Azrael's Reawakening

A faint beeping sound echoed in Azrael's ears.

His body felt light—too light. The last thing he remembered was the swords coming down, the cold touch of stone against his back, and then… nothing.

His eyelids fluttered open. Bright white lights stung his vision, forcing him to squint. The air smelled sterile, like disinfectant and medicine. His fingers twitched against soft sheets, and as his senses slowly adjusted, he realized—

He was in a hospital.

Azrael's breath hitched as he sat up too quickly, his body tensing in instinctive fear. His hands reached for his chest, expecting pain, expecting wounds—expecting to be dead. But there was nothing. No injuries, no scars, nothing to even suggest he had been on the verge of death.

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

The door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, holding a clipboard. She had short brown hair and a polite smile, the kind that felt too normal for the madness Azrael had just been through.

"Ah, you're awake," she said with a relieved expression. "How are you feeling?"

Azrael's mind was still reeling, but he forced himself to speak. "I—I'm fine," he stammered, before shaking his head. "Wait. Where was I found?"

The nurse glanced at her notes. "You were discovered just outside the dungeon gate. A patrol team brought you here. You were unconscious, but surprisingly, you had no major injuries."

Azrael's heart stopped.

The dungeon gate? But that didn't make sense. He had been inside the dungeon, pinned down by statues, ready to be executed—

His hands trembled. Was it all a nightmare? No, it couldn't have been. It felt too real. The terror, the betrayal, the coldness of the altar beneath him—it was real.

The nurse gave him a reassuring nod before stepping toward the door. "I'll let the doctor know you're awake. If you need anything, just press the call button." With that, she walked out, leaving Azrael alone in the silent hospital room.

He exhaled, pressing a hand against his forehead.

"What the hell is happening…?"

And then—

A screen appeared.

It materialized out of thin air, glowing bright blue, hovering directly in front of him.

> [Welcome, Player Azrael Michael.]

His blood ran cold.

Words? Floating in the air? Like some kind of game interface?

Before he could even process it, another set of text popped up.

> [Displaying Player Status…]

His eyes darted over the screen as a list of stats appeared.

> Level: 1

Strength: 2

Agility: 3

Endurance: 2

Mana: 1

Overall Rank: Worthless

Azrael's jaw clenched.

Worthless.

A bitter laugh nearly escaped him, but before he could even react, a new notification flashed.

> [Daily Quest: Training Regimen]

100 Push-ups

100 Sit-ups

10 KM Run

Failure to complete will result in immediate punishment.

Azrael's brows furrowed. Punishment?

A countdown timer appeared below the quest details, starting at 30 seconds.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered.

The numbers ticked down.

29… 28… 27…

Azrael hesitated. Maybe this was some weird hallucination? Maybe he was still dreaming? He reached out toward the screen, but his fingers passed through like it was made of light.

20… 19… 18…

Something about this felt wrong. A deep, gut-wrenching feeling crawled up his spine.

10… 9… 8…

And then everything shifted.

Azrael's vision warped—

The hospital room vanished.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in an endless, desert-like wasteland.

The air was hot, dry. The sun burned high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked earth. His breath came out in uneven gasps.

What… what just happened?!

Then he heard it.

A sickening, chittering noise.

Azrael turned around—and froze.

A horde of giant spiders emerged from the dunes, their bodies towering over him, their glistening fangs dripping with venom. Their black, beady eyes locked onto him as their long, spindly legs moved with terrifying speed.

His heart stopped.

And then—

They charged.

Adrenaline exploded through Azrael's veins as he turned and ran.

The ground beneath his feet cracked as he sprinted as fast as he could, his survival instincts kicking in at full force. Dust and sand whipped around him as his legs burned with exertion, but the spiders were gaining on him.

One leapt forward—

Azrael barely dodged, rolling to the side, but another lunged.

A sharp pain ripped through his back as a spider's leg slashed across him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

He gasped, coughing up blood. His vision blurred as he struggled to get up—

But before he could move—

The spiders swarmed.

Sharp fangs sank into his flesh. His screams were drowned out by the sickening sounds of tearing and ripping.

Pain exploded through his entire body. He felt his bones snap, his skin being torn apart.

And then—

Everything went black.

—

Azrael's eyes snapped open.

He was back in the hospital.

His body was completely intact. Not a single wound, not a single mark.

His breathing was erratic, his hands shaking violently. He looked down at himself, patting his arms, his chest, his legs—he had just died.

He felt it.

He knew it.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind still processing the horrific pain he had just gone through.

Then, the blue screen reappeared.

> [Death Penalty Applied. Daily Quest Must Be Completed.]

Azrael swallowed hard. His fingers curled into fists.

He didn't know what this was.

He didn't know why this was happening.

But one thing was clear.

If he didn't do what the screen said—

He would die.

Without wasting another second, Azrael threw off the hospital sheets and stumbled toward the window. His breath was ragged, his mind in overdrive. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He had to run.

He climbed out and bolted.

—

Elsewhere…

Anna sat alone in a dimly lit office, gripping her hands together so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

Her mind replayed the scene over and over.

The dungeon.

The door.

Azrael being left behind.

The statues coming to life.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She had lied.

She had told the Guild that everyone had died to a monstrous spider boss.

That there was no secret chamber.

That Azrael had been lost like the rest.

Guilt churned in her stomach, suffocating her.

"…I'm sorry," she whispered, but the words felt hollow.

Because deep down—

She knew that if Azrael was still alive…

He would never forgive her.