Fever Mission - The Great Escape Gone Wrong

I. System's Latest Cruelty: The Fever Mission

Ahmed, still reeling from the emotional trauma of Empress Mella's party—where he had been hugged, teased, and turned into the unwilling mascot of high society—slumped onto his royal-sized bed in Duchess Clayra's lavish estate. His body ached, not from physical exertion but from the sheer frustration of being the universe's ultimate punching bag.

Just as he closed his eyes to finally get some rest—

[SYSTEM ALERT: PUNISHMENT ACTIVATED – FEVER MISSION ENGAGED!]

"...Huh?" Ahmed barely had time to process the words before—

🔥 BZZZZZT! 🔥 🔥 BZZZZZT! 🔥 🔥 BZZZZZT! 🔥 🔥 BZZZZZT! 🔥

A surge of heat spread through his entire body, his skin flushed, his forehead burned, and sweat poured down like a waterfall. His limbs trembled, his vision blurred, and his breathing became erratic.

"I—I have a fever?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, YOU STUPID SYSTEM?!!" Ahmed screamed, gripping his pillow as though strangling it would somehow hurt the intangible menace that had ruined his life.

[SYSTEM: Punishment implemented. Fever Mission: ESCAPE OR BURN. Timer set – 30 minutes. Failure to escape = MORE fever.]

"YOU'RE KILLING ME! YOU DEMONIC MALWARE!"

[SYSTEM: Incorrect. I am an 'Advanced Developmental Assistance Mechanism.' Your lack of faith in me is disappointing.]

"Advanced?! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A SADISTIC VIRUS!" Ahmed howled, gritting his teeth as his body twitched involuntarily. His once-bright mind, already teetering on the edge of madness, now operated at full rage mode.

But before he could launch another verbal attack—

[MISSION OBJECTIVE: Escape Clayra's Estate Before Timer Ends. If Caught, Penalty = Fever Level +50%.]

Ahmed's eyes went wide. He had half an hour to escape—or else he'd be roasted alive by his own burning body!

"Fine... If that's how you wanna play, SYSTEM... I'LL ESCAPE! JUST YOU WAIT!"

With one final burst of sheer spite, Ahmed flung himself off the bed and began his great escape.

II. Stealth Mode: Activate (or Fail Miserably)

Ahmed tiptoed through the dark corridors of the Duchess' estate, his mission clear: Get. Out. Alive.

His fevered brain barely functioned, but the fear of being turned into grilled chicken kept him moving. Despite his weakened state, every step felt like walking through molten lava. His legs wobbled beneath him, and his head spun with dizzying intensity. Still, he pressed on, determined to outsmart both the System and Clayra.

However...

[SYSTEM ALERT: Host's stealth level = 0. Warning: You are about as sneaky as a rhinoceros wearing tap shoes.]

"EXCUSE ME?!"

[SYSTEM: Even the dust particles in the air are stealthier than you. Try harder.]

Ahmed clenched his fists, ready to unleash another tirade against the System, but before he could, a sudden voice froze him in place.

"Oh? Where are you going, my cute little prince?"

II. Stealth Mode: Activate (or Fail Miserably) (Continued)

Ahmed froze mid-step, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. That voice—there was no mistaking it. It belonged to Duchess Clayra herself.

"Clayra..." Ahmed muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with equal parts fear and exasperation. "Why does this always happen to me?"

He turned slowly, trying—and failing—to look innocent. Clayra stood at the end of the corridor, her golden hair flowing like liquid sunlight, her crimson eyes gleaming with maternal concern—or perhaps something closer to predatory satisfaction. She crossed her arms, radiating an aura of authority that made Ahmed want to shrink into the shadows.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "My dear Ahmed, what are you doing wandering around at this hour? Aren't you feeling well?"

Ahmed's face flushed—not from fever this time, but from sheer embarrassment. He tried to play it cool, forcing a weak grin onto his face. "Oh, Momma! Just... taking a midnight stroll. You know, clearing my head after all those hugs from Empress Mella."

Clayra tilted her head, her expression softening—but not convincingly. "A midnight stroll? In your current condition? My sweet prince, you're burning up. Perhaps you should return to bed."

"No!" Ahmed blurted out, then quickly added, "I mean, I'm fine! Totally fine! Just needed some fresh air, that's all."

Clayra raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Fresh air? At this hour? In your nightclothes?" Her gaze swept over him, lingering on his disheveled appearance. "And why do you look like you've been wrestling with invisible enemies?"

Ahmed flinched. Had he really been flailing around so much while escaping earlier? The System must have been recording everything for future trolling purposes.

Before he could respond, Clayra took a step forward, her heels clicking ominously against the marble floor. "Come now, Ahmed. Let me help you back to bed before you hurt yourself."

"I DON'T NEED HELP!" Ahmed yelped, backing away instinctively. His movements were clumsy, his balance precarious due to the fever coursing through his veins. "I can handle this myself!"

Clayra sighed dramatically, shaking her head as if Ahmed were a particularly stubborn toddler. "Fine, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when you collapse halfway down the hall."

As she spoke, her hand reached toward him, glowing faintly with magical energy. Ahmed panicked. If she touched him, there was no way he'd escape without her noticing how hot he was. And once she realized he had a fever, it would only be a matter of seconds before she bundled him back into bed like a helpless infant.

"NO TOUCHING!" Ahmed shouted, stumbling backward. Unfortunately, his weakened state betrayed him, and he tripped over his own feet, landing hard on the ground with a loud thud.

[SYSTEM ALERT: -50 POINTS FOR CLUMSY ESCAPE ATTEMPT.]

"WHY AM I LOSING POINTS FOR BEING IN PAIN?!" Ahmed screamed, glaring daggers at the invisible System. Of course, it didn't respond—because why would it ever make sense?

Clayra approached cautiously, her expression shifting from amusement to genuine concern. "Ahmed, are you alright? Please let me check your temperature."

"I'M FINE!" Ahmed insisted, scrambling to his feet despite the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. "Really, Momma, I just need some space. Some... personal space."

Clayra's smile widened slightly, revealing just how amused she truly was. "Personal space? From me? Oh, Ahmed, we both know that ship sailed the moment I adopted you."

Before Ahmed could retort, Clayra snapped her fingers, summoning Liza, her stoic maid. Within moments, Liza appeared silently, her silver hair glinting in the moonlight streaming through the windows. Her expression remained neutral, but Ahmed knew better than to underestimate her.

"Liza," Clayra said smoothly, "could you please escort Ahmed back to his room? He seems determined to wander aimlessly in the middle of the night."

Liza inclined her head slightly, stepping forward with purposeful strides. Ahmed backed away instinctively, his panic growing with each passing second.

"Stay back, Liza!" Ahmed warned, raising his hands defensively. "You wouldn't dare try anything funny, would you?"

Liza stopped moving, her gaze unwavering. For a brief moment, Ahmed thought he might actually stand a chance. Then, without warning, she vanished.

"WHAT THE—"

WHOOSH!

Before Ahmed could finish his sentence, Liza reappeared behind him, grabbing him by the ankle with surprising speed. With a single motion, she flipped him upside-down, leaving him dangling helplessly in the air.

"H-Hey! Put me down, you evil maid!" Ahmed sputtered, flailing wildly. "This isn't fair!"

[SYSTEM ALERT: +100 POINTS FOR BEING A STRUGGLING FOOL.]

"YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS, AREN'T YOU, SYSTEM?!" Ahmed yelled, his voice muffled as blood rushed to his head. "YOU TRAITOR!"

Liza ignored his protests, carrying him effortlessly like a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile, Clayra watched from afar, her laughter echoing softly through the halls.

"Oh, my poor little prince," she cooed, wiping away an imaginary tear. "Such determination to escape, yet so hilariously ineffective."

Ahmed gritted his teeth, vowing revenge against both the System and Clayra. But for now, all he could do was hang there, suspended in mid-air, wondering how things had gone so wrong so quickly.

III. The Escape Sequence: Disaster Edition

Dangling upside-down wasn't exactly part of Ahmed's escape plan, but desperate times called for desperate measures. As Liza carried him deeper into the mansion, Ahmed wracked his feverish brain for ideas.

First idea: Kick Liza in the face.

Problem: Even in his best condition, Ahmed doubted he could land a hit on Liza. Now, with his strength sapped by fever, it felt like attempting to punch a brick wall with a marshmallow.

Second idea: Pretend to pass out.

Problem: Given his current state, pretending might not even be necessary. Besides, Clayra would probably use it as an excuse to tuck him into bed anyway.

Third idea: Call the System's bluff.

Problem: The System hadn't exactly proven itself trustworthy lately. Why would it suddenly start playing fair?

Despite these setbacks, Ahmed refused to give up. As Liza rounded a corner, he spotted an opportunity—a half-open window leading to the garden below. If he could somehow convince Liza to drop him near that window...

"Liza!" Ahmed called out, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. "Hey, uh... thanks for catching me earlier. You're really strong, you know that?"

Liza paused, tilting her head slightly. "Young master, is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No, no!" Ahmed stammered, trying to sound sincere. "I was just thinking... maybe you'd appreciate a break? After all, carrying me around like this must be exhausting."

If Liza found his attempt at flattery amusing, she didn't show it. Instead, she tightened her grip on his ankle, ensuring he couldn't squirm free. "If you wish to rest, young master, we shall arrive at your chambers shortly."

Ahmed groaned inwardly. Plan failed. Again.

But then, inspiration struck—or rather, desperation kicked in. Without another word, Ahmed began thrashing wildly, kicking his legs and swinging his arms like a marionette cut loose from its strings.

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU EVIL MAID! I DEMAND IT!"

Liza remained unfazed, though her pace quickened slightly. "My lady awaits us in your chambers, young master. We should hurry."

Ahmed's soul shattered. Not only had he failed to escape, but Clayra was waiting for him at the finish line. This was shaping up to be the worst night of his life.

IV. Dodging Obstacles (and More Maid Shenanigans)

The journey to Ahmed's chambers felt endless. Every step Liza took sent fresh waves of pain coursing through his body, making his already-blurry vision worse. Along the way, they encountered several obstacles—each one more ridiculous than the last.

Obstacle #1: A group of curious maids peeking around corners.

Solution: Liza casually tossed Ahmed over her shoulder, earning gasps of shock from the spectators.

Result: Ahmed earned 200 points for being publicly humiliated.

Obstacle #2: A mischievous cat darting across their path.

Solution: Ahmed accidentally kicked the cat during his frantic struggles, sending it flying into a nearby vase.

Result: The vase shattered spectacularly, and Ahmed lost 300 points for property damage.

Obstacle #3: An elderly nobleman shuffling down the hallway.

Solution: Liza performed a perfect pirouette, spinning Ahmed around so fast he nearly vomited.

Result: The nobleman stared wide-eyed at the spectacle, muttering something about "youth these days." Ahmed gained 400 points for unintentional comedy.

By the time they reached Ahmed's chambers, he was utterly drained. His muscles burned, his head spun, and his dignity lay scattered across the mansion like confetti at a wedding reception.

"You win, Liza," Ahmed admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just put me down already."

Liza obliged, setting him gently on his feet—but not before delivering a final blow. Literally. She gave him a light tap on the forehead, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"Sleep well, young master," she said coolly before disappearing into the shadows.

Ahmed groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "This is why I hate everyone."

V. Final Push: The Window of Opportunity

With time running out, Ahmed knew he couldn't afford to waste any more energy. Gathering what little strength he had left, he staggered toward the window he'd seen earlier. Maybe, just maybe, he could slip past Clayra and make a break for freedom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

As Ahmed neared the window, a familiar voice rang out behind him.

"AHMED!"

Clayra emerged from the shadows, her elegant gown flowing gracefully behind her. Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief, and her smile suggested she already knew exactly what he was planning.

"My darling, where do you think you're going?" she asked sweetly, though her tone carried an unmistakable edge of steel.

Ahmed froze, caught red-handed. "Uh... fresh air? Yes, fresh air! Doctors say it's good for fevers, right?"

Clayra chuckled softly, approaching him with slow, deliberate steps. "Doctors also say rest is crucial for recovery. Which is why I insist you come back to bed immediately."

"But Momma—" Ahmed protested, his voice cracking with exhaustion. "I can't stay here! I need to escape!"

Clayra tilted her head, her smile widening. "Escape? My sweet prince, you're too precious to lose. Whatever trouble you're trying to avoid, we'll face it together."

Ahmed blinked, momentarily thrown off by her sincerity. Was she serious? Or was this just another ploy to trap him?

No, he decided. Clayra was definitely enjoying this far too much.

Before he could argue further, Clayra waved her hand, conjuring a wave of magical energy that swept him off his feet. He floated helplessly in midair, unable to resist her telekinetic grip.

"Let me go, Momma!" Ahmed shouted, struggling futilely against the invisible force holding him captive. "I swear, if you don't stop this nonsense, I'll—"

"You'll what?" Clayra interrupted, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Hack me into oblivion? Burn down the mansion? Run away again?"

Ahmed clenched his fists, his rage boiling over. "YES! ALL OF IT! AND THEN SOME!"

Clayra simply laughed, her melodic giggles filling the air. "Oh, Ahmed, you're adorable when you're angry. Now, enough nonsense. Time for bed."

She guided him toward the bed, tucking him in with practiced ease. Despite his protests, Ahmed found himself enveloped in layers of soft blankets, cocooned like a caterpillar preparing for metamorphosis.

"This isn't over, Momma," Ahmed muttered darkly, glaring up at her. "One day, I'll get my revenge."

Clayra leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Of course, darling. Sweet dreams."

As she left the room, Ahmed slumped against the pillows, defeated. The timer on the Fever Mission ticked ominously in his mind, reminding him that failure loomed ever closer.

VI. The Ultimate Betrayal: The System's Final Laugh

When the clock struck zero, Ahmed braced himself for the inevitable punishment.

[SYSTEM ALERT: TIME'S UP.]

🔥 🔥 🔥

[SYSTEM: Fever Penalty +50% Activated.]

Ahmed collapsed onto the bed, his entire body consumed by searing heat. His vision swam, his thoughts blurred, and his world narrowed to a single point of agony.

"System..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with exhaustion. "Why... why do you hate me so much?"

The System responded with characteristic cruelty.

[SYSTEM: Because you're entertaining. Watching you suffer brings me joy.]

Ahmed wanted to scream, to curse, to destroy everything within reach. But all he could manage was a feeble whimper.

[SYSTEM: Congratulations, Host. You failed spectacularly. Have a nice nap.]

And with that, darkness claimed him.

Epilogue: Defeat and Ultimate Suffering

When Ahmed finally regained consciousness, he was swaddled in thick blankets, his cheeks flushed pink from fever. Clayra sat beside him, humming softly as she fed him spoonfuls of steaming soup.

"Rest, my sweet prince," she murmured, her voice soothing yet infuriating. "You'll feel better soon."

Ahmed groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "I hate you, Momma. I hate you so much."

Clayra chuckled, patting his head affectionately. "Love you too, Ahmed. Love you too."

In the background, the System cackled with glee.

[SYSTEM ALERT: HOST HAS SURVIVED ANOTHER EPIC FAILURE! REWARD: +1,000 POINTS FOR RESILIENCE.]

Ahmed rolled his eyes. "Resilience? Resilience?! You forced me into this mess, and now you're rewarding me for surviving it? What kind of logic is that?"

[SYSTEM: The same kind of logic that makes you cry over losing solitaire games.]

"SHUT UP, SYSTEM!"

Clayra glanced up, concerned. "Ahmed, who are you talking to?"

"No one, onaa," Ahmed mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. "Just... myself."

Clayra smiled knowingly. "Talking to yourself is perfectly normal when you're sick. Don't worry, darling. Everything will be okay."

Ahmed groaned, knowing full well that nothing would ever truly be okay again. Between Clayra's smothering affection, Liza's unrelenting efficiency, and the System's relentless trolling, his life had become a never-ending cycle of suffering and absurdity.

Still, deep down, Ahmed held onto hope. Someday, somehow, he'd find a way to turn the tables on them all. Until then, all he could do was endure.

And thus, Ahmed's saga of survival continued—one fever-ridden mission at a time.

End of Chapter