Survive. Adapt. Evolve.

Adam sat against the wall, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, yet his mind refused to grant him rest. The eerie silence outside lingered like a phantom pressing against the walls of his apartment, but inside, there was another battle - one between suspicion and trust.

Eight hours had passed. Adam had kept a close watch on Emily, his grip tight around the cold handle of his knife, prepared for the worst. But nothing happened. No fever, no violent convulsions, no sign of her turning into one of those things outside. As the first light of dawn crept in, he knew - if they were going to move, now was the time.

She was asleep for now.

Adam rubbed his face with his palm, letting out a deep sigh. He wasn't proud of keeping her tied up for so long, but he couldn't afford to be careless. If she had turned, he would've had no choice but to handle it before she could attack him. The weight of that possibility still made his stomach churn. But now, as he observed her steady breathing and peaceful expression, a different emotion clawed at his chest - guilt.

She stirred, her eyelashes fluttering open as her hazel eyes met his. For a moment, there was only drowsiness, but then she remembered her situation. Her body tensed.

"Adam," she rasped, her voice dry and weak. "Please, untie me. If I were going to turn into one of those things, it would have happened by now."

He hesitated a little but admitted, "You haven't changed, Not even a fever."

Her gaze softened, relief washing over her face. "That's because I told you the truth."

Without a word, he reached for her bound hands, carefully slicing through the tape with his knife. As her arms and legs came free, faint red marks remained on her skin. Emily flexed her wrists, hissing softly before giving him a tired but grateful look.

"Thanks," she spoke with a face of relief.

He nodded but didn't say anything as he stood and walked to the small cabinet where he kept his first aid supplies. Pulling out a strip of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic, he returned to her side.

"Hold still," he instructed, kneeling beside her.

She barely reacted as he carefully rolled up her jeans, revealing the bandaged wound on her shin. A small bloodstain marked the fabric, but the injury looked better than before. Adam unwrapped the bandage, cleaned the wound, and gently applied antiseptic, being as careful as he could.

"You're not as rude as you act," Emily said with a small smile, watching him.

Adam didn't reply, staying focused. Once he was sure the wound was clean, he wrapped it in fresh bandages, making sure they were snug but not too tight.

Adam walked over to his small stash of supplies, grabbing the last remaining energy bar and a bottle of water. He tossed them onto her lap.

"Eat."

Emily blinked at the offering before looking up at him in surprise. "You're giving me your food?"

"Just don't expect more," he muttered, sitting back down.

She unwrapped the bar carefully, taking small bites as if savouring every crumb. Adam watched out of the corner of his eye, wondering how the hell he had gone from suspecting her to feeding her within a single night. He told himself it was just logic, she wouldn't be any use to him if she was too weak to move, he thought while eating from a bag of chips.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. For now, Emily was not a threat. That was the best outcome he could've hoped for.

Yet as the minutes ticked by, that silence outside remained unbroken, weighing heavily on his mind.

Then, it happened.

A voice, deep and resonant, yet completely unnatural, echoed through the world. It wasn't coming from the streets, nor from any speaker or device. It was everywhere. Inside his head. Outside in the air. Vibrating through his very bones.

"ATTENTION INHABITANTS OF PLANET A326."

Adam recoiled, nearly knocking over his chair. Emily's eyes widened in terror, her mouth parting as if to scream, but no sound came out.

"A TUTORIAL IS NOW IN PROGRESS. ALL SURVIVORS ARE ADVISED TO ADAPT IMMEDIATELY. FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN ELIMINATION."

Adam's pulse pounded in his ears. He gripped the edge of the table, grounding himself against the dizziness washing over him.

"What the hell?" His own voice sounded foreign, distant.

Emily was trembling. "Is this… some kind of sick joke?"

Neither of them had time to answer. The air shimmered, rippling as if reality itself were a pond disturbed by a stone. Then, as if a curtain had been pulled away, glowing symbols flooded their vision. Floating, shifting text, written in no language Adam had ever seen—yet somehow, his brain interpreted it with terrifying clarity.

[Tutorial Phase Initiated]

Planet: A326

Objective: Survive. Adapt. Evolve.

Failure Condition: Death.

Adam's hands clenched into fists. His throat was dry, his mind reeling. The infected. The sudden breakdown of society. And now… this?

Emily gasped, eyes darting frantically as if trying to physically escape the glowing words in front of her. "No… this isn't real. This isn't happening."

Adam wished he could deny it too. He wished he could pretend this was all a fever dream. But he had seen too much already. The world had crumbled overnight, and now some… entity was treating it like a game?

He forced himself to take a slow breath. If this was real, if they were truly part of some twisted "tutorial", then panicking wouldn't do any good.

Survive. Adapt. Evolve.

Adam and Emily sat in tense silence, the weight of the announcement still pressing down on them.

A tutorial? On planet A326?

Neither of them had ever heard those words before, at least not in a context like this. The world had gone to hell, creatures roamed the streets, and now some… presence had declared a tutorial?

Emily was the first to break the silence. "Did you hear that too?"

Adam nodded slowly. "Loud and clear."

They stared at each other, confusion mixing with unease.

"This.. this doesn't make any sense," Emily murmured, rubbing her arms as if trying to shake off a deep chill. "Who, or what was that? It didn't sound human."

Adam frowned, replaying the voice in his mind. It had been emotionless, mechanical. Neither male nor female, but something inhumanly precise.

"It sounded like…" he hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Like a system message. You know, in games."

Emily blinked. "A game?"

"No, not exactly. But think about it, a 'tutorial'? That means something is starting, right? And the way it announced 'planet A326'… like Earth is just some numbered world in a catalogue."

Emily hugged herself tighter. "That's insane."

"Yeah, well, so is whatever's happening outside."

She didn't argue.

They both fell into a heavy silence again, listening. The streets were still eerily quiet, the earlier chaos reduced to nothingness. No gunfire, no growls. No screams.

Adam swallowed hard. His survival instincts screamed at him that this wasn't right. The infected outside had been raging just hours ago. Now? Nothing. Not a single sound.

Then -

A sharp, blinding light seared across his vision. His breath hitched as a translucent interface materialized before his eyes, filled with strange, glowing text.

[Welcome, Participant.]

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as the words rearranged themselves.

[Your Profile is ready.]

His stomach twisted.

He turned to Emily, his throat dry. "Emily…"

She looked up at him, her face pale as a sheet.

"…I see it too," she whispered.

Adam blinked hard as the glowing interface flickered before his eyes. His pulse quickened, a sense of unease settling in his gut.

[System Initialization Complete]

[Welcome, Adam Wright, to Planet A326's Tutorial]

[Trait Acquired: Gambler's Mind]

His breath hitched as the words hovered before him, surreal yet undeniable. He hesitated before focusing on the next lines, his vision adjusting to the unnatural clarity of the text.

[Gambler's Mind] — A trait that enables the user to remain unnaturally calm in high-stakes situations and instinctively make choices with the best odds of survival. The more significant the risk, the greater the potential reward.]

"What the hell…" he muttered under his breath.