Evolved Realtime Interdimensional Field Tide.

  Or e-RIFT for short. If normal-ranked RIFTs weren’t trouble enough, seven years ago, the world saw its first evolved RIFT.

  Ward 3, Neo-Tokyo.

  Since then, it had become a one-in-twenty occurrence. No one knew what triggered a RIFT to evolve. Even today, despite technological advancements and countless studies, it remains shrouded in mystery. Nor did anyone know how to detect it. Otherwise, Players would be ready, and there would be fewer casualties.

  All anyone knew was this:

  When it happened, it happened. There were no indicators, no warnings; everything changed in the blink of an eye.

  And the difficulty jump could either be minimal – if you were lucky, it would only rise one rank – and you could still clear it with the same party. But if you weren’t, and the rank increased by two or more, then it was hell.

  “SS-Rank, huh?”

  A weak smile etched itself onto Jin’s face as he realised the RIFT that had trapped him – the one he’d failed to escape from had been classified as the highest-rated one. A far cry from its initial F-Rank. Eight ranks jump in an instant.

  In other words, it was the worst luck imaginable.

  And today, he was going to relive that scene. Only this time it was with the rest of the class inside a virtual reality simulator.

  To add a sense of déjà vu, the instructor for today’s training was a familiar face.

  Standing nearly seven feet tall, the tanned, bald hulk commanded silence and reverence. Even fear as it flickered across some of the students’ faces. The old, deep scar slashing across the left side of his face and the fresher one on his right cheek could tame the brattiest of brats. And the stump of his left arm sealed the deal.

  He was none other than Duane ‘Ironshield’ Johnson.

  Timothy and the younger kids had been docile lambs for the first half of class. The older students listened attentively. Or pretended to.

  “Although e-RIFTs don’t cause Cataclysms if left uncleared unlike normal RIFTs, they’re still dangerous,” Ironshield said. “Very dangerous. So, I need you to be extra careful out there today.”

  “Dangerous? But I thought RIFTs were fun, Instructor Ironshield!” Timothy raised his hand, grinning from ear to ear.

  Before Ironshield could answer, the older students cut in.

  “Fun? Are you stupid, kid? RIFTs aren’t fun!”

  “One wrong move and you’re dead!” another added.

  “B-But… we can use our powers, right?” Timothy insisted, swinging an imaginary sword. “Bam! Swoosh! My blade’ll cut ‘em baddies in half!”

  His naivety – or innocence – might have been endearing at first. Tolerated even. But now? It was grating.

  Emilia, leading the older students, snapped. “Oi, you stupid brat! Think this is your backyard? If you want to play hero, do it elsewhere! You’re nothing but a weakling!”

  “Yeah!” a teenage girl chimed in, emboldened by Emilia’s directness. “This isn’t some make-believe game for snot-nosed kids like you!”

  “You’re too young. Too stupid and too ugly to be a hero. Not even in your wildest dream.”

  The rest of the class laughed. Timothy’s face crumpled as tears welled in his eyes. Jin opted to stay out of it. Unless it turned to bullying, he wouldn’t interfere. Let kids be kids.

  “Enough.” Ironshield’s voice cut through the noise, his expression darkening. “What you think of the RIFT is your choice. But”–his gaze swept the room–“if you want to survive inside one? If you want to live long enough to enjoy its rewards? Then shut your bloody mouth up! Did I say you can ask questions?”

  No better motivator existed. Jin nodded in agreement. Too much talking, no one listening.

  After all, RIFTs might be fantastical; a place where Players lived out their wildest dreams through power. But the fact remained – they were still deadly. Especially if you went in unprepared.

  No. Even if you come prepared, there was no telling what would happen inside a RIFT.

  “Now suit up. When you’re ready, get into the pods.”

  Jin had no trouble with the white bodysuit and limb harnesses, where he would then be strapped into a VR Combat Pod. The suit fitted him nicely, almost as if he were some kind of mecha pilot.

  Unfortunately, the younger students, especially Timothy, were having problems.

  “You’re wearing it upside-down, kid.” Jin knelt beside Timothy. “Need help?”

  After a short hesitation and a few glances darted toward the older students who were already suited up, Timothy and the others nodded.

  “There you go. Next?”

  Jin helped eight kids in total. But one lingered on at the far corner of the room, her hands trembling as she tried to pull her bodysuit up.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “You alright, kid?”

  “I-I’m sorry! I-I’ll get it done. Soon. I promise.”

  Five minutes later, she still hadn’t got it done. The rest of the class waited impatiently by their pods for her. Even Timothy, who struggled earlier, taunted the poor little girl until she broke down in tears.

  Jin slapped the back of Timothy’s head without saying a word and then turned to her.

  The girl’s hands trembled as she clutched the bodysuit, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Jin knelt beside her, his voice softer than usual. “Shinohara, right?” He read her name tag. "First time?"

  The girl nodded. “I-I’m sorry. I-I will-ahh!”

  “Sorry. But you’re making everyone wait here.” Jin turned her around and tightened the six straps around her petite frame. “Done. Now get to your pod and wait for instructions from Ironshield.”

  The VR Combat Pods lined in neat, imposing rows at the other end of the virtual training arena, their sleek black cockpits gleaming under the lights. Each pod stood slightly ajar, the padded interiors revealing a web of harnesses and a reclined seat designed to mould to the user’s body, regardless of his shape or size.

  A faint hum filled the air as the systems powered up. Ironshield moved between the pods with practised ease, checking the calibration of each unit before strapping his student inside. Double check. Triple check until he was satisfied.

  And finally, it was Jin’s turn. The seat swaddled to his body as the harnesses automatically tightened around his chest, arms, and legs.

  “Thank you,” Ironshield said as he worked on Jin’s harnesses, making sure they were secured. “The kids are way too nervous for this.”

  “Too nervous, edgy and definitely not ready.” Jin sighed. “But I guess we've got to start somewhere.”

  Ironshield patted Jin’s back once before the door closed with a soft hiss.

  [System to Bodysuit Haptic feedback: All green]

  [Safety Protocol Engaged]

  The VR helmet descended, sealing him in darkness. A voice crackled through the helmet’s speakers.

  It was from Ironshield, his voice calm but strict. "Simulation begins in five. Once you’re inside, wait for my further instructions. Ironshield out."

  “Wow! I’m so excited. I’ve never been inside a RIFT before,” Timothy’s voice cackled through the speaker.

  “Same here! I can’t wait to be in one!” said another.

  A few more joined in, speaking through their comms.

  “Wonder how it looks-oh my god! It’s so beautiful!”

  Timothy’s voice ended there as he appeared first inside the virtual e-RIFT. The rest of the class soon followed.

  And when they saw the world in front of them; a field filled with vibrant, colourful flowers, most, if not all, had the same reaction as Timothy earlier. Some even started to cry.

  “Adapt to your surroundings,” Ironshield’s voice boomed through the comms. “Even if it’s beautiful, proceed with caution.”

  Then, a group of slimes appeared from the corner of the flower field. A single pudgy hobgoblin stood under a tree further up ahead.

  “Learn and observe your enemies. Never engage them if you’re not ready. Or confident.”

  Despite Ironshield’s warning, some of the students did whatever they wanted. Timothy went too close for comfort to the group of slimes, thinking he could slice them in half with a single swing. The monsters grouped and overwhelmed him and his two friends in an instant. The others were not so lucky, mistaking a hornet for a bee. A swarm chased after them.

  A hilarious sight for the observers, but not so much for the one at the other end of the ordeal, virtual reality or not.

  Then again, these were children. Almost blameless, as more often than not, they’d overestimated their strengths and abilities to do things. A mark of overconfidence and unbridled youth.

  Yet, the same could not be said about a certain red-haired princess who should be considered an adult. She had lots of confidence. Lots of youthful exuberance. But without maturity and intellect to go with it.

  Emilia poked the pudgy hobgoblin with her staff, thinking that it would pop into pixels and whatnots. Unfortunately, the monster didn’t disappear. Instead, it chased her, forcing her to run ring around the other students, all of them getting free hits in the process.

  Jin sat on a boulder, watching with a big grin on his face. “So much for having 60,000 CP. Running like a headless chicken and all.”

  “Combat Power is useless if you don’t have a brain to follow it up. And understand instructions. Foregoing orders and warnings.”

  Ironshield’s voice sounded through the speaker.

  “Oops. Did I speak it out loud?”

  “Loud and clear.” Ironshield chuckled. “Switched off team comm.”

  “There. Done.” Jin heaved a sigh of relief. “Luckily, that red-haired princess didn’t hear it. Otherwise, she’d be demanding stuff from me again.”

  “Demanding stuff?” Ironshield asked. “Forget about that. What are you doing, Frank?”

  Jin grinned. “You told us not to engage, right? So, here I am. Not engaging.”

  He could if he wanted to. Walk around. Enjoy the scenery. Join the others for some childish fun. Yet, something didn’t feel right about this whole training. The problem was, he couldn’t pinpoint it.

  “By the way, how real is this VR-thingy anyway?”

  “Real enough,” Ironshield said, his voice suddenly felt detached. “Why?”

  Jin didn’t say anything else. Instead, he went to the group of slimes that were attacking Timothy and his friends. He took an aggro from one, and sure enough, Jin got hit.

  [- 1 HP]

  No pain whatsoever. Another hit followed.

  [- 1 HP]

  He aggroed another slime. Took more hits.

  [- 1 HP]

  [- 1 HP]

  [- 1 HP]

  “Still no pain. Just numbers. So, the system’s tracking damage, but not simulating pain. Thankfully.”

  Jin had 100 HP and 100 MP. It was not his real stats but the ones that were given by the virtual simulator. Every time he suffered a hit, he lost some amount of his Hit Points.

  [Poke]

  Jin cast the only skill provided by the simulator. The slimes burst into pixels.

  [10 MP used]

  [10 MP used]

  “I see. That's what he means, huh?” Jin said as he turned around and walked toward where he had sat earlier.

  Ironshield, who wasn’t there at the start, was already waiting for him. “Real enough?”

  “Well, I guess so.” Jin opened the virtual Player Status Screen. “Level 1. And all the Stamina, Strength, Dexterity, Agility, Wisdom, Intelligence, Luck and Charisma stats are standardised?”

  Ironshield nodded.

  “But don’t you think it's kind of low? Everything at five points.”

  “Low?” Ironshield scoffed. “Depending on your class, five points are high enough.”

  Jin rubbed his chin. “Make sense, I think. I get what the stats are roughly about, but what do Wisdom and Charisma stats actually do for us? I’ve read about it, but it still isn’t clear. Especially Charisma.” He then pointed at Emilia, who had just finished bashing the poor pudgy hobgoblin into a pixel pile. “And she sure doesn’t look wise. Charismatic, maybe. But that doesn’t help one bit, right?”

  “No idea,” Ironshield said. “Even after all the research and with our experiences… my experiences, the two stats’ roles are rather undetermined. Perhaps it has to do with how the System calculated the damage?”

  “You mean the uglier you are, the more damage you’re dealing?” Jin said as he and Ironshield laughed. “And I’m sure as hell being stupid does more damage to yourself.”

  Ironshield's laughter died instantly, before cracking a small, bittersweet smile. His fingers twitched toward the stump of his left arm. "I guess being older doesn’t mean wiser," he said, his voice now quieter. "We always do the stupid stuff. Especially when we think we’re protecting them.“

  Jin knew full well what Ironshield was alluding to. But before he could say anything else, or even to apologise for the ill-timed joke, the virtual sky darkened.

  “Ah! It finally begins.” Ironshield said before switching to team communicator. “Listen up, everyone. The show is about to begin. Whatever you do, stay together. There’s strength in numbers, after all.”

  And then, the very thing Jin was afraid of, happened.

  The virtual RIFT evolved.