Adaptive Frustrations

I was sitting in the eating room on an uncomfortable, cold chair—one of the few things I'd learned about these pathetic living things on this planet: they have neither a taste for good architecture nor for food. I was so close to puking. The meal tasted exactly like bat soup. (Not that I'd ever eaten bat soup—and I wouldn't in the future either, unless I planned on starting a pandemic worldwide.) At least the water was normal; I gulped a few swigs, silently thanking whatever god cared about liquid refreshment.

While trying to suppress the urge to hurl, I checked my monograph for the reward I'd received after completing the task. The display blinked into view, its cold, mechanical tone inescapable in my mind:

Task Completion Grade: C

Task Reward: Adaptive Armor

A grade of C made my stomach twist worse than the food ever could. I couldn't help feeling a sting of embarrassment—back in school, I'd never been so humiliated when everyone else got an A and I got left with scraps. I forced myself to keep a neutral expression, not wanting anyone to notice how pissed I was at the "system."

Across the table, I noticed the siblings in front of me. They, too, had given up on swallowing the revolting food and were busy checking their rewards.

"Thadric, what grade did you get? Mine is an A," Anys asked, though her tone carried a hint of challenge.

Thadric replied coolly, not bothering to flex but with a slight air of smugness, "Mine is an S grade. Probably because I was the one who gave him the last strike."

I swallowed my cough and prayed desperately that my face wouldn't turn red. I really wanted to give the "system" a good curse session—but first, I had to check my own reward.

I pulled up the details for the Adaptive Armor:

Adaptive Armor Attribute: Self-learning defense system that, as it takes damage, analyzes the impact, reinforces the weakened areas, and strengthens itself to become more resilient against future attacks.

Defense Status: None 

I muttered under my breath, "The fuck do I need armor for when it doesn't even defend me at first? How in the hell am I supposed to survive until it strengthens itself?" My teeth clenched in anger as I gritted them.

Before I could stew any longer, I felt a sudden, invasive heat near my face. Anys had moved in close—so close that I could feel her hot breath against my skin. I jerked my head back just enough to avoid toppling off the chair, which, by the way, still offered no warmth to my frozen body.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she teased, her voice warm and playful. "You want to bite me too, like that bastard in the arena?"

She punctuated her words with a smirk and a suggestive glint in her eyes—a sexual joke that was as funny as it was disarming. I felt my cheeks burn and was at a loss for words.

Then came a bombshell: Thadric, the younger one of the siblings—yes, the younger of the two, which completely shocked me when he mentioned it after the system kicked us out of the arena. He didn't seem to care at all about whatever Anys had done a moment ago; instead, his attention was entirely on his glasses. They looked expensive—sleek black frames with a subtle silver tint that made them look like a high-tech accessory straight out of a sci-fi thriller. I knew they were probably part of his S-grade reward. I didn't dare ask him about them—not because I wasn't curious, but because if I did, he'd ask me about my C-grade reward, and I wasn't about to embarrass myself further.

After that awkward conversation, we were all assigned rooms in the skyscraper. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to leave or even approach the exit without confronting the guards. It was as if they didn't want us to have any contact with the outside world. I hated two things in this godforsaken place: bad food and being imprisoned. And here I was, trapped with both.

I lay on my bed later, my eyelids growing heavy. But before sleep could claim me completely, I needed some answers. I was lucky enough to have a friend on this planet—even if he did bully me sometimes. I glanced at the tattoo on my right hand—a middle finger shaped tattoo pointed directly at me, a constant reminder of both defiance and the irony of my situation.

Ignoring the tattoo, I summoned my spear. "Astral," I called silently, willing the familiar presence to materialize in my hand. The spear appeared, cool and comforting against my skin. I couldn't tell if it felt heavier than before or if I was just utterly exhausted.

I took a long, slow look at it. Astral was sleek and angular—its blade a combination of dark, metallic shades with intricate engravings along the length. Faint glows of blue and green traced the patterns, giving it an almost otherworldly appearance.

As I admired its craftsmanship, the annoying, snarky voice of the spear cut through my thoughts.

"Finally decided to grace me with your attention, did you? I was starting to think you forgot how to summon me," it said, dripping with sarcasm.

I grumbled inwardly, "Not in the mood, Astral."

But the spear wasn't finished. "Oh, come on, Light, why do you guys on Earth lack taste for humour?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. "So you know I'm from Earth, huh? How exactly do you know that?"

There was a long pause, the silence almost deafening. Finally, Astral replied, "Duh, it's written all over you, genius. Actually, my last owner told me a lot of things about Earth, a long time ago. But I can't tell you any more—I have my restrictions, you know."

I frowned. Restrictions? How in the hell can a weapon have restrictions programmed into it? I couldn't help but wonder at the absurdity of it all. Reading my mind, the spear added, "Well… actually, I wouldn't define myself as a weapon."

That caught me off guard. "How so?" I asked, genuinely curious.

But the spear said nothing more. I didn't press the issue—I knew too well what it felt like to be pressured, like those dreadful school lectures where I had to solve math problems in front of the entire class. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Eventually, my eyelids became too heavy to fight off, and I sank into a deep, much-needed sleep.