Chapter 8: The Quiet Before the Storm
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting thin slivers of light across Ethan's cluttered apartment. He sat at his kitchen table, poking at a bowl of cold cereal that had gone soggy while he stared at the notification on his phone.
---
System Alert: Group Raid Incoming.
Objective: Survive and Complete Mission.
Time Until Entry: 13 Hours.
---
Thirteen hours. Now just twelve. Ethan's leg bounced restlessly under the table as he refreshed the notification screen, hoping it would offer more details. It didn't.
"What kind of raid?" he muttered. "What mission? Are we fighting something, running from something, or just trying not to die? And why is the Forge so damn vague?"
The phone didn't answer him, of course. It just sat there, glowing softly, a constant reminder of the nightmare waiting for him tonight.
Ethan sighed and pushed the cereal bowl away. His appetite was gone, replaced by a pit in his stomach that seemed to grow deeper with every passing minute.
---
9:00 a.m.
Work was the last place Ethan wanted to be, but he couldn't exactly call in sick again. His boss already gave him a raised eyebrow the last time he'd ducked out with a half-baked excuse. And the last thing he needed was to explain his declining attendance—or the mysterious cuts and bruises that kept appearing on his arms.
He sat at his desk, staring at the glowing screen of his computer. Rows of spreadsheets blurred together as he tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to the Forge.
"You okay, man?" came a voice from the desk across from him. Ethan looked up to see his coworker, Jenny, peering at him with concern.
Jenny was one of the few people at the office he actually liked. She had an easy smile and a knack for making light of even the worst days. But today, she didn't look amused—just worried.
"Yeah," Ethan said, forcing a smile. "Didn't sleep great. That's all."
Jenny raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You look like you went twelve rounds with a raccoon."
Ethan chuckled weakly. "Close enough."
She frowned, leaning forward. "Seriously, though. If you need to talk—"
"I'm fine," Ethan said quickly, cutting her off. "Thanks, though."
Jenny hesitated, then nodded, though her eyes lingered on him a moment longer before she turned back to her work.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hated lying to her, but what was he supposed to say? That every time he closed his eyes, he woke up in a death game where wolves and shadow monsters tried to kill him? Yeah, that would go over well.
The hours dragged on. He typed, clicked, and answered emails, all while the countdown lingered in the back of his mind. By lunchtime, he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the office, ignoring the sideways glance from his boss.
---
12:45 p.m.
Ethan found himself at the park a few blocks from his apartment, sitting on a weathered bench under a tree. Kids played on the swings in the distance, their laughter carrying on the breeze, while joggers passed by with earbuds in, oblivious to everything but their playlists.
He envied them. They didn't have to worry about glowing interfaces or killer wolves. Their lives were normal, predictable. Safe.
He stared at his hands, the faint scars from his last encounter in the Forge still visible on his knuckles. The cuts on his side throbbed faintly under his jacket, a constant reminder of how close he'd come to dying.
Why me? he thought, his jaw tightening. Why not someone else?
The Forge didn't care, though. It didn't care about his life, his job, or his fear. It only cared about pushing him, testing him, and seeing how far he could go before he broke.
His phone buzzed, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Pulling it from his pocket, he half expected another notification from the Forge, but it was just Jenny.
---
Jenny: Hey, you disappeared. Everything okay?
---
Ethan stared at the message, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He wanted to tell her the truth, but what would be the point? She couldn't help him, and even if she believed him, it would just put her in danger.
---
Ethan: Just needed some air. I'll see you tomorrow.
---
Her reply came almost instantly.
---
Jenny: You sure you're okay? You've been off lately.
---
Ethan sighed, pocketing the phone without replying. He couldn't deal with it right now. He couldn't deal with anything.
---
4:00 p.m.
Ethan spent the afternoon pacing his apartment, the tension building with every passing hour. He tried to distract himself—watching TV, playing an old video game, even attempting to clean the mess in his kitchen—but nothing worked. The notification on his phone loomed over him like a storm cloud.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed the metal pipe he'd kept from the Forge and started swinging it around his living room like a makeshift sword, practicing strikes and dodges.
"Okay, Ethan," he muttered to himself. "Left swing, right swing. Block. Dodge. Hit the giant murder monster and pray it doesn't hit back."
He knew it wasn't much, but it was better than sitting around waiting to die.
---
6:30 p.m.
The knock at his door came just as the notification updated.
---
Raid Countdown: 3 Hours.
---
Ethan opened the door to find Karis standing there, her expression sharp and focused. She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, tossing her satchel onto the couch.
"You ready for this?" she asked.
"Not even a little," Ethan admitted. "You?"
"I was born ready," Karis said, smirking. "But judging by the way you're holding that pipe, you've got a long way to go."
Ethan frowned, glancing down at the pipe. "What's wrong with how I'm holding it?"
"Everything," Karis said, grabbing the pipe from him. "But we'll get to that. First, we need to go over your stats."
"My stats?"
"Yeah, genius," Karis said, rolling her eyes. "Pull up your interface. We've got three hours to turn you into someone who won't die in the first five minutes."
Ethan hesitated, then focused, pulling up the glowing interface. As the numbers and skills appeared in front of him, Karis leaned over his shoulder, scanning the screen.
"Not bad for a newbie," she said. "But if you want to survive, you're going to need more than raw numbers. Let's break this down…"