“Please... Lower your bow. I am not a threat,” he said, his voice calm, yet strangely unmoving.
I found it hard to believe. He patted the seat next to him, signaling for me to sit. On the screen, one of the characters was running silently through the woods, their movements frantic, but in the stillness of the theater, it felt weirdly comical.
I walked closer, keeping my bow trained on him, every muscle coiled, ready to fire at the slightest twitch. He followed my progress, turning slightly in his chair to face me, the easy smile never leaving his face. Now that he was sideways, I could see him clearly. He was a slight Chinese man, about my age, with close-cropped hair and an angular face. The glow of the screen bounced off his spectacles, obscuring his eyes. His clothes were simple, a polo shirt and dress pants, yet something about him felt completely out of place in the context of this hellish world.
How could this man be the boss? He looked so... normal.
Once again, he patted the seat beside him, his gesture an insistent invitation for me to sit. I walked down the lane between rows and stopped at the row he was in, but didn’t take the chair. Instead, I leaned against the backrest of the chair behind me, my bow still trained on him, poised to strike.
“No... I’d rather stand if it’s all the same to you,” I said, my voice tight with restraint.
He nodded, placing his arm over the seat beside him, the popcorn bucket on his lap teetering precariously.
“I’m Shen,” he said, extending his hand as if offering a handshake.
I stayed silent. I wanted him to talk first. He obliged without hesitation.
“I’ve seen this movie a hundred times,” he said, gesturing to the screen. “I still find it amusing. The meta-commentary of it all.”
I frowned, my frustration rising. “So what is this? You love horror movies and decided to unleash them on us?” I snapped, unable to hold back. “You’re human. You’re one of us. Why are you doing this?” My voice cracked slightly, the anger and desperation mixing as I abandoned my plan to let him speak. The initial plan was to buy me time for the rest of the team to get up here. But seeing him so calm, watching a movie while eating from a fucking popcorn bucket riled me up.
His smile faltered, just for a moment, before he replied in a quiet, almost weary tone. “Yes. I am human. My initial class was a Mesmerist. When I reached level 10, I multi-classed into Physicist and... well, something happened. You know what? Why don’t I just show you?”
He turned his attention back to the screen as the movie faded, and a new scene began to play. On the screen, Shen, along with a few others, was running through a basement carpark, fighting off a ghoul-type mob. Shen flicked his fingers, and a pillar appeared out of nowhere, shielding them from the mob’s sight. The scene shifted quickly, a montage of their party getting into one tight spot after another, only for Shen’s projections, brick walls, copies of the mobs themselves, to intervene at the last possible moment, saving them each time.
But then the scene shifted again, this time to the inside of a house. One of the party members sat on a sofa, his face buried in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Shen entered from off-screen, walking slowly and speaking softly to the man.
I heard Shen’s voice beside me, breaking the heavy silence. “He was missing his child...” His words were quiet, barely above a whisper, as if even saying them aloud hurt him. “I... I thought I could help.”
On the screen, a young girl materialized in front of the man on the couch. The man’s breath hitched, and he leaned back into the sofa, eyes wide, before rushing forward, scooping the girl into his arms, clutching her as though he had been starved for her touch.
“I hadn’t mastered my skills at that point,” Shen continued, his voice thick with regret. “I could only make her appear for a few minutes before she’d dissipate. I hadn’t learned to make the manifestations permanent…” His voice trailed off as he grew silent, lost in the weight of his own memory.
I glanced at him, momentarily breaking my gaze from the screen. His eyes were moist, his expression tight with the burden of whatever he was reliving. The smile was gone now, replaced by a stern look.
When I turned back to the screen, the mood had shifted. The man on the couch was now being restrained by the other party members. Shen, still in the background, cowered as the scene played out. The man, frantic, was shouting, trying to break free. Shen stood helpless, hands covering his head, backing away.
I swallowed hard. This man, this thing, had once tried to help someone. But at what cost? I could guess what he’d done.
“I thought… I could give him a moment of happiness by giving him his daughter, even just for a while, but…” Shen’s voice trailed off, his words thick with regret.
I swallowed again, the weight of his confession pressing down on me. I didn’t know how I would react if anyone had done that for me. If anyone had brought back Amira…
Do I even want her back? For her to exist in this world of blood and monsters…
The screen shifted, and the scene changed again. I saw Shen running alone, stumbling toward and eventually into Causeway Point. His movements were frantic, desperate. He collapsed into the open elevator, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The elevator doors closed by themselves, and it took him up to the seventh floor. I noticed he did not press any buttons.
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The camera followed him as the doors opened. Shen stepped out hesitantly, his footsteps slow and unsure. He crossed the empty food court with uncertain steps, stumbling over overturned tables and chairs. I saw him fall on the steps leading up to the multiplex entrance, his hands bracing against the cold floor to catch himself.
Then, a strange white glow emerged from the wide entrance. The same entrance I walked through earlier. The glow was soft, almost ethereal, and it started to cover him. Shen lay still for a moment, and the glow continued to pulse around him, finally enveloping him.
The memory faded, and the screen went back to the horror movie. Two men in dress shirts and ties were arguing in a sterile looking office.
I was left in heavy silence. Shen had meant well. But his powers were dangerous if used wrongly.
Shen turned to me then, his face softening as he broke the silence.
“That was the moment it all changed,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “That was when I realized, people… Some people are not worthy of helping.” His eyes were hollow now, staring at something far beyond the confines of this theater.
I stood there, unsure of what to say. The person in front of me, the one I had believed to be a monster, wasn't a monster at all. He was someone who had been broken, just like everyone else in this hell. But how much of that was his fault? And how much of it was the system’s design?
I wanted to ask him more, to demand answers. But something in the air held me back. I didn’t need more explanations. I didn’t need more of his justifications. What I needed was a way out of this nightmare. And Shen… he might be the key to it all. Or maybe the one thing standing in my way.
This doesn’t need to be a fight.
His powers were dangerous, yes. But if guided in the right direction, I could see how he could be very useful. All he needed, was a friend.
“Shen…” I began, wanting to plead with his humanity to stop all this, to help each other out. I wanted to say people were dying, and he had the power to stop it. I never got the chance.
“Would you like to see what I could offer you?” he interrupted me, still facing the screen. “Look…” he pointed forward.
I turned back to the screen. The scene was now in black and white, like I was watching an I Love Lucy rerun. We were no longer watching the horror movie. Instead, the camera panned to show a house, simply furnished and clean. It was my house. Gone were the bloodshed and the strewn items from last I visited it. The camera moved as if we were following someone’s point of view, turning into the kitchen.
And there she was. Amira. My Amira. I caught my breath as I felt my arms lowering my bow. I moved towards the screen. Somewhere in the back of mind, I knew this was wrong but my legs were not obeying me.
She was cutting up potatoes, like it was just a regular weekend. She was preparing ingredients to cook. I could see various bowls with lamb cuts, spices, onions… I could almost smell it. My favorite Lamb Bryani. She liked preparing things in advance before cooking. I knew if the camera panned to the living room, I was probably there, cigarette in my mouth, drinks on the coffee table, playing some stupid video game on the TV.
“A… Amira…” I found myself whispering.
“I could give this to you, Chris,” Shen said behind me. “I could make this real. We can carve out a pocket in this world, just for you. You could live the life you deserve. The life you wanted.”
She looked up then and gave a warm smile, pushing a loose tendril of her wavy hair behind her ear with her pinky. Someone else appeared from beneath the camera’s view, running toward Amira. It was a girl, about three years old, in a pretty little dress. Amira stopped what she was doing and bent down to pick her up, pulling her into a tight hug. She kissed the girl lightly on the forehead, and they both turned to look at the camera. To look at me…
“You just have to say the word Chris.” Shen said, his voice low and steady. “All I want is for people to be happy…”
I swallowed. My chest was tight, my throat dry. The screen flickered and divided into four rectangles, each view playing out a different scene. On the top left, Amira and the little girl were waving and beckoning to me.
“Some of your friends already made it up here, and they are about to make the choice as well.” he spoke quietly.
On the top right view, a teenage boy stood in a carpark with his hands in his pockets, in front of a large family, who were packing suitcases into several cars. It was Shawn. He was just a teen, but I could recognize him.
“Shawn is reliving the day his entire family died, on the way to Genting Highlands for a holiday. Shawn stayed behind as he had things he wanted to do. That was the day he was left alone and soon entered foster care.”
On screen, Shawn waved and said something, then ran off screen. He came back shortly with a full backpack and entered the car, his dad, I presumed, laughing as he bundled Shawn in.
I… I didn’t know what to say. I covered my mouth, stifling a gasp. Shawn had lost his family and this was a chance to get them back. No… he was joining them. To… to his death? Was that what he wanted?
The view below that showed Jess, doing her rounds in a hospital. She was in scrubs and holding a clipboard. She entered a private room where an elderly lady sat, leaning back on a hospital bed. She took a brief look at the lady’s chart and bent over to hug the lady, who smiled and started crying. Jess was crying too. Soon, a few people came into the room, holding flowers and balloons. One of the balloons said, ‘Fuck Cancer.’ Jess looked disapprovingly at that balloon before laughing and going around hugging everyone.
On the last screen, Siva was on the fourth floor of the other wing. He was fighting and running. He swung behind him to cut down a fluffy giant rabbit, blood splashing across his face. He took a long breath before running to the escalator.
“Your young friend will be here soon, and we all know what he wants. I could give it to him, Chris. I could give your friends everything they ever wanted. All you have to do is say ‘Yes.’”
I lowered my head, sweat forming on my brow. My hands were trembling. My feet felt glued to the floor. The urge to agree with him was strong. Why shouldn’t we be happy? Why shouldn't all of us be... happy... But something was wrong. I knew Shawn was weird, but he would never have wanted to die. The way he fought with us, showed his will to live. And Jess… Her mom died when she was younger. Not when she was already a doctor.
I glanced back up at the screen. Amira had the girl on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging merrily. They both smiled and beckoned to me again.
“I…” I started to say, turning to face Shen. He leaned forward, his face eager, his benevolent smile turning into a grin.
“I… I never wanted children, you dumb fuck!” I growled as I raised my bow and shot an arrow straight at his stupid face.
He stumbled back, raising his hands as a colony of bats appeared, flying right in front of him, intercepting my arrow and taking the hit for him. He scrambled over the theater seats, running for the exit. Behind me, more creatures burst through the screens. I turned to face them. A clan of werewolves were charging at me.
I could already hear growls from outside the theater.
These... were from Dog Soldiers... Fucking hell.
I quickly pulled up my HUD, scrolled through the party member list, selected Siva, and cast [Summon Ally].
Harvey died. So did everyone else in his integration trial, but death is only a minor inconvenience to The System. In fact, a bunch of dead humans are the perfect opponents for the Undead Army headed for Earth.
In this world:
- Skills aren't picked from a list—they're forged from lived experiences.
- You don’t get titles just for doing something cool once. Your legacy is marked and stained by who you really are, and you'll have the tattoos to prove it.
- It's not all about levels and loot—it's about legacy. Who do you become when the world ends?
LitRPG Survival Progression Fantasy Novels like Primal Hunter and Defiance of the Fall, I wrote this book for you!