Kyle lay on the cold stone floor, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, barely able to keep his eyes open. The world around him spun and swayed like a sinking ship, but he still caught the movement of Lana sprinting forward, her voice cutting through the chaos like a lightning bolt.
"Come here, fucker!"
The beast turned its massive body with a furious screech, its sharp legs digging into the stone surface as it reoriented its attention toward Lana. She didn't flinch. She didn't hesitate. She ran directly at it, screaming again, not out of fear, but to bait it.
"Runnnnn!!!" she screamed back at Kyle.
Kyle groaned, pushing himself up with trembling arms. His entire body screamed in protest. He blinked hard, trying to refocus. Every muscle felt like it was on fire, his ribs were throbbing, and he was sure he had at least one cracked bone. He turned his head, looking in the direction they had come from, the way that should have been his escape route.
But he couldn't run. Not now. Not after everything. Not when Lana was still fighting without a weapon. She was risking her life for him.
If he left, she would die. He knew it. And he couldn't allow that.
He winced and staggered upright, one hand pressed to his side where a deep bruise was forming. He caught a glimpse of something on the wall—a spike. One of the beast's own projectiles. It was buried in the rock but not too deeply. He stumbled toward it, his fingers wrapping around the thick, dark spike. It vibrated faintly in his hand, buzzing with whatever energy it was made of.
He gritted his teeth and yanked. At first, it didn't move. He put all his strength into it, pulled harder, until finally it ripped free from the stone with a sharp crack. He nearly fell backward, but caught himself.
It was heavier than he expected. Denser. But it felt powerful. Stronger than either of the spears Lana had used. Stronger than anything he'd held since entering this godforsaken game.
He turned back just in time to see Lana dodge another attack. The beast launched a spike, and although she twisted mid-air to avoid it, the edge of the projectile grazed her side. She hit the ground and rolled, clutching her side in pain, blood already soaking through her shirt.
Kyle's heart pounded like a drum. He clenched the spike in his hand and sucked in a deep breath, forcing strength back into his legs.
"Not today," he whispered to himself.
He ran.
The ground beneath him blurred. The pain in his ribs was a dull throb now, dulled by adrenaline. He ran toward a protruding rock, tall and jagged like the peak of some buried ruin. He climbed it quickly, every movement driven by desperation. Lana was crouching now, unable to move much, her breathing ragged. The beast reared up, readying another spike.
Kyle leapt.
Time seemed to slow as he flew through the air. The spike raised high above his head, the wind tugging at his shirt, his feet leaving the ground behind. For a moment, he felt weightless.
He came down hard.
With all the force his battered body could muster, he brought the spike down directly onto the beast's head.
BOOOM!
A sickening crack echoed through the cavern as the tip of the spike drove straight through the beast's skull, impaling it into the stone ground. Black blood sprayed out in thick arcs, coating the floor. The creature let out a piercing screech, its legs flailing wildly. It convulsed once, twice, then collapsed.
The spike stood straight out from its head, like a flag planted in victory.
Kyle hit the ground beside it, the impact knocking the wind out of him again. He grunted, his body trembling, but this time he forced himself up faster.
He limped to Lana.
She was still holding her side, but her eyes were wide. She had seen the entire thing. Her expression was a mix of surprise and awe.
"You alright?" Kyle asked, breathless, leaning down to check on her.
Lana looked at him for a long second. Then, she nodded slowly.
"I'm alright… Thank you."
Kyle blinked at her, confused. "Thank you?"
Lana smiled faintly, blood staining her lips. "You could have run away. But you didn't."
Kyle shook his head, his face hard but sincere. "I need you to get out of here. I couldn't let you die."
It wasn't a romantic line. It wasn't dramatic. It was just the truth.
And that's what made it powerful.
Lana's smile grew just a bit, and for the first time, her shoulders relaxed.
She liked that answer.
She liked his honesty.
Suddenly, an orb began to rise from the beast's body.
It shimmered with a soft, pulsing green glow, hovering a few inches above the spider-like creature's skull. The light was strangely hypnotic, casting soft shadows across the damp, rocky cave walls. Kyle squinted, trying to make sense of it. It looked digital, but not in a cheap, artificial way. More like something alive—something breathing.
"The hell is that?" he muttered, backing up slightly.
Lana had her hands on her knees, still catching her breath. When she saw it, she straightened up slowly, her own eyes narrowing in cautious curiosity. The orb floated, unmoving, as if it were watching them—or maybe waiting.
"You've seen anything like this before?" Kyle asked, still keeping a healthy distance from the glowing thing.
She shook her head slowly, brows furrowed. "No. I killed a beast a few minutes before I found you. Nothing like this showed up."
Kyle didn't reply. He took a tentative step closer.
Then, without warning, the orb began to tremble. A low hum filled the air—subtle but eerie. The green glow pulsed faster, faster—and then it split. Clean down the middle, like a bubble popping into two equal halves.
"What the fu—" Kyle didn't even get to finish his sentence.
Both halves of the orb shot toward them, one to him, one to her, at an unbelievable speed. There was no time to dodge, no time to react. Before either of them could blink, the glowing orbs hit their chests.
Kyle gasped.
His muscles tensed as the orb phased through his skin, like a current of warm air rushing into his chest cavity. He didn't feel pain. Not heat. Not cold. Just—energy. Flowing, spreading. His eyes widened as the warmth surged down his arms, through his legs, up his spine. His heartbeat slowed into something calm and rhythmic, steady like a drum in his ears. He could breathe deeper. His lungs opened fully.
He felt… good.
Lana had staggered when the orb hit her too, but now she stood up straighter. She touched her side where the spike had grazed her moments ago, the deep scrape now almost entirely gone. Even the dried blood was flaking away. She raised her sleeve and stared at the smooth skin beneath.
Kyle rolled his shoulder and blinked. "What the hell just happened?"
"I don't know," Lana said quietly, still watching her hands like they were new limbs. "But I feel… refreshed. Stronger. My fatigue's gone. Even my headache."
Kyle nodded, stepping back and flexing his hands. "Yeah. Me too. It's like… like we leveled up or something." He took a few deep breaths, punched the air lightly. "Now this—this is finally starting to behave like a game."
Lana looked thoughtful, processing the event with that cold, calculating gaze of hers. "So if we kill a beast and survive… we're revitalized. And we grow stronger."
Kyle nodded again. "Seems so."
He turned back toward the beast's corpse, now limp and oozing black blood into the crevices of the stone floor. Despite its grotesque form, it looked almost peaceful in death—its many legs curled inward like a dead spider on a windowsill.
Something caught Kyle's attention.
Two large spikes were still lodged into the rocky wall behind the beast. These were different from the ones it had already fired—they were thicker, darker, and almost humming with stored energy. It must've been preparing to launch them at Lana during the fight. If Kyle hadn't jumped in when he did…
Without another word, he walked over and yanked both spikes from the wall. They came out with a gritty snap. Each one was nearly half his height, surprisingly light for their size, yet dense and sturdy in his hands.
"What are you doing?" Lana asked.
He turned to her and tossed one of the spikes. She caught it effortlessly.
"We don't know what else is out there," Kyle said. "These things? They seem like good weapons."
She turned the spike over in her hand, testing the weight and balance. "You're right," she admitted. "It's lighter than it looks. Stronger too. Way better than those brittle wooden spears."
Kyle slung his own spike over his shoulder like a makeshift greatsword and looked around the cave again. Now that the tension had lifted, the silence in the tunnel was almost louder than the fight had been. Their heavy breathing echoed softly. Water dripped in the distance.
"So…" he started, kicking a loose pebble across the floor, "how far are we from the exit?"
Lana stepped past him, eyes scanning the path ahead. She didn't say anything for a second. Then, with a short nod, she pointed forward. "We're close. Another tunnel bend or two."
Relief bloomed in Kyle's chest. The idea of seeing sunlight—or anything that wasn't jagged rock and monstrous beasts—made his legs move faster.
Together, they started walking, side by side this time.
Lana led the way, holding her new spike firmly in her right hand. She walked like someone who was used to danger. Calculated steps. Constant scanning. Silent readiness. Kyle tried to copy the way she moved, not out of pride, but because it worked. And because for the first time since falling into this place, he actually felt a little hope.
Maybe they'd make it out.
Maybe he wasn't as weak as he thought.
He clutched his spike tighter and followed behind her, breathing evenly now.
They didn't speak much. There wasn't much to say.
But they both knew now: this world rewarded the brave, the reckless, and the lucky. And today, they'd been all three.
Three masked men stood in a dark office, their faces concealed by smooth, expressionless black visors. Their suits were clean, expensive, tailored with a kind of sharp precision that screamed authority. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a massive curved screen mounted on the wall in front of them.
On the screen, two young figures were walking slowly through a jagged cave tunnel—one with a spike slung over his shoulder, the other moving with calculated grace. Lana and Kyle.
The footage was being captured in real time from an overhead drone hidden in the rocky structure. The quality was pristine—every breath, every twitch, every bead of sweat clearly visible.
"They seem promising," one of the masked men said, his voice deep and filtered by a voice modulator. He leaned forward slightly, arms behind his back. "Do you think we should consider them… for the mission?"
The second man tilted his head, watching the screen closely as Lana carefully stepped over a loose rock, alert as always. "Too early," he replied. "It's only the beginning of the game. They've barely scratched the surface. Let's see how they handle what comes next."
The third man, who stood a few steps behind the others, spoke then. "Has the identity of all of them been cleared?"
There was a pause.
Then the other two nodded slowly in unison.
"Yes," said the first. "Every last participant has been successfully wiped from civilian records."
"They don't exist anymore," the second added. "Not in any system, not to any authority. Even their close contacts—family, friends—will find nothing but blank spaces. No paper trails. No digital footprints. No names. They're ghosts now."
"Just like we promised," the third man murmured, his voice calm, almost bored. "If anyone comes looking for them… it will be like they were trafficked away, vanished into some hidden corner of the world. There's nothing to lead back to us."
Silence fell between the three of them again.
The only sound in the room was the faint electronic hum of the surveillance equipment. On the screen, Kyle and Lana's footsteps echoed softly through the narrow cavern, unaware they were being watched—analyzed.
Unaware that their lives were now part of something far bigger than either of them could comprehend.
Unaware that the game… was only just beginning.