The Hub (2)

Aven and Ash soon led Eris away from the bustling market streets, taking a winding path through the quieter sections of the Hub. The pristine cityscape gave way to narrower alleys, where the towering structures pressed in close, creating an eerie sense of isolation.

After several turns, they reached a small, unmarked doorway embedded into a dull, slate-colored building. Aven rapped his knuckles twice against the door—sharp, deliberate. A moment later, something on the other side clicked, and the door swung open.

Eris followed them inside.

The lodge was nothing like the polished, unnatural streets outside. The interior had a worn look, as if it had actually been lived in—wooden crates stacked in the corners, faded cushions on a sunken couch, and a table cluttered with papers, maps, and a few glowing trinkets. It felt real, a stark contrast to the sterile, fabricated perfection of the Hub.

Three people were waiting inside.

One of them, a woman with sharp, silver eyes and deep auburn hair tied back in a loose braid, leaned against the table. She exuded authority, the kind that came from experience rather than force. She studied Eris with a gaze that felt too knowing, as if she had already unraveled everything about her.

"Eris Vale," she said, her voice even. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Eris stiffened. "You know me?"

The woman smirked. "I know of you. Everyone who survives their first trial gets noticed."

She gestured for Eris to sit. The others remained where they were—one, a broad-shouldered man with dark skin and wary eyes, stood near a weapons rack, inspecting a dagger. The other, a slim girl with ink-stained fingers, was flipping through a notebook, barely sparing Eris a glance.

"I'm Lirian," the leader said. "We're one of the few groups who've lasted long enough to make sense of this place. That doesn't mean we have all the answers—but we have more than most."

Lirian's gaze lingered on Eris for a moment before she continued . "You've already met Ash and Aven. The others here have their own reasons for being in this nightmare." She gestured toward the broad-shouldered man who had been inspecting a dagger.

"That's Orin. He's a weapons specialist, though the System doesn't recognize that as an ability. He's survived two trials and has a habit of making sure we don't walk into fights unprepared."

Orin looked up, his dark eyes steady as he assessed Eris. He gave a slow nod—acknowledgment, not friendliness—before returning to his weapon.

Lirian moved on. "The one drowning in ink over there is Saria."

The slim girl barely looked up from her notebook, where she was scribbling something in cramped, hurried script. Her dark brown hair was cut short, strands falling over her eyes as she muttered something under her breath.

"Saria tracks patterns. Rules. System inconsistencies. She's the reason we've figured out even half of what we know."

Saria finally looked up, her gaze sharp despite the dark circles under her eyes. "Don't expect miracles," she said flatly. "The System's logic is inconsistent, and every trial changes the rules."

Eris didn't respond, unsure whether that was meant to be a warning or just a statement of fact.

Lirian's fingers drummed against the table before she nodded toward the last person in the room—a young man sitting near the far wall, arms crossed, watching everything in silence.

"And that's Revka."

Unlike the others, Revka's expression held no particular interest in Eris. His pale gray eyes were unreadable, his dark skin marked with faint scars across his jaw. He didn't speak, only offered a faint smirk before looking away again.

Lirian sighed. "Revka has his own approach to survival. Don't trust him too quickly."

Revka let out a quiet chuckle but said nothing.

Eris glanced between them. Five survivors, all different, all shaped by the same brutal trials. The air in the room felt heavy—not hostile, but not welcoming either.

They had all been through something. And now, so had she.

Eris sat, but her shoulders remained tense. "Then can you please tell me what I don't know?"

Lirian leaned back. "The game opens every fifty years. New participants. New trials. And no way out except forward."

That much, Eris had suspected. But hearing it confirmed sent a chill down her spine.

"The System keeps strict control over this space," Lirian continued. "No outside interference. No way to break the rules—at least, none that we've found. It rejects most artifacts, magic, and outside forces unless they meet certain conditions."

Eris frowned. "But why? What does the System want?"

Lirian's expression darkened. "That's the question, isn't it? No one knows. What we do know is that this game lasts five trials. And once someone reaches the fifth…"

She exhaled.

"They disappear."

Eris's breath hitched. "Disappear?"

"No traces. No messages. No signs of struggle. The moment the final results come out, they're gone." Lirian's silver eyes flickered. "We assume they're free. That they've gotten whatever reward they chose when they first stepped into this nightmare."

A heavy silence followed.

Eris glanced at Ash and Aven, but neither looked surprised. This wasn't new to them.

Lirian tapped a finger against the table. "Most of us came here for something. Power. Healing. A second chance at something we lost." Her gaze sharpened. "You, Eris—you chose power, didn't you?"

Eris hesitated, then nodded.

Lirian studied her for a long moment, then exhaled.

"Then you'd better learn fast. Because in this place, power alone won't be enough to survive."

---

Then Lirian leaned back in her chair, studying Eris' reaction with that same measured gaze. Then, she glanced at Aven. "You explain the rest."

Aven sighed but didn't argue. She shifted, resting her arms against the table as she turned toward Eris. "Alright, listen up. The trials happen every three months. Once the countdown resets, the next stage begins."

Eris frowned. "Three months? That's… not much time."

"Depends on how you use it," Aven said. "This place—this Hub—isn't just a waiting room. It's where we train, do quests, earn coins, and prepare. People take on all kinds of side missions—some fight monsters, some trade, some gamble, and others… well, they kill to get ahead."

Eris stiffened at that last part, but Aven continued.

"It's all about survival. Strength, resources, connections—you need them all. And sometimes, people don't do their trials alone."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Ash, who had been quiet, cut in. "You saw how Aven carried us through this trial, right? That kind of thing happens often. Stronger participants take others through their trials. In our case, I was the one who hired her. You just happened to join our team "

Eris's brows furrowed. "So… if someone helps you clear a trial, does that mean they advance too?"

Aven shook his head. "No. The trials you personally survive each three months are what count toward your five. If you help someone else through theirs, it only gives you experience, rewards, and coins—it doesn't increase your trial count."

Eris mulled over this new information. That meant someone could theoretically keep training, taking part in trials as support without progressing their own count, until they were fully prepared.

She exhaled. "So, you can either jump straight into your next trial every three months… or spend time getting stronger before then."

Aven nodded. "Exactly."

Before Eris could ask anything else, Lirian raised a hand. "You'll figure out more as time goes on. The rules are one thing, but experience? That's what really matters here."

Her silver eyes met Eris's, steady and unwavering. "Theories won't save you. Understanding the System won't either—not on its own. You need to live through it, make the right choices, and know when to act."

A weighted silence followed.

Eris slowly nodded. The more she learned, the more she realized how little she truly knew.

And in this place, ignorance could kill.

Silence reigned for a while while the others were engrossed in whatever they were doing.

Eris exhaled slowly, rubbing at her temple. The weight of everything she'd learned pressed down on her, exhaustion creeping in from the edges of her mind. She had been holding on, absorbing information, pushing past her limits—but she was tired. More than tired.

She needed to go home.

"I… I should leave," she murmured.

The others didn't react with surprise. Ash simply nodded, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. "Makes sense. The first time's always the hardest."

Eris hesitated. "But I need to come back." Her fingers curled slightly. "I can't afford to waste time. If I'm going to survive this thing, I need to train."

"How do I return here?"

Ash shifted, glancing at Aven, who took the lead in answering. "System notifications," she said. "They show up in two places—the real world and the Hub. But not in the realms we get thrown into during trials."

Eris frowned. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means that when you're back home, you can still interact with the System in small ways," Aven explained. "You can check your status, view your inventory, and use anything you've already gotten here. But certain transactions—like purchases or major skill upgrades—can only happen when you return."

Eris absorbed that carefully. That meant she wouldn't be completely helpless back home. She could study what she had, make plans.

"What about time?" she asked.

Ash shrugged. "The realms are different. Time there is unpredictable but in real time, every trial consumes just fifteen minutes and for the Hub—every three hours spent here equals fifteen minutes in the real world."

Her stomach clenched. That meant she could spend entire days here without much time passing outside.

She exhaled, nodding. "Alright."

Aven gestured toward her. "Go ahead. Open your notifications."

Eris lifted her hand, and with a thought, the translucent interface flickered to life in front of her. She scrolled, following Aven's instructions until she found it—

Would you like to return home now?

Yes / No

Her hand hovered for a moment. Then, without another word, she clicked Yes.

The world around her blurred.

And then she was gone.