A Broken Vase

August 2, 2027

The classroom fan whirred lazily, doing little to combat the midday heat. Alan Woods dozed upright at his desk, his cheek smushed against a half-solved math problem. 

"ALAN!" The teacher's ruler slammed onto his desk. "Explain why x equals negative two in this equation!" 

Alan blinked awake. "Because… it's sad?" 

The class erupted into stifled giggles. Even his ever-patient deskmate, shook his head. "Dude, just try. Math won't bite."

"It does," Alan grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Bayu, you know right numbers are my kryptonite. Just give me a soccer ball any day." 

The gaming console hummed between them as Bayu ranted about the rising price of Bakso. "That's daylight robbery!"

Alan chuckled.

*Something's off.* 

On his walk home, golden rice fields stretched under the sunset—idyllic, serene.

*Am I missing something?* 

At the roadside stall, he bought chicken noodles for his mom. *She'll smile*, he thought. *She always does.* 

The scent of fried shallots filled the kitchen as Alan's mom accepted the takeout. "You remembered!" Her grin crinkled her eyes—just like Dad's used to. 

Alan stared flowers in a glass flower vase . "Hey, Mom… why'd we move to this country?"

She paused mid-slurp. "Cheaper living. Easier visas. And—" She flicked his nose—"best tempeh on Earth. Your dad loved it."

Alan saw his reflection in the glass flower vase.

*Why it's like i have forgot something important?* 

The next morning, Alan's sneakers scuffed the same cracked pavement. The same stray dog barked. The same sun blazed. 

*What am I missing?*

Then The ground betrayed him.

A shattering sound echoed from his house—the glass flower vase, breaking. 

The realization struck as the ground swallowed him whole, *Ah.... Right, I forgot. I forgot to be grateful for how beautiful my peaceful life is.*

Level 4 – "Abandoned Office"

"—lan! Alan!" Handy's masked face loomed overhead. "Welcome to Level 4. Home sweet hellhole."

Alan groaned, touching his bandaged chest. The office around him was dilapidated but intact—yellowed cubicles, flickering monitors. *Not a dream. Not home.* 

"Home...." Alan's voice cracked. "I want to go home...."

Handy's grip tightened on his shoulder. "The H.D.F did find a way back. We'll retrace their steps."

Rusha arrived with a wheezing med-bot. It chanted in mechanical gibberish, spewing glowing mist over Alan's wound. Flesh knitted itself together. 

"Magic?" Alan gasped. 

"Science dressed as magic," Handy corrected. "Humans need artifacts or—"

"—blue runes," Rusha cut in, twirling her scythe (which had definitely been pocket-sized moments ago). "Like this legendary artifact—Silver Scythe!"

Alan deadpanned. "You named it that?"

In the equipment room, Alan palmed a small fabric pouch. "Its named distorting pocket?"

"Try it, This holds a fridge" Rusha urged. 

He stuffed a chair inside. The pouch didn't bulge. 

"Black-hole fashion," Alan muttered, tying it to his belt. 

"I think Handy wants to talk to me for a bit, just try other equipment!" Rusha left Alan inside.

Outside, Handy talked to Rusha: "The Enjoyer, an entity that should be in high level, we found it in Level 2."

"Wait what? that's not make any sense!" Rusha replied. 

"That's it! I'm about to go to H.D.F outpost here to report this anomaly activity, I'll leave you two here at least for two hours."

Rusha stepped back into the equipment room, her rabbit mask tilting as she surveyed Alan examining the Distorting Pocket. "Handy had to leave for a bit. Some...uh, art supplies he needed to pick up." The lie tasted clumsy on her tongue.

Alan's fingers tightened around the pocket. His posture had changed—shoulders rigid, eyes darting toward the door. "Hey Rusha," he began, voice too casual, "how exactly do we get to Level 5 from here?"

"Oh!" Rusha brightened, twirling her scythe. "Easy! Exit doors sometimes spawn near the fire escapes. They'll have Pipes or Maintenance signs—just make sure it's not the one that—" She stopped. "Wait. Why?"

Alan was already moving toward the exit. "Bathroom break. Drank too much Almond Water."

"O-oh!" Rusha pointed down the hall. "It's to the right, not left!"

The door clicked shut behind him.

Three hours later, Handy stormed back into the outpost, his hoodie splattered with something black and viscous. "Where's Alan?"

Rusha looked up from polishing her scythe. "Toilet? Maybe? He did ask about Level 5 earlier—"

"He WHAT?" Handy's mask emitted a sound like a deflating balloon. "And you told him?!"

"I may have...mentioned the exit doors?" Rusha's voice shrank. "But he promised it was just for pee!"

Handy's gloves creaked as he clenched his fists. "He's a teenager, Rusha. 'Just for pee' is code for 'bye bitch, my trip my adventure!'"

"Gear up," Handy growled, tossing her a pocket. "If he's dumb enough to chase Level 5 alone, he's dumb enough to trip into the territory of that monster."

Meanwhile, Alan stood before a rusted metal door.

The Distorting Pocket hung heavy at his hip, now stuffed with:

- Two canteens of Almond Water (stolen from the supply closet).

- A first-aid kit (with "FOR EMERGENCIES, NOT YOUR STUPIDITY" scribbled on it).

- The Emergency Axe he brought since on Level 0

"Leo Mercer found a way home," Alan whispered, flexing his still-sparking fingers. "So will I."

Alan stepped through.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Level 5 : "Terror Hotel"

Alan stood before Level 5's threshold—a hotel lobby frozen in the 1930s, its chandeliers dripping with dust.

Alan walked straight into the main hall, seeing a fancy lobby filled with expensive furniture. A tape recorder clung to a pillar.

"Oh yeah, must be another yapping tape of him, here we go again."

With a playful face Alan hit play with a single slap.

"...You idiot." Leo Mercer's voice snarled

Alan's eyes widened after hearing an unexpected words with angry tone.

"Do you know how idiot you are? I think even monkey now has better IQ than you."

Alan's mind were filled with confusion "W-wait! Wha-, What i have done that make you this angry!?"

"After all my warnings about a bunch of danger things, you stepped your foot here? Alone? If you are looking for a pile of gold here to get rich, give up. gold in this world are totally useless, Turn. Back. Now."

Alan turned and realized the door was gone. Alan was sweating so hard, his heart was beating hard, and his breath became heavier. 

Leo's voice turned grim: "Hey. If you are still here, let's say the door is disappear... Now you better follow the manual behind the tape. And find the safe route before you meet h-"

The tape dissolved into static.