Day1

I looked back to the other world.

Might as well check on it.

'What the fuck.'

That's literally all I could think.

Everything was the same. My room was still my room. The busted fan still clicking like its chewing gravel. The building across the street still had twelve floors, reaching up toward—

Oh.

Wait.

The sky's red.

Not sunset red. Not aesthetic filter red. I mean blood-glow, apocalyptic, Satan-left-his-LEDs-on red.

"…Is that the only difference?" I whispered.

Because I was hoping. I was begging for that to be it. Just some funky atmosphere filter. Maybe my Wi-Fi glitched into Stranger Things.

But no.

Nope.

Screams started—human ones.

Loud. Raw. Panicked.

I peeked out the cracked window.

There were people—running. Full sprint, full-blown hysteria, like they were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse speed run. Their faces weren't blurred or edited like in horror movies. They were real. Real people. Real fear.

And then I saw why.

There were things chasing them.

Big things.

Red things.

"What in the unholy, DLC-locked, hellspawned fuck is that—"

Giants. That's the closest word I've got. Towering masses of meat and bone, some with too many limbs, others with none at all. All painted in glowing crimson and black. Their faces? Not even faces. Just melted expressions and teeth growing in places teeth shouldn't be.

And they were laughing.

Not haha funny TikTok laughing. No.

The kind of laugh that splits your ears and makes your blood want to crawl out of your veins and leave without you.

They chased the people like it was a game. One snatched someone up like they were a plushie, raised them in the air—and ate them. Just. Chomp. Gone.

My knees buckled.

I hit the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

"What the hell is this," I gasped. "What the actual fuck is happening."

I wanted to scream. Cry. Something.

But nothing came out.

I was locked in place, watching hell play out like a livestream I didn't subscribe to.

The demons—giants—whatever-they-were—were different. Some were thin and stretched like rubber bands, others bulky and covered in what looked like armor made of... bones? One was crawling on all fours like a bug made of meat, whispering in a language I didn't recognize but somehow felt in my spine.

I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Every instinct in my body said run.

But there was nowhere to go.

Because this was my world now.

That's when I noticed something glowing faintly in the corner of my vision.

A symbol.

Floating like a heads-up display. Right there. Like I was in a game.

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦.

𝘋𝘢𝘺 1 / 66

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘖𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦.

[𝘓𝘖𝘊𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕: 𝘎𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘕𝘰𝘥𝘦 #0001: "𝘜𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯"]

𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴: 0

𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘈 𝘗𝘢𝘤𝘵?

"HUH???"

I slapped at the air like that would erase it.

It didn't.

𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘈 𝘗𝘢𝘤𝘵?

"No?? Absolutely no. Not even a probably not. Just full caps NO. Get that Skyrim-ass notification away from me—"

A flicker in the sky. Something huge moved above the clouds.

I couldn't tell what. Wings? Smoke? Lightning in the shape of a person?

Whatever it was, it was looking down.

At me.

I was being watched.

My phone buzzed violently in my pocket.

I pulled it out, hands shaking.

A message. Just one. No number.

"The game has started. Stay alive. Collect 66 Soul Shards to escape.

You're the Anomaly. They will hunt you hardest."

Then another one, immediately after:

"Make. A. Deal."

My blood went cold.

Something shifted in the room behind me. Something with weight. With breath. Something that stepped where no one had stepped before.

I turned slowly.

And there it was.

Standing in the doorway. The same doorway that had led to my bathroom this morning.

Now it was just red.

A tall figure.

Eyes like static.

And a smile that looked stitched on.

"You're late," it said. "We've been waiting."

I opened my mouth. No sound came out.

My legs twitched like they might run, but they didn't. I was frozen. Paralyzed between the instinct to fight and the hopeless reality that I didn't know how.

The figure stepped forward, slow and theatrical, like it had all the time in the world. Like it was enjoying the way I flinched with every movement.

I could see it better now. A tattered coat. Bone-like ridges beneath its skin. Its smile didn't change—but something behind its eyes did. Curiosity? Pity? Hunger?

"First time glitches always react like this," it murmured. Its voice was smooth and wrong, like it was tuned slightly off-key from reality. "But you'll adjust. Or you won't."

It held out its hand. Not a handshake. More like an offer. An open palm that pulsed faintly with light. Symbols I couldn't read swirled across the skin like ink trapped in water.

"No thanks," I croaked finally. "I'm good. I don't... I don't do satanic hand-holding."

Its smile widened. Somehow.

"Then run."

And suddenly, the lights went out. Not just in my room.

In everything.

The city outside blinked dark like someone had flipped a cosmic switch. Streetlights popped like fireworks. The sky shimmered like glass shattering in slow motion.

Then came the howling.

It wasn't human.

It wasn't not human, either.

I turned and bolted. I don't remember making the decision. One second I was staring at the demon-thing, and the next I was sprinting down the stairwell of my building like it owed me money.

The air smelled like ozone and metal. Like a thunderstorm had punched through the fabric of reality and set it on fire.

Every step I took echoed wrong. Too loud. Too sharp. Like the walls were listening.

Halfway down, I slipped.

Slammed into the concrete.

Bit my tongue.

I screamed then. Loud. Raw. Not heroic.

I wanted to wake up.

I wanted to die.

I wanted this to be someone else's problem.

But when I looked up—

It was there.

A person?

No. Not anymore.

They were hunched. Their skin glitched like a corrupted file. Their eyes were missing, just gaping holes bleeding static. They were chewing something. I think it used to be a hand.

And they looked up.

At me.

And they lunged.

I kicked. Flailed. Screamed again. The kind of scream that tears something in your throat.

We crashed into a wall. I don't even know how I managed to dodge the first bite.

I grabbed the closest thing I could.

A broken railing pipe.

I didn't think. I swung.

It hit their face with a crack.

They stumbled. Twitched. Then kept coming.

I swung again.

And again.

And again.

Until the thing stopped moving.

Until its head was more crater than skull.

Until my hands were slick with blood and rust and I was sobbing in a stairwell while the world screamed outside.

I didn't feel powerful.

I didn't feel brave.

I felt broken.

Like I'd just smashed what little innocence I had left.

The pipe clanged to the floor.

I stared at the body.

Then at my hands.

Then back at the body.

"What the fuck," I whispered. "What the fuck did I just do."

A chime rang out in the air. Like a notification.

[+1 Soul Shard Acquired]

I threw up on the stairs.

"Welcome to Day One," said a voice in the dark. I didn't even bother looking to see where it came from.

I just cried.

And somewhere, in the red-lit city that used to be my home, something laughed.

[THE CRUCIBLE SYSTEM HAS INITIATED ACT I]

 Title: Act I – "The First Curtain Bleeds"

 Type: Blood Initiation

Objective: Eliminate 3 "Hollowed" before sunrise.

 Modifier: Emotions affect visibility. Fear makes you louder.

 Time Remaining: 6 hours 6 minutes (06:06)

 Reward: +3 Soul Shards | System Upgrade: "Veil Pulse"

 Failure Penalty: The Hollowed will find you. And this time, they bring friends.

 Side Note: This Act is non-optional. You've already drawn blood. The stage demands more.

I read it once. Then twice.

Then I started laughing.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was already too late.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. My hands were shaking so hard I barely registered the mess. Blood. Vomit. Rust. Tears. A cocktail of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were doing.

But the system didn't care.

Three Hollowed. Six hours.

I had already killed one. Somehow. By accident. By luck. The kind of luck that doesn't feel lucky, just… cursed.

I wasn't ready to kill again. But apparently, that wasn't the point.

Because something in me was already shifting. Not stronger. Not better. Just—awake. Raw nerves screaming at me to move before the world took another bite out of me.

I grabbed the pipe again. Still warm. Still sticky.

"Okay," I muttered. "Okay. Think."

Every survival instinct I'd picked up from zombie games and bad horror movies kicked in. Rule one: get a better weapon. This pipe was better than nothing, but it wasn't a plan. It wasn't going to save me from giants or glitch-people or… whatever was next.

I kicked open a door on one of the lower floors. It was someone's old apartment. Probably.

Dust floated through the air like it had nowhere else to go. The place looked ransacked — like whoever lived here had run mid-bite, leaving a plate of food to rot on the counter and a TV still playing static.

I searched fast.

Drawer. Nothing.

Closet. Broken umbrella.

Under the bed—baseball bat.

Bingo.

Wooden. Heavy. A crack already running down the handle. Probably wouldn't last long. But neither would I.

Still. Better than the pipe.

I strapped it to my back with a belt I found, then kept moving. The stairwell led to a back door—out into the alley.

The air out here was worse.

Thick. Wet. Pulsing with distant screams and sirens that didn't sound like sirens anymore.

And then I heard it.

A scrape.

No. A rhythm.

Thud. Drag. Thud. Drag.

I ducked behind a dumpster just in time to see the second Hollowed come around the corner.

This one was smaller than the first. Quieter. Its skin flickered with static like it was barely being rendered. Limbs too long. Neck twitching like a corrupted game model.

It didn't see me. Yet.

I held my breath.

The system's words echoed in my skull.

Fear makes you louder.

So I forced myself to breathe.

In. Out.

Quiet.

I wrapped my fingers around the bat. Thought about my grip. Wrist alignment. Just like the martial arts videos I used to watch when I was bored. How they said to swing from the hips, not the arms. Rotate. Commit.

Couldn't believe I was about to fight for my life with YouTube knowledge.

Still… better than nothing.

I moved.

One step.

Two.

The Hollowed stopped. Tilted its head like a puppet hearing a song in reverse.

I had seconds.

I gripped the bat. Swung from behind.

Crack.

The hit landed on its shoulder. Not the head. Not clean. It stumbled, let out a shriek that sounded like a dial-up modem being strangled, and spun around.

Too fast.

Its hand slammed into me.

I hit the wall hard. Pain bloomed in my ribs.

"Shit—!"

The bat slipped. I scrambled, trying to get up. It lunged.

I ducked. Rolled under. Grabbed the bat mid-spin. Came up with a wild swing and—

Thunk.

Right in its face.

It dropped.

Twitching.

And I didn't stop swinging.

Not until the thing stopped making noise.

Not until my arms ached and my breath came in fire-bursts.

Another chime.

[+1 Soul Shard Acquired]

Two down.

I collapsed next to the thing. This one didn't look like a monster now. It looked like a teenager. Or had. Before whatever corrupted it.

I hated that it looked familiar.

I hated that I didn't feel anything anymore.

I hated that this might be me, soon.

But I stood up anyway.

Because I wasn't dead yet.

And that meant I still had to finish the stage.

I wiped my mouth. Shaky. Empty. My body was trying to figure out if it wanted to cry or vomit again. I didn't give it the chance.

I picked up the broken pipe again—still warm—and bolted down the last few steps into the lobby.

No time to spiral.

I needed better gear. A weapon. First aid. Anything.

The front doors were broken open. Glass shattered inward like something had entered, not escaped.

Outside, the sky was darker than it should've been. As if the red hue had deepened into something thicker—closer to a bruise.

I sprinted across the street and ducked into the nearest corner store. It was trashed. Shelves overturned. The flicker of dying neon gave the place a haunted glow.

Still—jackpot.

In the back, past the aisles of expired snacks and spilled soda, I found a first-aid kit. Half-open. Mostly looted. But there were still a few gauze rolls, bandages, and a bottle of iodine.

I patched my ribs the best I could. Every move sent lightning through my side.

Then I spotted it.

Behind the counter.

A fire axe.

No explanation. Just there. Like someone forgot the apocalypse started and left it for me.

I took it.

The weight felt good. Heavy. Real.

The pipe clanged against the floor where I dropped it.

"Okay," I muttered, adjusting my grip. "Third one. Let's go."

The wind outside had changed. It carried whispers now. Faint. Inhuman.

I stalked through the alleys like prey pretending to be a predator.

Every shadow looked alive. Every flicker of motion made my heart skip.

I turned the corner—

And froze.

There it was.

The third Hollowed.

It was crouched over a body. Tearing into it like a starving dog.

I crept closer. Every martial arts video I'd ever watched playing through my mind in pieces.

Widen your stance. Don't swing from your arms—use your hips. Commit.

I took a breath.

And I charged.

I swung the axe with everything I had.

It didn't see me coming.

The blade buried itself in its side.

It screamed. A gurgling, wet thing. Not words. Not pain. Just… rage.

It spun. Clawed. Ripped into my shoulder.

I screamed too.

Blood hit the walls.

I didn't stop. I pulled the axe free and swung again.

And again.

Until the Hollowed dropped, twitching.

Until I dropped, panting, bleeding, victorious.

Another chime.

[+1 Soul Shard Acquired]

A beat of silence.

Then the system voice returned, cold and triumphant:

[PRIMARY OBJECTIVE COMPLETE – ACT I CLEARED]

Total Soul Shards: 3

System Upgrade Unlocked: "Veil Pulse" – Tap into emotional echoes to briefly reveal hidden paths and dangers.

Status: Alive (Barely)

I collapsed to my knees, the axe slipping from my hands.

Day One wasn't over.

But I was still breathing.

For now.

[NEW SYSTEM DIRECTIVE INITIATED – PHASE SHIFT DETECTED]

Act II – "The Red Spiral"

 Objective: Explore designated Glitch Zone: Sector R2 ("The Shattered Fringe")

 Side Goals:

Locate a stable Veil AnchorRetrieve at least one medical crateEliminate one Tier-2 Hollowed or higher

Timer: 04:44:00

 Bonus: First player to complete all sub-goals unlocks Title: Seeker of Ruin

 Note: The world is shifting. Reality distortion is increasing. Paths may not be the same twice.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

I stared at the new directive.

Cool. Perfect. Amazing.

I was half-dead, bleeding from the shoulder, and this thing wanted me to go sightseeing in a death maze.

But what choice did I have?

I grabbed the axe.

And I ran.

Act II – The Red Spiral

Time Remaining: 04:29:56

My breath steamed in the air like a warning.

The Crucible had gone quiet—but not in a peaceful way. No, this was the kind of quiet you get before an ambush. The kind that hugs your skin like static and makes every step feel borrowed.

Sector R2 shimmered ahead. The border was marked by... not walls, but distortion. Like looking through a heatwave, but colder. Sharper. It didn't move like glass or wind. It moved like it knew you were watching.

The moment I stepped through, the HUD buzzed.

[You have entered GLITCH NODE: "The Shattered Fringe"]

Distortion Level: High

Environmental Modifier: Reality bleed active. Objects may shift. Memory may desync.

Great.

The buildings here weren't ruins—they were wrong.

A twisted school half-sunken into the asphalt. A playground where swings swayed in opposite directions. Streetlamps grew like trees, branching at odd angles. It was like the world had been redrawn by a child with a fever.

And worse—my shoulder hurt.

Each heartbeat was a little dagger behind my ribs. But I couldn't stop. I wouldn't.

Objective Reminder:

Locate Veil AnchorMedical crateTier-2 Hollowed

"Cool, cool," I muttered. "Just three impossible things before breakfast."

I ducked inside what used to be a hardware store—maybe. Now it looked more like a crime scene rearranged by a surrealist. Tools floated mid-air, twitching. A sign read Everything must go! but the letters rearranged themselves as I watched:

Everything must bleed.

I moved fast. Searching.

Shelf. Cabinet. Drawers—

There. Back corner. Medical Crate. Labeled in glowing red.

I opened it.

Not much inside—some advanced coagulant foam, a patch stims, and a weird syringe labeled:

"Sustain Capsule – BETA: Stabilizes fatal wounds for 10 min. Use wisely."

I jammed the patch stim into my shoulder.

The pain dulled, slightly. Not gone. But muted.

Better.

[SIDE GOAL COMPLETE – Medical crate retrieved]

+250 XP | +Minor Regen Buff (Temporary)

I turned to leave—

And heard it.

A scraping. Heavy.

Too heavy.

I peeked between the bent metal shelves—

There it was.

Tier-2 Hollowed.

Not like the others.

This one was tall. Too tall. Limbs too long. Its head was a cage of black wire, and inside it... something moved. Twitched. Like it was still alive.

It wasn't alone.

Something pulsed near it—like a shadow tied to a heartbeat. Like its fear wore skin.

I ducked low. Not to hide. To think.

I had the axe. A few tools in my backpack. No armor. No backup. No plan.

But I did have something else.

The Hollowed corpse twitched once, then went still. The wires of its cage-head hummed like a broken violin, then snapped apart with a brittle pop.

I didn't move.

Not for a full minute.

Then, slowly, I reached out—and yanked the Soul Shard free.

It pulsed in my palm like a tiny, angry heartbeat.

It didn't feel like an upgrade.

It felt like taking something that didn't want to be taken.

The system buzzed:

[Soul Shard Absorbed – Memory Fragment Unlocked]

Wait—what?

Before I could process it, something burned behind my eyes.

Like static spilled into my skull.

I saw flashes. Blurred. Fast.

A man. Face hidden. Screaming.

A circle drawn in salt and ash.

My own hands. Bleeding.

A child's voice.

Whispering a name I didn't recognize, but felt in my bones.

Then—

Gone.

My knees hit the floor.

I panted, grabbing the shelf for balance.

[WARNING: Psychological Stability at 63%]

Great. Now my brain had a health bar.

I stood, staggering, and grabbed the fire axe again.

The Glitch Zone around me rippled like a heartbeat.

I needed to find that Veil Anchor.

Fast.

I stepped outside—and the streets were gone.

The entire block had shifted.

No more hardware store.

Just crimson fog and a street sign that read:

R E A L I T Y I S A M A L F U N C T I O N

Cool. Good. Normal.

I kept moving.

Through the mist. Through the broken bones of buildings that bent upward like praying hands.

Then—

I saw her.

A girl.

Standing still in the middle of the road.

Wearing a hospital gown. Barefoot.

She looked… untouched.

Like she didn't belong here.

Like she was before all this.

"Hey," I called. "Are you—"

She turned.

Her eyes were hollow.

Her mouth opened—too wide—and she screamed.

Not sound. Not words.

Just code.

Glitching letters poured from her throat, burning red into the air like fire on film.

The fog exploded outward.

I stumbled back, hands over my ears.

And when I looked again—

She was gone.

Just static left in her place.

And in the air:

[You are being watched.]

[Veil Anchor Nearby – 76 meters]

I bolted.

Ran toward the ping like it was oxygen.

The world around me shifted again.

Walls sprouted from nowhere.

Floors cracked beneath my steps.

Reality was fighting me.

But I made it.

There.

Buried in a half-eaten apartment complex.

A glowing altar. Cracked. Sparking.

The Veil Anchor.

It pulsed—barely alive.

I dropped beside it. Pulled out the only thing that looked like it might help.

The Sustain Capsule.

Maybe stupid.

Maybe suicide.

But it was glowing now. Reacting to the Anchor.

[Stabilize Veil Anchor using Capsule? Yes/No]

I hit Yes.

The moment it activated, the air screamed.

Wind rushed inward like the world was breathing in.

The fog collapsed. The glitching buildings snapped into stillness.

And then, silence.

Real silence.

The Anchor burned bright white.

Then vanished.

Leaving behind a symbol carved into the earth:

A spiral.

With my name in the center.

[Veil Anchor Stabilized – All Side Goals Complete]

[BONUS UNLOCKED: "Seeker of Ruin" Title Acquired]

[Psychological Stability +15% | Map Access Unlocked | Memory Progression Initiated]

I dropped back, staring at the spiral.

And for just a moment—

I remembered.

The deal.

The room.

The circle drawn in chalk.

And the voice that asked,

"Will you trade the truth for survival?"

I said yes.

I think I said yes.

I must've said yes.

Because here I am.

And the Crucible never forgets a contract.

Time Remaining: 02:49:00

Status: Wounded | Soul Shards: 3 | Title: "Seeker of Ruin"

The map twitched in my vision like it was breathing. Not showing a place. Showing something alive. Moving.

Every street bent the wrong way. Buildings blinked in and out of existence. Street names rewritten mid-glance. A city trying to remember how to be itself—and failing.

Dead center: "The Atrium."

 Location: The Atrium (formerly St. Cathar's Hospital)

Threat Rating: Tier-2 Zone

Condition: Highly unstable

Known Inhabitants: ???

Memory Density: Severe

I muttered, "So we're doing haunted hospitals now? Awesome."

The closer I got, the worse it got. Streetlamps bent toward me like they were watching. Glass cracked underfoot even when I wasn't stepping on it. The wind had no direction—it spun in circles.

And the hospital?

It wasn't a hospital anymore.

Not really.

It looked like a building that had seen too much and decided to rot in protest. The entrance was stitched shut with IV lines. The sign over the ER doors read:

WE REMEMBER WHERE IT HURTS MOST.

I didn't want to go in.

But I had to.

Inside, the air was wrong. Damp. Chemical. Breathing.

Somewhere in the dark, soft music played. Off-key. Like a lullaby whistled through broken teeth.

Then came the system ping:

 Boss Encounter Initiated

Entity: "The Surgeon" – Tier-2 Hollowed

Mobility: Glide-TypeTactic: Precision AssaultWeakness: Disruptive Force + Unpredictable Movement

Note: This zone feeds on emotional memory. Stay sharp.

Before I could react—he slid into view.

Not walking. Rolling. Steel wheels replacing feet. Limbs replaced with surgical saws and bone needles. A face hidden by a cracked surgeon's mask. And eyes—too many eyes—stitched into his coat like trophies.

He didn't speak.

He just hummed.

I ducked. Fast.

The first blade skimmed the wall behind me, cleanly slicing a metal gurney in half.

I rolled right. Drew the axe. Swung—

Missed.

He came back around, lightning-fast, catching my arm. Metal cut into skin. I dropped the axe. Pain flooded my shoulder like electricity.

I fell.

But my hand landed on something.

A dropped defibrillator.

Sparking.

Risky.

I gritted my teeth. Grabbed the paddles.

And slammed them into his chest.

 Crack.

He spasmed. Screamed.

I shoved him off and lunged for the axe.

He was slower now. Flickering.

I didn't wait.

I struck.

Blade to bone. Head to floor.

Then silence.

And the ping:

+2 Soul Shards

New Item Unlocked: "Spinal Injector – Tier-2 Unlock Catalyst"

Zone Cleared: The Atrium

Map Expanded

The world tilted as the floor shuddered beneath me.

A panel opened behind the old nurse's station. Not a hallway—a tunnel. Leading down.

New Zone: "The Silent Wards"

Rumored to contain survivors. And secrets no one was meant to hear.

I barely had the strength to move.

But I picked up the axe again.

Because something deeper had already started to wake up.

Not in the building.

In me.

Time Remaining: 01:59:00

Soul Shards: 5 | Status: Tier-2 Wounded | Location: "Silent Wards" (Sub-Zone R2-B)

The tunnel behind the nurse's station wasn't built.

It was grown.

Walls pulsed like veins. Old tile crumbled beneath my boots. The air was colder here—not just in temperature. In memory.

And something whispered behind the walls.

Not language.

Reminders.

Words that didn't belong to me filled my head like radio static:

"She's not breathing."

"We did everything we could."

"Don't come back."

I shook it off.

Held the axe tighter.

Then the system pinged.

 MEMORY-LOCK ZONE DETECTED

You are now entering a place remembered by someone else.

Emotions may not be yours.

Violence may not be optional.

Cool. So now I'm hallucinating other people's trauma.

I moved forward anyway.

The hall twisted. Bent left when it should've gone straight. Fluorescent lights hung by threads of wire. Some flickered in Morse. Some screamed. One burst into sparks and spelled a word in shadow:

DON'T RUN.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

Fast. Barefoot.

Then voices.

Human.

Real.

I ducked into a collapsed storage closet, peeking through rusted blinds.

Three of them. Survivors.

One girl—early 20s maybe—holding a rusted crowbar and wearing someone else's blood. A guy beside her, pale, muttering in loops. Another behind them, carrying a medpack like a lifeline.

They weren't Hollowed.

But they weren't clean, either.

The girl stopped. Looked right at where I was hiding.

And said, flatly, "You can come out. We heard your breathing."

I froze.

Then stepped out, axe half-raised.

"Not here to kill you," I said.

"Yeah," she deadpanned. "That's what killers always say."

The guy with the medpack looked me up and down. "You're Tier-2 already?"

He whistled. "Nice. You the 'Anomaly' people keep whispering about?"

My heart skipped.

"…You heard about me?"

"Everyone hears what the system wants us to," the girl replied. "You get a title; you get a bounty. That's how it goes."

[New Directive Unlocked: OPTIONAL – Form Temporary Pact With Survivors]

Pact Type: Shard-Split

Condition: Survive one full phase together.

Bonus: Shared visibility.

Penalty: Shared threat level.

I hesitated.

But something behind us screamed.

A distant cry—too long, too sharp.

The girl winced. "Silent Wards don't stay silent forever. Come with us or die alone."

I nodded.

We ran.

Through twisted corridors. Past surgery rooms flooded with black ichor. Through a morgue where the drawers opened themselves, humming lullabies in reverse.

We found a break room.

Sealed the door.

The girl introduced herself as Calla. The guy with the medpack was Ishaan. The quiet one? He hadn't spoken in hours. Just muttered coordinates no one understood.

"He's Glitched," Calla whispered. "Not Hollowed yet. But not far."

I sat down. Breathing hard.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

She looked at me like I'd missed the point.

"We're all still here," she said. "That's the game."

Ishaan handed me a water bottle. Warm. Metal. Tasted like battery acid, but I didn't care.

"Any idea what's deeper?" I asked.

Calla looked toward the hallway.

Then pointed at a sigil burned into the ceiling.

"Next zone's called The Looping Room. Once you enter, time resets every 6 minutes unless you find the anchor."

"Anchor?"

She nodded.

"A memory you refuse to forget. Yours. Someone else's. Doesn't matter. But if the room can erase you, it will."

"Has anyone made it through?"

She smiled. Bitter.

"Anyone who did never came back to tell us."

[NEW ZONE: "The Looping Room" – Tier-3 Fragment Zone]

 Effect: Time Loop (6 minutes)

 Goal: Anchor a memory. Escape the reset.

 Threat: Hollowed Repeater

 Bonus: If Anchor is Glitched, unlock hidden lore path.

 Warning: Repeated resets may cause memory loss. Even of real-world events.

Calla looked at me, serious now.

"If you come with us, we split what we find. Shards. Items. Info."

"And if I don't?"

"You'll be alone when your memories start bleeding," she said. "And out here? That's worse than dying."

I nodded again.

For now?

I needed them.

Campfire Before The Loop – 01:24:13 Remaining

The room we found was barely a room—more like a collapsed office wrapped in wires and IV bags. Someone had stacked broken chairs into a makeshift barricade near the door. A red emergency lamp in the corner blinked every few seconds, casting everything in violent shadows.

Calla crouched near a busted coffee machine. She'd started a tiny flame inside its cracked base—actual fire. How? No idea. Maybe she was the type of person who always knew how to survive.

Ishaan was organizing what was left of our supplies. Three painkillers. A single adrenaline injector. A rusted pocket knife.

The Glitched one—Lio—sat with his back to the wall, muttering numbers to himself. He kept scratching his arm, like he was trying to remember it existed.

And I—

I just stared into the flickering flame.

Calla broke the silence. "You haven't said your Crucible name."

"…Nox," I said.

Ishaan looked up. "Latin. Means night, right?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know if it meant anything. But it felt right. Like something I'd earned without knowing how.

Calla poked the flame with a snapped scalpel." 'Nox' sounds poetic."

I gave her a look. "Oh yeah, super poetic. Just gutted a Hollowed in a haunted hospital. Real Hallmark vibes."

She smirked. "Hey, sarcasm means you're still sane. Mostly."

The fire crackled.

Lio whispered something under his breath.

Ishaan leaned forward. "You know this isn't just a game, right?"

"Yeah, I kinda got that when I had to bludgeon a guy's skull in with a pipe."

"No," Ishaan said. "I mean it's not just a game. It's a filter. A sorting system. Everyone here… we were chosen. For something."

"Chosen for what?" I asked. "Dying badly?"

Calla looked away.

Then said quietly, "They think the world ended. But it didn't. It was rewritten. This is the rewrite."

I frowned. "Who's 'they'?"

She met my eyes.

"The ones who started it. The Admins. The ones who made a deal."

The name echoed in my mind like thunder behind glass.

Ezazrael.

"Glitch events didn't start randomly," Ishaan added. "They were manufactured. Controlled. Until they weren't."

"And you believe that?" I asked.

"I remember it," Calla said. "In pieces. In dreams. I see things I never lived. People I never met. Places that don't exist anymore."

I stayed quiet.

Because I knew that feeling.

Too well.

The flame popped, sending a spark across the floor. Lio flinched.

He suddenly muttered, "Three doors. One locked. One red. One lies."

We all turned to him.

Calla's expression sharpened. "He's been saying riddles like that since we found him. After he glitched."

"What do they mean?" I asked.

"He's stuck between timelines," she said. "Sometimes he sees what's next. Sometimes what was erased."

Lio looked at me. Eyes wild. For a second, they cleared.

And he whispered, "Nox… don't forget the hallway. That's where they start remembering."

Then the glitch returned. His face sagged. His voice broke into static again.

I leaned back against the wall.

My shoulder ached. My chest burned. My mind? Fractured.

But my resolve?

Stronger than it had ever been.

The system wanted us to survive—but not all of us. Only the ones who could keep walking when their past screamed at them to stop.

Only the ones who could face the truth when it bled.

And I would.

Because I was Nox.

And I was done being afraid of the dark.