Mike drifted in darkness.
Not peaceful darkness.
Not sleep.
Something heavy pressed on his chest, like a mountain’s weight had settled there, and every breath he tried to take felt dragged out of a broken rib. His thoughts drifted like fading embers, rising and falling, flickering, threatening to die out.
He floated.
Until he didn’t.
A warmth settled against his face. Light. Trembling. Soft fur brushing his cheek.
A tiny, choked sound.
A whimper.
The warmth nudged him. Again. And again. Small paws pressed against his jaw, claws barely pricking his skin.
A sound followed — a tiny, desperate yip.
Lumi.
Mike’s eyes fluttered open.
The world came back one blurred shape at a time: a canopy of shattered branches above, splashes of residual green glow flickering like ghosts along the trunks, the scorched crater where the Verdant Maw had fallen…
…and the tiny fox curled on his chest, whimpering his name in the only way he knew how.
Mike moved a hand, the motion sending pain shooting across his side. Lumi gasped — if foxes could gasp — then threw himself against Mike’s chin, licking at the dried blood on his cheek.
“Hey… hey, buddy,” Mike rasped. His voice felt like sandpaper. “I’m okay.”
That was a lie.
He definitely wasn’t okay.
His entire body felt like it had been tenderized with a divine blender. His left arm refused to move. His ribs screamed. His vision swam. But he was alive.
He centered one shaky breath and focused.
The System obliged.
[STATUS — CANDIDATE: MICHAEL STORM]
Health: 8% — Critical Condition
Mana: 0% — Exhausted
Stamina: 3% — Dangerously Low
Fractures: 2 (non-lethal)
Contusions: 7
Lacerations: multiple superficial
Status Effects: Post-Discharge Shock, Overdraw Burn, Internal Bruising
Then:
[Level Up]
LVL 5 → LVL 6
[Level Up]
LVL 6 → LVL 7
Attribute Gains:
+1 STR
+3 AGI
+2 VIT
+2 INT
+1 WIS
+1 LIGHTNING
+1 CHAOS
New Skill:
Lightning Lunge (T1) — A fast, electrically reinforced thrust. High single-target damage. High stamina cost.
Skill Upgrade: Chaotic Pulse → Chaotic Pulse (Improved)
Trait: Survival Instinct (Passive) — When health is dangerously low, reflex speed increases. (Warning: does not prevent death.)
Mike stared at the messages.
“Two levels for almost dying,” he croaked. “What a bargain.”
Lumi yipped again, pressing into him, six tails trembling.
“Hey, I know,” Mike whispered. He reached up with his good hand and stroked the fox’s head. Lumi’s little body immediately relaxed… then tensed again, as if torn between relief and fear.
The memory of the fight crashed into Mike like a falling boulder.
Sael.
He pushed himself upright — too fast.
Pain flared white.
The edges of his vision dimmed.
Lumi panicked, scrambling onto his shoulder with frantic chirps.
Mike hissed through clenched teeth. “I need— I need to see—”
His eyes scanned the battlefield.
The crater where the boss fell.
The trenches its claws carved through the dirt.
The shattered trees.
The bodies of several candidates who hadn’t run fast enough.
And on the far edge of a scorched patch of earth—
Nothing.
No body.
No fragments.
Nothing left of Sael but the faint outline burned into the ground by the boss’s breath.
Mike’s breath caught in his throat.
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The orb drifted closer, silent for the first time since he’d met it.
“…Sael,” Mike whispered.
He didn’t know how long he stared.
Long enough for the System to decide it needed to add insult to injury.
[Candidate Sael — Deceased]
Final Action: High-risk Illusion Imprint Divergence
Performance Rating: Exceptional (Class Growth Potential: Lost)]
Mike shut his eyes tight.
He hadn’t known Sael long.
Barely a day.
But they’d trusted him.
Followed him.
Saved him.
Died because they believed in him.
And there would be no body to bury.
No grave.
No last words.
Just ash and silence.
Lumi nuzzled Mike’s cheek with a soft, mournful whine.
Mike swallowed hard, fingers curling into the dirt.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should’ve— I should’ve found another way.”
Incorrect, the orb said, voice softer than usual.
Candidate Sael’s chance of survival without diversion action was 0%.
Your likelihood of defeat without diversion action was 98%.
Outcome was favorable for survival goals.
“Favorable?” Mike spat, turning on it. “They’re dead!”
The orb hovered still, absorbing the anger, unflinching.
Correct.
Candidate Sael is eliminated.
You remain active.
The System prioritizes continuity.
Mike’s jaw trembled. “They weren’t a number.”
All candidates are more than numbers.
But the System cannot resurrect the dead.
Only gods can do that.
Mike stared at it.
“…Gods can resurrect?”
Some.
Not all.
“Could the Tutorial Administrator?”
The orb did not answer.
Which meant the answer was yes.
Mike let out a bitter laugh. “Of course. Of course it’s an option I don’t get.”
There was no point in staying here.
Not with the boss dead.
Not with the threat looming.
Not with the First Selection timer still ticking mercilessly forward.
But his body didn’t want to move.
Lumi hopped down and tugged at Mike’s torn sleeve.
A small, insistent pull.
Mike exhaled and nodded.
“Yeah. Okay. We need to get out of here.”
He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling. Lumi braced himself under Mike’s forearm, supporting him like the tiny lightning-charged therapist he was.
Mike managed a smile. “Good boy.”
The orb drifted ahead.
Recommendation: Move to safer terrain.
Remaining candidates may be hostile.
Many witnessed your involvement in the boss’s defeat. Response will vary.
“Yeah,” Mike muttered. “Fear or revenge.”
He limped forward, Lumi glued to his side.
They hadn’t gone thirty meters before the first candidate stepped out from behind a broken tree.
Mike recognized him — a swordsman who had fled early in the fight. His armor was dented, his face streaked with ash, but his eyes shone with something sharp.
Not gratitude.
Opportunity.
“You,” the swordsman said.
Mike didn’t respond.
“You took down the boss.”
Technically, Sael did most of the work, Mike thought bitterly.
He said nothing.
“You weakened it. You drew its attention. Without you, we’d all be dead.”
Mike remained silent.
The swordsman raised his sword.
“So I figure the best way to get stronger…”
He pointed the blade at Mike.
“…is to kill the strongest thing still standing.”
Mike’s spine stiffened.
Lumi growled.
The orb pulsed orange.
Warning: Hostile candidate detected.
Mike’s blade hummed faintly at his hip.
But he couldn’t fight.
Not like this.
Not at 8% health.
Not with no mana.
“You want to kill me?” Mike asked, voice steady somehow.
The swordsman grinned. “Nothing personal. Just playing the System. You’ve got the biggest reward out of the fight. Drop it, and maybe I’ll—”
Mike didn’t let him finish.
Lightning flickered around him for half a heartbeat — not enough to attack, not enough to strike, but enough to warn.
“You’re welcome to try,” Mike said softly. “But I already killed a boss today.”
The swordsman hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Mike saw the calculation in his eyes — wounded target vs risk of unknown class abilities.
Then the man snarled and swung anyway.
He didn’t get far.
An arrow pierced his sword arm from the side.
The swordsman screamed, dropping his blade. He turned—
Three more candidates emerged from the trees.
A ranger with a new bow.
A rogue with daggers.
A cleric with a light staff.
And behind them, a mage with glowing runes up their arms.
“Stand down,” the cleric said. “We all saw what he did. You’re not taking him alone.”
The swordsman hissed and bolted into the trees.
Silence hung.
The mage approached cautiously. “We… aren’t here to fight you,” she said slowly. “Honestly? We’re not here to do anything to you.”
Mike lowered his blade marginally.
“We saw you go toe-to-toe with the Maw,” the ranger said. “No sane person tries that.”
“Are you calling me insane?” Mike asked.
“All of us are insane,” the rogue said cheerfully.
The cleric stepped forward. “We want to talk. When you’re not bleeding everywhere. Our group is forming a temporary alliance. Safety in numbers, and all that.”
Mike stared at them.
He felt Lumi tense against him.
He felt Sael’s absence like a hole in his chest.
He felt exhausted, broken, but…
…alive.
“Not today,” Mike said quietly. “I need to rest first.”
The cleric nodded. “We’ll be nearby. The region is unstable now. The Maw’s death changed the mana flow.”
“What does that mean?” Mike asked.
The ranger pointed deeper into the forest. “It means the boss wasn’t the only thing hunting. Bigger things will come now that the territory’s open.”
Mike swallowed.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
“We’ll talk later,” the cleric said. “If you’re willing.”
They disappeared into the woods.
Mike exhaled.
Lumi bumped his chin.
“Yeah,” Mike whispered. “We’ll figure it out.”
Far away, the Tutorial Administrator watched.
His illusion screen showed Mike limping through the forest, the fox guarding him like a tiny lightning-charged knight, the orb pulsing softly beside them.
The Administrator leaned back on his floating platform, eyes glowing faintly.
“Well, well,” he murmured. “You didn’t die.”
A hint of admiration touched his smile.
“Not bad… for a mortal.”
Another god approached — a younger one, armored in silver scales.
“Administrator,” the dragon-god said. “Should we intervene? That boss wasn’t meant to roam. Candidate casualties are abnormally high.”
The Administrator waved a hand lazily. “Unnecessary. The tutorial is functioning within acceptable parameters.”
The younger god frowned. “But the anomaly—”
“Is mine.”
The god froze.
“…Yours?”
The Administrator smirked.
“Yes. And I would prefer not to be interrupted.”
The younger god bowed repeatedly and vanished.
The Administrator turned back to the screen, chin resting in his hand.
Lightning flickered behind his eyes, accompanied by the faintest ripple of chaos.
“Grow stronger, Michael Storm,” he said softly. “I want to see how far you’ll go.”
Mike finally reached a small rise overlooking a stream.
He collapsed to his knees. Lumi crawled into his lap and curled tightly, exhausted and trembling.
Mike stroked him gently.
“Sael…” he whispered.
The fox pressed closer.
The orb dimmed respectfully.
Night fell quietly around them.
Mike stared at the dark canopy above, pain pulsing in every limb.
“I’ll make it worth it,” he said softly. “I swear.”
His eyes closed.
Lumi kept watch.
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