Chapter 4: Rules of the Game

The alley felt eerily quiet now, the faint hum of the streetlamp the only sound cutting through the darkness. Ethan leaned against the brick wall, his chest still rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. The stranger sat slumped across from him, his face pale, his hands trembling.

Ethan broke the silence first. "All right, spill. What is this system? Why do I wake up with claw marks, and why was that shadowy nightmare chasing us?"

The man stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "You really don't know, do you? You're new. A 'fresh dreamer.'"

"Yeah, just popped in last night. Didn't get the welcome packet. Care to explain?"

The man exhaled slowly, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. You've stumbled into something way bigger than you think."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Bigger than killer goblins and shadow monsters? Color me shocked."

The man ignored the sarcasm. "The system you've got? We call it the Dream Forge. It's not a dream—it's a separate reality. A place where people like us are forced to fight, level up, and survive."

"'People like us'?" Ethan asked. "You mean other unlucky schmucks who got sucked into this nightmare?"

"Exactly," the man said. "We're called 'dreamers.' For reasons no one fully understands, the Forge chooses certain people. It drags us into its world every time we fall asleep. And it doesn't let go."

Ethan frowned. "So… what? We're just stuck in this forever?"

The man's jaw tightened. "Until you die. In the Forge or out here—it doesn't matter. You die in one, you're gone in both."

Ethan's stomach churned. "Okay, well, that's horrifying. But why us? What's the point of all this?"

The man hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That's the million-dollar question. Some say it's an experiment. Others think it's a game created by something… bigger than us. But whatever it is, the Forge is alive. It watches us. It pushes us to grow stronger, faster, smarter. And when you stop growing…" He trailed off, his eyes darkening.

Ethan finished the thought. "It kills you."

The man nodded. "You're starting to get it."

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The Rules of the Forge

Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Okay, so how does this whole thing work? I've figured out the basics—quests, skills, levels. But what's the bigger picture?"

The man pulled a tattered notebook from his jacket pocket, flipping through pages filled with messy handwriting and crude diagrams. He tapped a page with a sketch of a glowing crystal. "The Forge operates on a few key rules. First, quests. Every night, you're given objectives. Complete them, and you get stronger. Fail, and you take damage—or worse."

"Yeah, figured that part out the hard way," Ethan muttered, rubbing his side.

"Second," the man continued, "the system's designed to make you fight. It throws enemies at you, and they get harder every time. Sometimes it's goblins or wolves. Other times…" He glanced down the alley where the Shadow Stalker had attacked. "It's things like that."

Ethan frowned. "And those things? What was that?"

"An Elite," the man said grimly. "Rare, but deadly. They're stronger than regular enemies, and they're designed to weed out the weak. If you're not prepared, they'll kill you without breaking a sweat."

"Fantastic," Ethan said, leaning back. "Anything else I should know? Or is this where you tell me the Forge just gets worse?"

The man hesitated before speaking again. "There's one more thing. The Forge… it's not just in your dreams anymore. The stronger you get, the more the lines between the dream world and reality start to blur."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Blur how?"

"You've probably already noticed it," the man said. "Little things. Maybe you saw something out of the corner of your eye—a shadow that wasn't there. Maybe your wounds hurt more than they should. The stronger you grow in the Forge, the more it leaks into this world. Eventually…" He trailed off, his voice dropping. "Eventually, the monsters will come here too."

Ethan's blood ran cold. "You're saying… what? The dream world is leaking into reality?"

The man nodded. "And it doesn't stop. That's why people like us don't last long. It's not just about surviving the dreams. It's about keeping reality from falling apart."

---

The Cost of Strength

Ethan sat in silence for a moment, his mind spinning. "Okay. So how do I stop it? How do I get out of this?"

The man gave a bitter laugh. "You think there's a way out? There isn't. You either keep fighting until the Forge decides you're strong enough, or you die trying."

"And what happens when you're 'strong enough'?" Ethan asked. "Does the Forge just… let you go?"

"No one knows," the man said, his voice low. "No one's ever made it that far."

Ethan's grip on the metal pipe tightened. He didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit.

"So what's your plan?" he asked. "You've clearly been at this longer than I have. How do you stay alive?"

The man hesitated before answering. "You have to play smart. Don't take unnecessary risks. Use every advantage you can. And most importantly…" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Don't trust anyone."

Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?"

The man's voice turned cold. "The Forge is a competition. It pits dreamers against each other. Sure, you'll run into people who want to help. But more often than not, they'll stab you in the back to get ahead. You can't afford to let your guard down."

Ethan stared at him, his mind racing. He wanted to argue, to say he wasn't the type to turn on others, but something about the man's tone sent a chill down his spine. This wasn't just paranoia. It was survival.

"So what now?" Ethan asked, standing up. "Do we just part ways and hope we don't run into another shadow monster?"

The man hesitated, then nodded. "For now, yeah. You're strong, but you're green. Keep your head down, level up, and don't attract attention. And if you see another Stalker…" He paused, his expression grim. "Run."

With that, the man turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Ethan alone in the alley.

Ethan stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where the man had been. His chest still ached, his mind spinning with everything he'd just learned. The Forge. The monsters. The blurred lines between dream and reality.

"Yeah," he muttered, turning to head home. "This is going to get worse before it gets better."

As he walked away, his phone buzzed again.

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New Quest Timer: 6 hours, 43 minutes.

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Ethan sighed. "Of course. Because sleep is for quitters."