed in the corridor¡¯s dull overhead light, menacing shards clicking in unnerving rhythm.
He wasn¡¯t far ahead, just a dozen paces away¡ªbut panic had consumed him. He kept glancing back, eyes wild with terror, barely watching where he was going.
Jacob, no¡­
¡°Jacob!¡± I shouted, my voice echoing in the narrow hallway. My own footsteps slapped against the carpet as I tried to close the distance. Behind me, I heard Barry, Claire, and Trevor spill out of the conference room. Ned and Izzy lingered by the door, grappling with the last of the Beetles still inside.
One of the Lumic Beetles flashed a blinding burst of light. My retinas flared, spots dancing in my vision. I threw up my arm to shield my face, hearing Jacob let out a choked cry. By the time the glare subsided, I caught a glimpse of him staggering to the side, disoriented. Another Beetle skittered underfoot, hooking its serrated mandibles around his ankle.
He tumbled forward, arms flailing as he tried to shake it off.
¡°Stop¡ªget off me!¡± His voice cracked, raw with desperation.
My Enhanced Neural Threshold hammered at my senses, every sound magnified into a disorienting cacophony: his ragged breathing, the scrabble of chitinous legs, the distant hum of the building¡¯s failing lights. Still, I pushed forward, forcing my body to override the sensory overload. I swung my makeshift chair leg in a desperate arc, managing to smack one Beetle off his calf¡ªbut another latched on immediately.
A second wave of light erupted from a Beetle, forcing me to blink away the searing glare. Jacob¡¯s scream tore through the corridor. Even half-blinded, I heard the dreadful wet sound of mandibles meeting flesh. My vision cleared in time to see him collapse to his knees, his body convulsing as multiple Beetles swarmed around him, mandibles snapping.
¡°Jacob!¡± Trevor was behind me, voice choked with horror. He brandished his mop handle but couldn¡¯t find a clear angle past me. Barry sidestepped, trying to push in from the other side. Claire slipped forward, weapon raised. The hallway was too narrow, the Beetles moving too fast.
A lumic flash disoriented me once more, leaving ghostly afterimages swirling in my sight. By the time I regained focus, the corridor was spattered with crimson. One Beetle had severed Jacob¡¯s leg in a grisly, surgical motion. Another impaled him through the chest, its crystalline carapace gleaming with lethal precision.
His eyes widened¡ªfrozen in sheer terror¡ªbefore life flickered out of them. The corridor lights sputtered, as though even the building recoiled from the carnage. Claire and I lunged in, smashing at the Beetles surrounding him. My chair leg connected with one, sending it skidding against the wall where it dissolved in a shimmer of particles. Barry battered another until it cracked under repeated blows.
My arms trembled, adrenaline surging in a nauseating wave. We killed or chased off the last few Beetles around his body, but too late. Jacob lay on the floor, eyes wide, unmoving. His clothes were a shredded, bloody mess.
Izzy, who had followed with Ned once the conference room was momentarily clear, caught sight of the scene and collapsed to her knees, tears spilling down her face. ¡°No¡­ no, no, no!¡± Her sobs echoed in the corridor. Barry placed a steady hand on her shoulder, his expression grim.
Trevor¡¯s usual humor vanished; he just stared, mouth half-open, as if words failed him. Ned stood behind him, face ashen, the pen he always fidgeted with forgotten at his side.
Claire¡¯s gaze hardened as she breathed out, ¡°Jacob¡­¡± She looked away for a moment, swallowing back the horror. Then she exhaled, her voice firm despite the strain. ¡°We need to secure the area and prevent more deaths. Trevor, help me with¡ª with him. Izzy, stay close to Barry. Ned, watch our flank.¡±
Trevor nodded, though he moved stiffly, as if each step cost him effort. He and Claire carefully dragged Jacob¡¯s lifeless form toward the corridor wall, away from the portal¡¯s line of sight. Blood trailed in a jagged line across the carpet, a haunting reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. I resisted the urge to retch.
A hush settled, broken only by Izzy¡¯s quiet sobs and the distant hum of flickering lights. My chest felt tight. I couldn¡¯t look at Jacob¡¯s body for longer than a second without nausea climbing my throat. The same thought echoed in my mind: This is the cost of inaction. He panicked, we hesitated, and now we¡¯d lost one of our own.
A holographic panel flickered across my vision, the System¡¯s snark jarringly out of place:
[Participant Eliminated: 1. Remaining: 7. Cause of Death: Lumic Beetle (Level 1, Common).]
I gritted my teeth, fighting a wave of anger. The System kept track of our deaths like bullet points on a performance review. Even Trevor¡¯s attempts at sarcastic commentary died in his throat. The group stared at the text, equally disturbed.
¡°He¡¯s¡­ gone,¡± Izzy whispered, voice trembling with shock. She curled into herself, tears streaming. Barry stayed by her side, a silent sentinel, though his fists were clenched white-knuckled around his metal rod.
Claire took a breath, forcing composure. ¡°We have to stay focused. We can¡¯t change what happened, but we can make sure it doesn¡¯t happen again.¡±
Ned, still visibly shaking, managed to speak. ¡°Th-this can¡¯t be real. We can¡¯t let that¡ª¡± He gestured weakly at Jacob¡¯s body. ¡°¡ªhappen again.¡±
I swallowed hard, forcing calm. ¡°We¡­ we survived wave two, right?¡± My voice sounded hollow to my own ears. ¡°Is that it? Are we free?¡±
As if in response, the portal in the conference room behind us began to sputter, its swirling darkness fluctuating between expansions and contractions. A fresh notification blinked into my field of view:
[Trial 1 Progressing. Time Remaining: 4:30. Objective Met: Kill 1 or More Monster(s). Waves cleared. Finalizing¡­]
Trevor huffed out a shaky laugh. ¡°We completed the objective. But the clock still says four and a half minutes?¡±
Claire straightened, scanning the corridor for any lurking threats. ¡°It might be tying up loose ends. Or waiting to see if we¡¯re still in danger.¡±
Gerald, who stood behind us with the makeshift club in his grip, let out a heavy breath. ¡°So¡­ does that mean we passed the trial?¡± He glanced at the battered door leading into the conference room, then down at the remains of the Beetle he¡¯d killed. ¡°I guess I¡ª I did kill one. Is that enough to survive?¡± His voice trembled with equal parts relief and guilt.
Before Claire could respond, a final notification flickered into sight:
[Trial 1 Complete. System Access Granted to Participants Who Eliminated Hostiles. (Ethan, Barry, Trevor, Gerald, Claire). Remaining Participants: 7.]This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
[Ned: No Hostile Kills. Access Denied. Izzy: No Hostile Kills. Access Denied.]
A wave of tension rippled through the group, each name reading their panel. Ned¡¯s face fell. ¡°Access¡­ denied?¡± Izzy fidgeted uncomfortably, tears still brimming in her eyes as she stared at her own locked interface.
Barry¡¯s gaze flicked over the text, stoic as ever, but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed concern for Ned and Izzy. Gerald exhaled, half in relief, half in shock. He had also had System access now, though the cost overshadowed any sense of triumph.
Claire, scanning the ephemeral lines of her new menu, turned back to us. ¡°We have bigger problems. Jacob¡¯s¡­¡± She closed her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s gone, and we still don¡¯t know what the next step is. The portal might vanish, or we might have a wave three.¡±
I clenched my fists, a swirl of anger, sorrow, and quiet determination taking root in my gut. ¡°We need to hold it together. If that portal so much as twitches, we¡¯re going to be ready. No more losses.¡±
The tension in the corridor gradually ebbed once the second wave of Lumic Beetles had been thwarted, but our relief was stained by Jacob¡¯s death. The air felt stifling, weighed down by horror, exhaustion, and the System¡¯s unrelenting presence. With no new enemies spilling out of the portal, we guided each other back into the conference room, letting the battered door shut behind us.
Gerald hovered near the wall, still breathing heavily after his unexpected kill. His gaze lingered on the dissolved remains of the Beetle he¡¯d crushed, the reality of having genuinely contributed leaving him pale and shaken. Barry closed his eyes for a moment, as though centering himself, while Trevor¡ªever the jokester¡ªhad lost all spark of humor. Izzy and Ned stood side by side, outwardly uninjured, but their faces betrayed a deeper, raw vulnerability.
Claire cleared her throat. ¡°Let¡¯s take a moment to check our statuses, if the System is granting us full access now. We need every advantage.¡±
[Think ''System'' or ''Main Menu'' to access your interface. Unless you enjoy fumbling in the dark¡ªno judgment.]
A flicker of residual adrenaline made my pulse pound, but I forced myself to breathe slowly. Status, I thought, testing the mental command.
[System Menu: Status | Skills | Wallet]
A faint hum vibrated behind my eyes, and then a holographic panel materialized in front of me, semi-transparent yet perfectly legible. The words ¡°Main Menu¡± hovered at the top. I swallowed hard, remembering how partial my access had been before. Now it seemed I had more options.
¡°Okay,¡± I murmured, half to myself and half for the others. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ letting me see everything.¡±
Barry gently nodded as though reading his own panel. ¡°Same here. I¡¯m in.¡±
Trevor let out a shaky breath. ¡°Guess it¡¯s official¡­ I¡¯m part of this messed-up world now.¡±
Ned and Izzy exchanged glances, each looking forlorn. Their screens remained locked¡ªno kills meant no leveling, no new features. Ned¡¯s pen tapping resumed in quiet frustration.
I mentally nudged the ¡°Status¡± tab, and a swirl of text resolved into a crisp table:
Attribute Value
Level 2
XP Progress 0/3
Health Points 33/45
Mana Points 40/40
Stamina 10/25
Strength 5
Endurance 3
Dexterity 4
Intelligence 5
Wisdom 5
Perception 6
Luck 8
Attribute Points 5
I swallowed, a flood of contradictory emotions washing over me. So, I¡¯m at Level 2. And I have attribute points¡­ The System turned me into a literal game character.
Gerald exhaled sharply, presumably seeing something similar. ¡°This is unbelievable,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m halfway to level two?¡± His tone was torn between confusion and a thread of pride.
Trevor glanced at me with a half-quirked brow. ¡°I¡¯m still level one, but at least I see a full menu. That¡¯s¡­ something.¡±
Claire pursed her lips. ¡°It¡¯s not just about levels. We need to be smart about distributing points. We don¡¯t know how many more waves we¡¯ll face.¡±
She looked to Ned and Izzy, regret flickering in her gaze. Neither of them had kills, so neither had new stats to allocate. Ned shifted his weight, trying to mask his disappointment. Izzy¡¯s eyes drifted to the floor, tears still clinging to her lashes as she wrestled with the pain of Jacob¡¯s death.
I turned my attention to the Skills Panel next. My mind conjured ¡°Skill Details,¡± and a second table appeared:
Skill Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold (Partially Unlocked)
Type Passive
Rarity Uncommon (Evolvable)
Effect Amplifies all five senses, allowing the user to perceive details and movements with exceptional clarity and sensitivity. Detects subtle environmental cues and hidden threats automatically.
Notes While immensely useful in detecting dangers and enhancing situational awareness, prolonged exposure to chaotic environments can lead to sensory overload, resulting in disorientation and temporary sensory fatigue. Utilize focused breathing and mindfulness techniques to mitigate these effects. Unlock Progress: 25%.
I studied the lines with a knot in my stomach. Even at just twenty-five percent, the heightened senses teetered between helpful and overwhelming. I couldn¡¯t imagine how intense it might become if fully unlocked. What happens if we face an even bigger wave? Could I handle that?
Barry, having apparently done a similar check, looked over at me. ¡°You¡¯ve got the neural skill, right?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Any change?¡±
I shook my head. ¡°Still partial. Says it can evolve. Not sure if that¡¯s good or terrifying.¡±
A subdued hush lingered as we each dealt with the new reality of rummaging through intangible screens for the sake of survival. Meanwhile, Claire set aside her own panel, her features taut with responsibility.
¡°This helps us,¡± she said, her gaze flicking between me, Barry, Gerald, and Trevor¡ªall of us with at least partial leveling. ¡°We can handle more threats if they come. But the Trials¡­ they¡¯re real. We can¡¯t forget that Jacob didn¡¯t get this chance.¡±
Trevor¡¯s mop rested across his knees as he sat on a toppled chair, forehead creased. ¡°Jacob panicked. We couldn¡¯t save him.¡± He exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together. ¡°I¡ªI can¡¯t blame him. But¡­¡±
I nodded, finishing for him. ¡°But we have to learn from that. No more running blind.¡±
Gerald flexed his fingers around the battered club he¡¯d used to kill a Beetle. He looked more subdued than ever. ¡°I guess¡­ synergy or not, we¡¯re stuck in this together.¡±
Claire let her gaze drift to the conference room door, where Jacob¡¯s body lay shrouded somewhere in the corridor. The weight of loss was still fresh, pressing in on all of us like a suffocating veil. Then she inhaled, posture resolute. ¡°We need to prepare. The Trial might throw more at us¡ªwaves, or something else. I refuse to see anyone else dying under my watch.¡±
Izzy sniffled, wiping her cheeks. ¡°What¡¯s next then?¡± she asked, voice cracking from sorrow.
Claire¡¯s eyes hardened. ¡°We fortify. Secure this floor, gather supplies, and figure out if that portal can spawn anything else without warning. We use the time we have before the next wave¡ªif it comes at all.¡± She paused, acknowledging the tension in the air. ¡°And we face it. Together.¡±
A faint static hum rattled the overhead lights once more, but nothing emerged from the portal. For the moment, the swirling vortex seemed dormant, flickering like a half-powered machine waiting for its next command.
In that moment of quiet, we clung to the small reassurance that at least we had some power¡ªsome stats, some skills, some plan. Even if it all felt like a twisted cosmic joke, we weren¡¯t going to be helpless pawns. The System had turned our office into a battlefield, but we had a chance to fight back.
None of us spoke it aloud, but the promise was there in every glance: we would face the Trials head-on, forging synergy not by Gerald¡¯s meaningless presentations but by sheer necessity. The cost of inaction had already been stamped into our memories, and we wouldn¡¯t let it claim another life. Chapter 8 - One-Hour Respite
A dull ache radiated through my shoulders as I lowered the makeshift blade I¡¯d wrested from the guillotine paper cutter. The second wave of Lumic Beetles was gone¡ªdisintegrated into fractal dust that still shimmered on the gray carpet. Despite the flickering overhead lights and the lingering smell of burnt ozone, the conference room fell into a hush, broken only by our ragged breathing.
A sudden ping drew my attention to the middle of my field of view, where a System prompt flared:
[System Notification: Rest Period Granted. Time Remaining: 01:00:00]
I exhaled, trying not to let the tension in my chest unravel me. For a moment, nobody spoke. We were all frozen in that uneasy calm that follows a storm¡ªhands still trembling around battered weapons, blood pounding in our ears. Less than ten minutes ago, we¡¯d lost Jacob in the corridor. Now the System was handing us a break, complete with a countdown floating like a digital ghost overhead.
Claire¡¯s voice cut the silence. ¡°We have one hour.¡± She raked a hand through her hair, her expression tight and drawn. ¡°One hour to rest, regroup¡­ figure out what the hell we¡¯re doing next.¡±
Trevor snorted, leaning on his dented mop handle. He no longer looked amused¡ªjust hollow. ¡°An hour. Great. Guess the cosmic game master¡¯s feeling generous.¡±
Ned stood off to the side, pen tapping uselessly against his palm. His eyes flicked to the overhead timer, then away. Izzy hovered near Barry, arms wrapped around herself as though warding off the chill of the air conditioner. Gerald paced in the corner, gaze darting from the swirling portal to us, one hand clenched around the short weapon he¡¯d used to kill his first Beetle.
And me? My muscles ached, each breath underscoring how little I¡¯d actually processed the chaos. We have an hour, I thought, but it might feel like the shortest hour of our lives.
We gathered in a loose circle near the conference table, stepping over the churned-up carpet and shattered chairs. The memory of Jacob¡¯s last scream lingered like a specter in each of our minds. Izzy¡¯s eyes were puffy, tears still threatening to spill over. Barry, stoic as ever, made a point of staying close to her, a quiet show of solidarity.
I glanced at the overhead timer: 00:58:47. The seconds ticked down, an unnerving reminder that once this respite ended, the Trials would resume. We couldn¡¯t afford to crumble under grief.
Izzy swallowed, rubbing her sleeve across her face. ¡°I can¡¯t believe¡­ he¡¯s just¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t finish. Her voice broke, and she drew in a shaky breath.
Trevor set his mop aside, sliding down beside her. He winced when his injured arm brushed the table, but he forced a gentle smile anyway. ¡°Hey. You¡¯re here. That counts for something.¡±
Izzy shook her head. ¡°I stood there. I didn¡¯t do anything.¡±
Before Trevor could respond, Barry spoke up. ¡°None of us expected it to happen so fast. We couldn¡¯t protect him.¡± His jaw tensed, frustration simmering beneath the calm. ¡°We won¡¯t let it happen again.¡±
The quiet weight of that promise pressed down on us. Ned, who had been resting with his head in his hands, shifted to look at Claire. ¡°So what do we do now?¡± His voice trembled. ¡°We can¡¯t just keep waiting for more monsters. We¡­ we barely survived the second wave.¡±
Gerald, pacing near the battered door, let out an exasperated huff. ¡°We figure out a strategy to stay alive. That¡¯s what we do. Unless you¡¯d rather walk outside into that war zone.¡± He nodded at the small window near the corner, where smoke and distant fires painted the Seattle skyline in ominous shades of red and gray.
¡°Running won¡¯t help anyway,¡± Claire said, her voice steady. ¡°The System made that very clear. We stick together.¡±
A faint glimmer caught my eye¡ªa System panel blinking at the edge of my vision. Attribute Points, I remembered. I¡¯d been meaning to check them. The Trials had recognized my kills from the previous wave, pushing me to Level 2. Barry and Claire had similarly advanced, while Trevor and Gerald sat at Level 1. Ned and Izzy still had zero kills, leaving them locked out.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and whispered, ¡°Status.¡±
A momentary flicker, then a familiar interface unfurled in my sight:
| Attribute | Value |
|----------------------|----------|
| Level | 2 |
| XP Progress | 0/3 |
| Health Points | 33/45 |
| Mana Points | 40/40 |
| Stamina | 10/25 |
| Strength | 5 |Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
| Endurance | 3 |
| Dexterity | 4 |
| Intelligence | 5 |
| Wisdom | 5 |
| Perception | 6 |
| Luck | 8 |
| Attribute Points | 5 |
I stared at the table, still marveling at how a cosmic interface had turned my life into an RPG stat sheet. Five free points to invest. That might save my skin¡ªor someone else¡¯s¡ªif used wisely. A pang of regret twisted in my chest. If we¡¯d allocated these sooner, could we have saved Jacob?
A grunt from Barry told me he was looking at something similar. Claire¡¯s eyes flicked up from her ephemeral screen, her lips pressed into a firm line.
Trevor glanced over, curiosity in his gaze. ¡°What¡¯s the fancy new gear, oh mighty Level 2 folks?¡± He attempted a lopsided grin, but it wavered. He was obviously more shaken than he let on.
Gerald cleared his throat. ¡°We still have synergy issues if you¡¯re focusing on raw strength. Perhaps we should coordinate attributes so we¡­ complement each other better?¡± His tone was forced, reminiscent of old corporate talk.
I wanted to snap at him, but I swallowed the urge. Instead, I forced calm, remembering that Gerald had at least contributed a kill in the last wave¡ªsome stroke of luck. ¡°Might not be a bad idea. But we need to trust each other first, or the synergy you keep pushing for means nothing.¡±
Gerald bristled, crossing his arms, but he didn¡¯t argue. Maybe he realized synergy talk would lead nowhere if no one was listening.
Ned and Izzy stood off to the side, each wearing a look of helpless longing as they saw us rummaging through intangible screens. Ned¡¯s pen tapping grew frantic, and Izzy hugged herself tighter. My gut twisted with guilt, but there was no easy fix. The System demanded kills for access, and they hadn¡¯t landed any.
The overhead countdown read 00:51:12 when Claire spoke up again, voice echoing in the battered conference room. ¡°We¡¯ve got less than an hour left of guaranteed rest. That means we must do two things: figure out how to use this time wisely, and prevent panic.¡± Her gaze swept over each of us, pausing on Izzy, Ned, and Trevor in turn. ¡°Because next wave or next trial¡­ no one else dies.¡±
Izzy sniffled, but a flicker of determination crossed her features. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯ll do my best.¡±
Trevor nodded. ¡°Yeah. If we¡¯re all stuck in this cosmic pinball machine, might as well keep the ball rolling.¡±
Gerald rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the half-blocked corridor door. ¡°So we just¡­ wait? Build barricades?¡±
Barry shrugged, hefting the metal rod he¡¯d used to kill so many Beetles. ¡°Barricades help. So does scavenging for more items. We nearly ran out of anything decent to swing.¡± He shot a quick glance at me, as if to say we¡¯re living on scraps here.
My mind flitted to the savage ways we¡¯d had to defend ourselves: chair legs, mop handles, the guillotine blade. Hardly premium gear for an apocalypse. But it was all we had.
¡°Right,¡± Claire agreed. ¡°We¡¯ve already started piling furniture near the portal. Let¡¯s do it systematically. If that swirl of nightmares starts spitting out a wave three, they¡¯ll have obstacles to clear while we re-engage.¡±
Ned¡¯s voice came out in a tremor. ¡°I¡ª I can help with that.¡± He clutched the file drawer he¡¯d been using as a shield. ¡°Even if I can¡¯t¡­ you know.¡± He shrugged, frustration pinching his features.
Claire nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile. ¡°Good. We need every set of hands.¡±
Trevor pushed off the wall, picking up his broom-handle-turned-speaker-of-doom. ¡°Let¡¯s do it, then.¡± He paused, forcing an attempt at humor. ¡°Unless HR complains about misusing company property?¡±
Nobody laughed, but I appreciated the effort.
We moved into action, rearranging the battered conference room. Barry dragged a heavy wooden table near the portal, bracing it with chairs stacked three high. Trevor and I scoured the hallway for any leftover metal rods or shards of Beetle shells that might yield something valuable. Gerald muttered under his breath, helping block off one corner of the room. Izzy shadowed Barry, offering assistance where she could¡ªholding nails, passing him random supplies from the breakroom. Ned busied himself with reorganizing the scattered remains of our resource pile, systematically storing them in a corner.
Somewhere in the fray, a quiet beep signaled the timer dropping below fifty minutes. My Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold buzzed at the edges, reminding me of how easily the environment could overload my senses if a wave started. I squeezed my eyes shut for a breath, refocusing on the moment. Survive this hour, then survive the next. One step at a time.
Trevor came up to me, quietly. ¡°Any idea what¡¯s next?¡± he asked, voice low.
I shook my head. ¡°Not a clue. But I doubt it¡¯s good.¡± My stomach knotted at the thought. ¡°At least we have time to breathe. Or pretend to.¡±
He gave a faint grunt of agreement, then tapped the side of his mop. ¡°We can hold out. Right?¡±
I managed a tired shrug. ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice. But yeah¡­ if we stick together.¡±
Forty five minutes left. Almost thirty. The portal glowed softly, refusing to reveal whether wave three lurked behind it. Everyone worked silently now, concentration taut as we improved our makeshift fortress. Between the jagged partial remains of the second wave, the battered lighting, and that intangible sense of doom, our synergy was the only thing that stood between us and an early grave.
Finally, Claire called us to regroup near the battered conference table. ¡°We¡¯ve got a partial blockade around the portal and corridor. The building is quiet otherwise. We use the rest of the hour to recover, check menus if needed, and watch each other¡¯s backs. The moment the timer hits zero¡­¡± She let the words dangle, each of us filling in the dreaded the moment the timer hits zero, we fight if we have to.
A hush settled over the group. Every flicker of the overhead lamps stretched our shadows across the walls, and every second of the countdown felt loud in our minds. But for now, we were as ready as we could be¡ªdented weapons in hand, hearts still pounding from the last wave, eyes flicking to the swirling darkness that refused to vanish.
I ran my thumb over a battered copper coin in my pocket. We had quarter of an hour, give or take, to rest, talk, maybe try to be human again. And then? Who knows. The Trials weren¡¯t done with us, but we¡¯d made it this far.
We formed a makeshift circle, each claiming a small patch of carpet or an overturned chair to rest on. Barry massaged the tension from his arm, Trevor cradled his bruised ribs, and I carefully tested the guillotine blade¡¯s edge. Gerald wiped the sweat from his brow, trying not to look too shaken. Ned and Izzy huddled near each other, sharing a brief, whispered conversation¡ªtwo who had no System kills, locked out of leveling, but still determined to help.
Overhead, the timer flashed:
00:29:58
In the stuttering fluorescent glow, none of us said a word. We didn¡¯t have to. This was our hour to breathe, to mend, to force hope out of the ashes. Because once the clock hit zero, the Trials would demand our blood again. Chapter 9: Tense Skill Negotiation The conference room felt eerily still, each of us occupying our own bubble of uneasy quiet. The System¡¯s rest timer remained projected in the air¡ªsomewhere under half an hour left¡ªyet it already felt like too little time. Every so often, a faint flicker of the fluorescent fixtures would draw our eyes upward, a reflexive check to see if the portal at the room¡¯s center had stirred. Trevor sprawled on the tattered gray carpet, his mop-turned-spear across his knees. He stared at it absently, occasionally running his thumb over the jagged end as if checking it was real. Barry leaned against a makeshift barricade of tables and chairs, his arms folded. Izzy hovered nearby, fiddling with a torn piece of cloth, still shaken from the wave¡ªand from the memory of Jacob¡¯s end. Claire stood at the far side, arms tight across her chest, scanning each of us with the same assessing gaze she¡¯d used back when we were just coworkers, not warriors. Gerald fiddled with his short club, glancing around like he wanted to speak but couldn¡¯t find the words. Meanwhile, Ned tapped his pen, glancing at the overhead timer every few seconds, as if waiting for the next wave of chaos. Despite the lull, tension crackled like static in the air. I sat on the edge of an overturned office chair, letting my battered guillotine blade rest against my shoulder. The rest timer made me uneasy; it was too deliberate¡ªthe System allowing us to breathe. Breathe so it can test us again, obviously. My nerves still felt raw, but one fact lingered: if we wanted to get out alive, we needed to use every second wisely. Claire sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair off her forehead. ¡°We have to finalize what we¡¯re doing with those skill scrolls,¡± she said, glancing at the battered stash of items Ned and Trevor had laid out. ¡°No matter how short this break is, any edge helps.¡± Trevor pushed off the floor, kneeling by a small pile of luminous scrolls, glimmering crystals, and a handful of copper coins. ¡°All right, we¡¯ve got¡­¡± He counted them off on his fingers. ¡°Three Lumic Flash scrolls¡ªthough I think Ethan took one last wave¡ªsome glowy Lumic Cores that we still don¡¯t fully understand, and this sweet baby.¡± He lifted a parchment labeled Precision Strike, flicking it in the air for emphasis. Barry¡¯s eyes followed the movement with quiet interest. Claire had already suggested that skill for him, but the prior wave¡¯s chaos had interrupted any chance to hand it over formally. Now was the time to settle that. "Hold up," Gerald interrupted, stepping forward with his brow furrowed and his arms crossed. "Why does he get the Uncommon skill? Shouldn''t we¡ª" "Vote?" Trevor cut in, his grin widening to infuriating levels. "Yeah, let''s put it to a vote. Because when the apocalypse rains down flashing beetles, democracy is exactly what saves the day." Gerald''s glare could''ve peeled paint off the walls. "I''m serious," he said, his voice rising, echoing faintly off the barren walls. "We can''t just hand out the best stuff to the guy who looks tough. That''s a great way to¡ª" "To not die?" Trevor suggested, his tone mock-helpful. "Barry here could snap one of those beetles in half with his eyebrows, so forgive me if I want him doing that with skills to back it up." The air grew heavier as the tension built, the faint hum of the portal pulsing in sync with the heated exchange. Shadows flickered across the walls, jagged and restless as if reflecting the room''s mood. Gerald stiffened. His tone wasn¡¯t as combative as before, but the tension in his voice was unmistakable. "If we only hand out the good stuff to the so-called strong, what happens to the rest of us? Are we supposed to just¡­ hope for the best?" "Hope''s great," Trevor said, his grin fading slightly, though the sarcasm stayed. "But so is not dying because Barry gutted something before it gutted us." "Enough," Claire snapped, her tone cutting through the argument like a whip. She stepped forward, placing herself between them with an authority that made both men hesitate. Her gaze was firm, unwavering. "We''ll distribute based on what keeps us alive the longest. Lumic Flash is flexible¡ªanyone can use it. Precision Strike requires strength and precision. Barry fits. Or do you think you''d do better with it, Gerald?" Gerald exhaled, crossing his arms. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I want it, just¡­ I killed a Beetle too. Is there anything else for me to use?¡± He glanced at the leftover scrolls. ¡°Lumic Flash maybe?¡± Trevor shrugged, smirking faintly. ¡°I recall Ethan was carrying a Flash scroll, but hey, we¡¯ve got a couple more. Lucky you.¡± I sighed, pushing myself to my feet. ¡°Look, if we want to maximize survival, we need to ensure the right people get the right gear.¡± My stomach still knotted when I thought of Jacob¡¯s empty spot, but I forced myself to focus. ¡°Gerald, if you want to handle crowd control, you can take a Lumic Flash. Barry can use Precision Strike to, I dunno, decapitate something before it kills us.¡± Gerald mulled that over, posture stiff. Finally, he gave a begrudging nod. ¡°Fine.¡± Claire nodded, flicking her gaze to Barry. ¡°All right, then. Precision Strike is yours.¡± She lifted the small scroll from Trevor¡¯s hand. ¡°Barry, you want to handle the system acceptance?¡± Barry looked down at his broad hands, then reached out to take the scroll with careful precision. He cracked it open, the parchment glowing faintly as runic symbols shimmered across his palms. A subtle greenish light flickered around him, and then the scroll disintegrated like dust motes. He blinked, exhaling slowly.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The same hush fell as we watched for any dramatic sign that Barry was now unstoppable. But he simply closed and opened his fists, as if testing a new range of motion. ¡°All right,¡± he rumbled quietly. ¡°Feels¡­ different. I¡¯ll see how it works in the next fight.¡± Trevor attempted a wry smile. ¡°Just try not to ¡®Precision Strike¡¯ one of us, yeah?¡± Barry managed an almost-smile back. ¡°Noted.¡± With that settled, Trevor tossed one of the Lumic Flash scrolls to Gerald, who caught it reflexively. Gerald eyed it with a mixture of relief and lingering doubt. He nodded thanks, though his expression remained guarded. Across the room, Izzy sat near Ned, her hands twisting in her lap. Neither had kills, so neither had leveled up or could they use scrolls. The disparity in the group¡¯s power deepened the sense of guilt that flickered in my chest. They¡¯re locked out, forced to watch us gather new toys while they stand on the sidelines. Ned¡¯s pen tapped faster, betraying his anxiety. Finally, he muttered, ¡°I wish there was a way for me¡ªus¡ªto help. Without¡ª¡± He trailed off, swallowing whatever dread accompanied the concept of having to kill a monster. ¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± Izzy said softly, tears pricking her eyes again. ¡°But¡­ we¡¯ll keep trying. The next wave, maybe I can¡ª¡± She hesitated, as though the idea of actively hunting a kill turned her stomach. ¡°I can¡¯t just sit here forever.¡± Barry overheard, turning their way. ¡°We¡¯ll keep you safe,¡± he said simply. ¡°And if you see an opening for a kill, maybe that¡¯s how you get System access. But you don¡¯t have to force it.¡± Izzy nodded shakily. She tried to respond, but words failed, so she just squeezed Ned¡¯s elbow in a silent show of solidarity. Claire cleared her throat, stepping forward with a determined look. ¡°We have about half an hour left, presumably.¡± She glanced at the overhead timer (which read something in the 20¨C25 minute range) and gave a curt nod. ¡°That means we get reorganized, set up what we can, and maybe rest if possible. I¡¯m assigning watch shifts so that at least one person¡¯s eyes stay on the portal at all times.¡± Trevor raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what if something spawns right under our noses at minute five?¡± Her lips tightened. ¡°Then we deal with it. But it can¡¯t blindside us if we¡¯re paying attention.¡± She paused. ¡°Gerald, you take the first watch. You¡¯ve got that new Flash skill. If anything weird happens, use it to stall.¡± Gerald bristled slightly but said nothing in protest. He moved toward the portal, setting his short weapon aside so he could examine the flickering swirl more closely, scroll in hand. We drifted into smaller tasks. Barry resumed fortifying the makeshift barricades. Ned and Izzy tried to salvage anything that might serve as bandages or padding. Trevor rummaged through the break room for more potential tools, a grim version of scouring for office supplies. Every so often, I heard him mutter comedic lines like, ¡°Stapler: The +1 version,¡± but there was no real levity in his voice. I carefully tested the edge of my guillotine blade, wincing at how jagged it was becoming. Maybe I could find duct tape to reinforce the handle. My mind wandered: One wave left? Two? A hundred? The rest timer hovered overhead, each second a mocking tap on my shoulder. Claire noticed my distraction. She set her rod aside and approached. ¡°You okay?¡± I forced a half-smile. ¡°Define ¡®okay.¡¯¡± She pressed her lips together, scanning my face. ¡°I get it,¡± she said softly. ¡°This is¡­ it¡¯s insane. We¡¯re all¡­ processing.¡± A faint ache tugged behind my eyes, courtesy of the Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold. ¡°Thanks. Just¡­ worried about the next wave. Or the next ten waves.¡± Her gaze flicked to the swirling portal, unsettled. ¡°We¡¯ll handle them if they come. One at a time, if that¡¯s what it takes.¡± She exhaled, letting her posture relax a fraction. ¡°Remember, you¡¯ve got attribute points to assign. Don¡¯t wait too long.¡± I nodded, looking away. My chest felt tight, not only from the heartbreak of losing Jacob but from the knowledge that everything hinged on these ephemeral stats and skills. It¡¯s like the worst game ever¡­ but if we don¡¯t play, we die. Time bled away, the rest period creeping toward its final stretch. The overhead clock beeped gently at a ten-minute mark. Trevor had reorganized the random loot¡ªLumic Cores, leftover coins¡ªinto a neat pile on the conference table. Barry finished jamming a heavy metal cabinet against the corridor entrance. Gerald stood in vigilant silence, eyes darting between the portal¡¯s flickers and the battered remains of the room. Ned and Izzy approached me and Claire. Their eyes shone with a mix of fear and fragile determination. ¡°We can¡¯t just¡­ stand idle,¡± Izzy said, voice trembling. ¡°If wave three hits, I want to try¡ª¡± ¡°To kill one, yeah,¡± Ned broke in, grimacing. ¡°Horrible as that sounds, I need access. I can¡¯t keep cowering if we might lose someone else.¡± Claire regarded them both, sympathy etched into her features. ¡°We¡¯ll do what we can to help. If an opening comes, we¡¯ll let you take the final blow. Just be careful.¡± She pressed her lips into a thin line. ¡°No second chances in these Trials.¡± Another beep from the overhead clock made us all glance up. Rest Period: 00:09:47. My stomach twisted. Ten minutes left. Or so said the cosmic scoreboard. Trevor must have read my expression, because he forced a small, crooked grin. ¡°Ten minutes to live, guys. Nothing like working under a deadline.¡± I huffed a weak laugh, though worry still gnawed at me. ¡°I guess that¡¯s one way to put it.¡± Gerald stepped away from the portal, raising his free hand to show he was finished with watch duty. ¡°It¡¯s stable,¡± he murmured, ¡°but I don¡¯t trust it. Like it¡¯s waiting.¡± ¡°Join the club,¡± I muttered. In the quiet that followed, Claire glanced at the battered chairs, the remains of our fight, and the newly stacked barricades. Her grip on her rod tightened. ¡°We did all we can.¡± Her eyes flicked around, meeting each of our gazes in turn. ¡°No matter what comes next, we stick together. Barry, you¡¯ve got Precision Strike; Gerald, you have Lumic Flash. Ethan, Trevor, you keep using your abilities or at least your wits. Use your Lumic Flash skill scrolls if you can. Ned, Izzy¡ªstay behind us until an opening comes for you to strike.¡± Barry gave a small nod. ¡°We won¡¯t lose another person to panic.¡± Everyone of us with system access except Barry had received a Lumic Flash skill scroll. I hadn¡¯t used mine, as I didn¡¯t want to overload my senses. But it helped to have that option. The overhead lights flickered one final time, making the shadows waver across the desks and walls. Ten minutes. Enough to catch our breath, but not enough to erase the horror we¡¯d seen. The timer overhead clicked down into single digits: 00:08:59¡­ 00:08:58¡­ A faint crackle from the portal sent a jolt through the group. Immediately, we all raised our battered weapons, hearts pounding in grim anticipation. But nothing emerged. Not yet. We waited, each second throbbing in our ears. Would wave three spawn the instant the rest ended? Or was the System cruel enough to let us tear ourselves apart with anxiety? I firmed my grip on the guillotine blade, glancing sideways at Ned and Izzy. They looked pale but resolute. Trevor¡¯s eyes glimmered with forced bravado. Barry exuded calm readiness, while Gerald clutched his scroll, lips pressed tight. Claire lifted her chin, scanning us all like a commander about to lead troops into a hopeless war¡ªand choosing to do it anyway. We had minutes, maybe less, before the next test. The swirl of tension in my chest felt heavier than the battered metal in my hands. But we are together. And as long as we are together, we have a chance. Chapter 10: Containment Protocol We had minutes, maybe less, before the next test. The swirl of tension in my chest felt heavier than the battered guillotine blade in my hands. The overhead lights flickered again, making shadows leap across the cubicles and the barricaded portal. The rest timer hovered near eight minutes, each second evaporating into the stale air. Barry stood to my left, his wrench resting across his broad shoulder. He looked like a statue carved from granite¡ªcold, silent, and immovable. His new skill, Precision Strike, hadn¡¯t yet seen action, but a part of me took comfort in knowing Barry had something deadlier than a random piece of metal to swing now. Trevor slumped against a battered desk, absently rubbing his bruised shoulder. He¡¯d made a few halfhearted jokes about ¡°office synergy¡± earlier, but now he just stared at the swirling black-and-silver portal that seemed to pulse in time with our heartbeats. Next to Trevor was Gerald, arms crossed tightly, one foot tapping the torn carpet in restless energy. Even though he¡¯d acquired Lumic Flash, he looked anything but confident. Claire, at the center of our makeshift formation, stood with her rod angled defensively, her posture rigid. I found no comfort in the tightness of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. If someone as calm as Claire looked worried, I knew we were in deep. Ned and Izzy hovered a few steps behind us¡ªstill locked out of the System, still determined not to cower in the storeroom. Izzy cradled her injured hand carefully, while Ned clutched his makeshift pole like it was the only anchor he had left. They both wore the same expression: fear mixed with fragile resolve. If a new wave hit, they were stuck fighting as bystanders who lacked even the simplest System support. A muffled beep from the overhead timer made everyone glance upward. Rest Period: 00:07:56. Faint static crackled through the room, a subtle reminder of how close we were to that dreaded zero. Another wave, maybe multiple, could descend the moment that clock ran out. I swallowed. Focus, Ethan. You¡¯ve got Enhanced Senses¡ªuse them. But all I picked up was the hum of the portal, the ragged breathing of my teammates, and the faint whiff of ozone that clung to the air since our last confrontation. Tension hung so thick I could almost taste it. Barry exhaled slowly, his voice low. ¡°We hold here. We don¡¯t scatter.¡± His gaze swept the group, lingering on Trevor and Gerald as if daring them to argue. Neither did. Trevor offered a weak grin. ¡°All for one and one for not dying.¡± No one laughed, but a flicker of grim amusement tugged at the corner of my mouth. Trevor¡¯s still trying. In these final minutes, I appreciated the effort. Claire¡¯s eyes flicked to me. ¡°Anything off with your senses?¡± I closed my eyes for half a second, letting my Enhanced Neural Sensory Threshold stretch out. A trickle of awareness flitted at the edges of my perception¡ªlike an unstable current or a vibration too low to hear. ¡°Not sure,¡± I said, opening my eyes. ¡°Something¡­ uneasy about the portal. But I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s me or the environment.¡± She nodded, not pressing further. ¡°Stay alert. The moment you sense anything, speak up.¡± The overhead lights flickered again, this time so violently that Ned let out a startled yelp. A deep chill rolled through the conference room, as if someone had cranked the air conditioner well below freezing. My breath stuttered in my chest. The portal in front of us began to shimmer in erratic pulses, its color shifting from murky gray to something darker. Claire tensed, rod gripped in her hands. ¡°Shadows¡­ they¡¯re moving.¡± Her voice was soft, but it cut through our quiet like a knife. ¡°Something big is pushing through.¡± A subtle drone filled my ears¡ªa low, vibrating hum that seemed to set my teeth on edge. ¡°I hear it too,¡± Barry added, hefting his wrench. ¡°Something¡¯s changing in there.¡± Ned¡¯s fingers fumbled on his pole, knuckles whitening. Izzy edged closer to him, her injured hand pressed against her chest. Trevor¡¯s breathing quickened; I saw him swallow hard, as though forcing down another joke that refused to come out. Then the System took over, a shimmering notification sliding across my field of view in harsh, stuttering text: [Portal energy source unstable. Higher-tier entity detected. Prepare for escalation.] My heart dropped. A ¡°higher-tier entity¡±? That didn¡¯t sound like just another wave of Lumic Beetles. Trevor snorted, though it came out shaky. ¡°Great. Because the last waves were so friendly.¡± Barry didn¡¯t reply, his focus fixed on the portal. Claire shot Trevor a warning glance but didn¡¯t scold him this time. We were all too tense to do more than wait and watch. The temperature plummeted further. Condensation formed on the metal edges of the portal barricade we¡¯d pieced together. My Enhanced Senses spiked an alarm in my head, and I took a step back, gripping the guillotine blade so hard my fingers hurt. Something white and impossibly long slid through the portal¡¯s surface. It twisted in a slow, deliberate motion¡ªa limb, humanoid in shape but grotesquely elongated at every joint. My stomach turned. Ned nearly dropped his pole, managing a strangled, ¡°What is¡ª?¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Izzy let out a half-choked scream, clamping her uninjured hand over her mouth. The thing¡¯s pale skin looked stretched like old parchment, veins and sinew visible beneath. It moved with horrifying grace, claws sinking into the tabletop with a wet crunch that made me swallow back bile. A jolt of shock raced through me as the monstrous limb pulled itself further in, revealing more of that misshapen anatomy. Dark, viscous fluid clung to its claws¡ªBeetle ichor from whatever it had torn through to get here. The sight made my skin crawl. If it could shred those beetles, what chance did we have? Gerald¡¯s face was a mask of frozen horror, yet he lifted his small club as if it might matter. ¡°What is that thing?¡± No one answered. The portal rippled, sending a spasm down the creature¡¯s limb. Another System prompt blinked frantically: [Illegal Entity Detected. Initiating Containment Protocol¡ªStand By¡­] Claire¡¯s eyes darted to the words, her grip on the rod tightening. ¡°Containment protocol?¡± she echoed, voice trembling but firm. The monster¡¯s claws sank deeper into the wood, carving out ragged grooves. I could feel each slice in my bones, like nails on a chalkboard amplified a hundredfold by my senses. Get it together, Ethan. But my knees wobbled. If that entire creature made it through¡­ A piercing whine erupted from the portal, shrill enough to set Trevor and Gerald clapping their hands over their ears. Ned gasped, staggering sideways. The swirling colors at the portal¡¯s edges shifted to an angry red, arcs of violet sparks dancing across the limb. Then it happened in a flash: a shriek of energy tore through the air. The entity¡¯s limb convulsed, and the portal seemed to fold in on itself. In an instant, a razor-thin line of light appeared, slicing cleanly through that ghastly arm, severing it mid-joint. A wet thud reverberated through the room as the limb crashed onto the table. Ichor splattered, black and vile, coating the battered barricade. The stump still protruding from the portal twitched once, then vanished in a swirl of sparks. The hum crescendoed¡ªthen died. For a breathless second, none of us moved. The dismembered limb lay twitching, claws scraping weakly against the wood. My stomach lurched. Trevor broke the silence first, a half-strangled noise escaping his throat. ¡°That is¡­ not how I wanted my day to go.¡± Barry exhaled, eyes locked on the severed appendage. ¡°The System¡­ actually forced it out?¡± Claire inched forward, gaze flicking from the oozing limb to the portal¡¯s now-shrinking circumference. The charred outline on the table crackled, the faint smell of burnt ozone stinging my nostrils. [Containment Successful. Illegal Invasion Halted.] Another beep, almost smug in tone. My heart hammered so loudly it hurt. Izzy whimpered, stepping back until her shoulders hit the conference room wall. Ned¡¯s eyes were huge, pen trembling in his grip. ¡°That¡­ was bigger than a Beetle,¡± he whispered. A new swirl of color raced across the portal¡¯s surface¡ªlike a film rewinding at high speed. Tendrils of green light bled in from the edges, dissolving what was left of the old silvery shimmer. The limb on the table twitched one last time, then lay still, pale claws curled like dead spiders. My attention drifted back to the new portal, its green hue swirling almost invitingly. "Does it lead to the same place?" I muttered to myself. "Or somewhere worse?" "You''re not seriously thinking about going in there," Claire said sharply, noticing my gaze. "No," I lied quickly, shaking my head. Not yet. My Enhanced Senses picked up the sizzle of necrotic flesh interacting with the air. Why do I have to smell everything with such clarity? My stomach did a slow roll. I forced myself to stand straighter, swallowing bile. Trevor forced a humorless laugh, stepping forward just enough to peer at the limb. ¡°Anyone else think it smells like overcooked calamari?¡± Barry cast him a dark look. ¡°Not the time.¡± Gerald, still gripping his short club, exhaled shakily. ¡°I¡­ That thing was no Beetle. If the System didn¡¯t force it out, we¡¯d be dead.¡± Claire nodded, her expression tight with exhaustion and relief. ¡°We owe the System¡ªjust this once.¡± She shot the severed limb another wary glance. ¡°But look.¡± We all turned to see the portal re-forming into a swirling, green-hued vortex. Gone was the harsh red swirl of that monstrous entity. This glow was sinister in a subtler way, pulsing with an almost rhythmic calm. A slight flicker of overhead lights told me the rest period¡¯s final seconds were nearly up. My gaze shifted to the battered digital overlay: Rest Period: 00:00:15¡­ 00:00:14¡­ Trevor let out a hollow laugh, though it lacked his usual edge. "Rest period? This was rest?" He gestured at the severed limb with a wild wave. "If this is what we get for resting, I''m good. Let''s just skip to the nightmare part." The System chimed again, its tone dripping with infuriating smugness. Right on cue, the System chimed: [Rest Period Over. Good luck¡ªyou¡¯ll need it.] A single, unified exhalation went through the group as we realized we were out of time. The severed limb was quiet, but the new portal definitely wasn¡¯t. A faint crackle skimmed its edges, as if building energy for another wave. ¡°Figures,¡± Trevor muttered, adjusting his grip on the mop handle. ¡°All that drama, and we still gotta fight.¡± Barry nodded, shouldering his wrench. ¡°At least we¡¯re alive.¡± Izzy let out a shaky breath, brushing her hair from her face with her uninjured hand. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± Gerald approached the green vortex carefully, prodding the air near it with his club. ¡°We get ready for the next wave, obviously.¡± Anxiety bled through his gruff words. ¡°And hope it¡¯s not another¡­ limb.¡± ¡°That was no normal monster,¡± Ned murmured. ¡°Illegal¡­ The System used the word ¡®illegal.¡¯¡± Claire squared her shoulders, stepping up beside Barry. ¡°We can¡¯t worry about what almost got through. We should worry about what¡¯s coming next. Everyone¡ªstay on guard.¡± I felt my heartbeat in my throat as I lifted the guillotine blade again, trying to push aside the memory of that severed appendage. ¡°No telling if it¡¯ll spawn something bigger or smaller,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But we¡¯re in this.¡± A hush settled, so thick I could hear my own heartbeat. The overhead fluorescents flickered, but we barely noticed. All eyes locked on the newly minted green portal. Its edges crackled faintly like static, no immediate sign of another creature forcing its way in. Yet. ¡°Get ready,¡± Claire said softly, voice trembling at the edges. ¡°Because it¡¯s not done.¡± A final beep. The rest timer vanished from view, replaced by a loaded silence. We stood in tense formation¡ªBarry in front, me and Claire flanking him, Trevor and Gerald forming the sides, Ned and Izzy just behind. Weapons raised, hearts pounding. A swirl of adrenaline, fear, and grim determination coursed through me. We survived a monstrous entity¡¯s near-invasion, but the Trials are far from over. My Enhanced Senses twitched, picking up subtle changes in the air. Some new threat was brewing behind that swirling green maelstrom. I inhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay steady. ¡°Here we go,¡± I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. In that breath, we all braced. Because though we didn¡¯t see the next wave yet, we knew it was coming. The System¡¯s rest was gone, the illusions of safety stripped away. The same question weighed on every mind: What comes after an ¡®illegal entity¡¯?