Hero Team

Sunny sat cross-legged on the bed, examining his status window.

[NAME: SUNNY NIMBRIL] 

[CLASS: FALLEN] 

[LEVEL: 3]

[HP: 120/120] 

[MP: 320/320] 

[STRENGTH: 8] 

[AGILITY: 10] 

[INTELLIGENCE: 12] 

[WISDOM: 10] 

[STAMINA: 12]

[CREDITS: 208,675]

[UNIQUE SKILL: VOID ABSORPTION (27% UNLOCKED)] 

[ACTIVE SKILLS: NONE] 

[PASSIVE SKILLS: PAIN TOLERANCE LVL.3, ENDURANCE LVL.2, TOXIC RESISTANCE LVL.3, ACID IMMUNITY LVL.1]

[SOCIAL CONNECTIONS: GAMMA TEAM (TRUSTED ASSOCIATES)]

Significant progress in just one week. At this rate, he'd reach Player registration funds in about a month—if he survived.

His phone buzzed. A message from Mina:

_Back in the city for guild business. Can we meet? I'm worried about you._

He hadn't spoken to her since the cemetery. Part of him wanted to ignore the message, to keep his distance until he was strong enough. But another part—the part that remembered what it was like to be normal—made him type a response:

_Tomorrow night. The Crossroads Café at 8. If I'm still alive._

He hit send before he could reconsider, immediately regretting the dramatic final sentence. She'd ask questions he wasn't ready to answer.

His shadow stretched across the wall, more substantial than ever. Sometimes, when he wasn't focusing on it, he could swear it moved independently of him—reaching, grasping.

"What are you?" he asked the darkness.

No response came, but the shadow seemed to pulse once, as if acknowledging the question.

He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow's "special assignment" concerned him. If SEM had noticed his abilities, had others? Was he still flying under the radar of the Player Guilds and Hero Organizations?

As he drifted toward sleep, his shadow spread across the room, covering the walls and ceiling like a living shroud.

And just before consciousness faded, he heard it again—clearer this time:

"You are not too bad partner."

His eyes snapped open, but the voice was gone. Only the distant sound of city traffic and his own breathing broke the silence.

But now he was certain.

He wasn't alone in his body anymore.

---

Sunny arrived at the Admin building at 4:55 AM, his nerves on edge. The emergency beacon Miller had given him pressed against his thigh in his pocket, a cold reminder of potential danger.

The building stood separate from the main SEM facility—sleek glass and metal compared to the utilitarian concrete of the locker rooms and disposal bays. Inside, a receptionist with unnaturally perfect posture looked up as he entered.

"Nimbril?" she asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"That's me."

"Eighth floor. Room 803."

The elevator ride felt longer than it should have. He checked his stats again, a nervous habit he'd developed over the past week.

Not impressive by Player standards, but far better than when he started.

Room 803 turned out to be a conference room. Inside, Walsh sat with a man in an expensive suit. The stranger's eyes flicked over Sunny with clinical detachment, like a butcher assessing a cut of meat.

"This is him?" the man asked Walsh.

"Yes, sir. Our top performer this month."

The man gestured to an empty chair. "Sit."

Sunny sat, his shadow rippling subtly beneath him.

"I'm Director Pierce," the man said. "You've drawn attention, Mr. Nimbril. Seven monster kills in your first week. Most cleaners don't get that many in their first year."

Sunny shrugged. "Lucky, I guess."

Pierce's smile didn't reach his eyes. "We don't believe in luck at SEM. We believe in opportunity and exploitation."

He slid a tablet across the table. On it was a contract, already filled with Sunny's information.

"We've been contracted to provide support personnel for a Hero Guild operation. Specifically, they requested someone with... unusual aptitude."

Sunny's blood ran cold. "Support personnel?"

"A porter," Walsh clarified. "You'll carry equipment, set up camp, handle basic tasks."

"For heroes," Sunny said flatly.

"For the Radiant Dawn Guild," Pierce corrected. "They've taken an interest in the Level 5 dungeon that appeared in the industrial district last week."

They wanted him to work with heroes, after what happened to him?

"No," he said, pushing away from the table. "Find someone else."

Pierce's expression hardened. "This isn't a request, Mr. Nimbril. It's an assignment. One that pays triple the standard rate."

"I'm not interested."

"Your contract with SEM includes a clause about special assignments," Pierce continued as if Sunny hadn't spoken. "Refusal means termination—and blacklisting from all cleanup crews in the city."

Sunny clenched his fists under the table. His shadow darkened, spreading outward like spilled ink.

[WARNING: EMOTIONAL DISTRESS DETECTED] 

[VOID ABSORPTION RESPONDING TO STIMULUS] 

[CONTROL RECOMMENDED]

"When?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Today. Now, actually." Pierce checked his watch. "The Radiant Dawn representatives will arrive in twenty minutes to brief you."

"That fast?"

"Heroes don't like to wait," Walsh said with a hint of bitterness. "You'll be given specialized equipment and a communication device. The mission is expected to last three days."

Three days with heroes. Three days pretending to serve those who had destroyed everything he cared about.

'Fuck.'

---

The conference room door swung open twenty minutes later, right on schedule. Sunny steeled himself.

Four women walked in, each radiating the unmistakable aura of power that marked all Players. B-rank heroes, according to Pierce's hasty briefing. Not top-tier, but still leagues beyond normal humans.

"This is our support personnel?" The woman in front stopped, placing one hand on her hip as she examined Sunny. Her red hair was tied in a practical braid, and a rapier hung at her side. The Radiant Dawn Guild insignia gleamed on her shoulder pauldron. "He looks... ordinary."

"I assure you, Miss Everhart, Mr. Nimbril has exceptional qualifications," Pierce said, standing to greet them with a practiced smile. "Seven confirmed monster kills in his first week as cleanup crew."

"Seven whole monsters? How impressive," another hero drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She twirled a dagger between her fingers. Her dark clothing contrasted sharply with the bright guild colors of her companions. "I killed twelve before breakfast yesterday."

Sunny's jaw clenched. He recognized the haughty look, the casual arrogance. Just like the golden hero who left his parents to die.

[EMOTIONAL SPIKE DETECTED] 

[VOID ABSORPTION ACTIVITY INCREASING] 

[RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE STABILIZATION]

"Hush, Nyx," the red-haired leader said. "Be nice to our porter." She extended a hand to Sunny. "I'm Aria Everhart, party leader. The rude one is Nyx. The quiet one with the staff is our mage, Lina, and the tall one with the hammer is Brynn."

Sunny stood but didn't take her hand. "Sunny Nimbril. I will carry your things."

Aria's smile faltered slightly. She withdrew her hand. "Right. Well, we'll be heading into the Dungeon designated 'Frostbite Caverns.' Level 5, ice-type monsters."

"The equipment's already been loaded into the transport," Walsh informed them. "Mr. Nimbril has been briefed on his duties."

"Great," Brynn spoke up. She was easily six feet tall with shoulders broader than most men. "Can we skip the rest of the introductions? The dungeon isn't getting any easier while we stand around."

"Of course," Pierce nodded. "Walsh will escort you to the transport."

As they filed out of the room, Lina fell into step beside Sunny. Unlike the others, she seemed to be studying him with genuine curiosity rather than disdain.

"Seven kills as a cleaner?" she asked quietly. "That's unusual."

Sunny kept his eyes forward. "Lucky breaks."

"There's no such thing as luck," she replied. "Only statistics we don't fully understand."

He side eyed her. 'system, please kill me.'

[DENIED.]