First Test!
Seraphine cast one final, piercing glance over the students before vanishing, leaving them alone at the entrance of the simulated dungeon. "Survive for at least five hours or complete the hidden mission," were her parting words. The air was thick with tension and anticipation, and each student felt the weight of the task ahead.
Jon, his sword hanging by his side, adjusted his stance. He glanced at Elija and then at Gwen, who was standing farther away. 'This is going to be interesting,' he thought, a mix of excitement and apprehension filling him.
Without further ado, the group of students advanced into the first sector of the dungeon, weapons at the ready. The atmosphere was gloomy, lit only by torches casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The floor was damp, and the air heavy with the smell of mold and decay.
And then, the zombies appeared. At first, they were just staggering silhouettes in the shadows, but they quickly became a tangible threat. Yet the students, perhaps fueled by adrenaline or the need to prove their worth, dealt with them with relative ease. Swords sliced through rotting flesh, arrows found their marks with deadly accuracy, and Gwen's fiery spells lit up the darkness, burning anything in their path.
Jon carefully observed each move of the group as they progressed through the dungeon. Everything was going surprisingly well, which only heightened his apprehension. 'Maybe this is the calm before the storm,' he thought, his eyes scanning the faces of the students, many of whom looked relieved.
Then, the inevitable happened. One student, perhaps intoxicated by the initial success, let his guard down. In the blink of an eye, he was surrounded by zombies. His screams of terror and pain echoed off the stone walls of the dungeon, shattering the false sense of security that had settled in. The group halted, stunned. All eyes were on the fallen student's body, now reduced to a heap of mutilated flesh.
Jon felt the atmosphere shift as if a cold blade had cut through the air. 'This is just the beginning,' he thought, looking at the pale faces and wide eyes of his classmates. Before he could say anything to regroup, a girl began to scream, setting off a chain reaction of screams and tears. It was clear to Jon that, except for him and Gwen, almost no one there had dungeon experience.
Chaos ensued. One by one, students were "killed," their expressions of horror and agonizing screams filling the air. By the time they cleared the first sector of the dungeon, 15 of the original 60 students lay dead on the dungeon floor.
The air in the simulated dungeon was charged with almost palpable tension, as if the very environment was holding its breath. The scream of a student, now silenced forever, still reverberated off the stone walls. The group stood paralyzed, their eyes fixed on the ground where the student's body lay, a grotesque pile of flesh and blood.
"Damn, is this really just a test?" one student murmured, his voice shaky. "I don't want to die here," another sobbed, momentarily forgetting that death here was an illusion, albeit too convincing to ignore.
Jon felt the weight of the situation like an anchor pulling him down. In his previous life, he was a recluse, someone who avoided the outside world and its complexities. Leadership? That was as far removed from his skill set as the sun from a dark cave. But here and now, circumstances were different.
'I need every point I can get on this test,' he thought, his mind racing. He was still an unknown peasant in this world, and every action, every decision he made here could be the stepping stone to a better future. He needed a mentor, a sponsor, someone to assist him in his future plans.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jon rose to his feet. His eyes swept across the group, meeting faces marked by fear, uncertainty, and perhaps, hope.
"Listen," he began, his voice steadier than he had anticipated. "I know what we've just witnessed was horrifying. But we can't forget that this is a test. A cruel one, yes, but a test nonetheless. Those who died, died because they were unprepared, not because survival is impossible."
A murmur of conversation broke out, some voices tinged with skepticism, others with reluctant curiosity.
"If we stay here, paralyzed by fear, then we've already failed," Jon continued, feeling a thread of confidence weave into his words. "We don't know if this place is safe in the long run. We need to move forward, learn from the mistakes of those who fell, and do better."
Just as Jon felt he might have united the group, a voice sliced through the silence, laden with disdain.
"And who exactly appointed you our leader, half-breed?" The voice belonged to Lysander Aston, a human with black hair and blue eyes that radiated almost palpable confidence.
Jon looked at him, immediately noting the racial similarity. 'Another human,' he thought, an ironic smile touching his lips. In Aeloria, where the only difference between races was hair color, thanks to the "MOD," humans still found a way to consider themselves superior. How ironic.
Lysander continued, "I get the emotional appeal of your speech, but let's face the facts. Fifteen of us are dead. And you want us to move forward to what? Encounter more dangers? Maybe you have nothing to lose, but some of us have families, legacies, and futures we don't want to throw away on a whim."
Around him, Jon noticed several other black-haired students nodding in agreement with Lysander. It seemed he wasn't the only one questioning the wisdom of moving forward.
'So, perhaps my real enemy in Aeloria is humanity,' Jon thought, the irony of the situation not escaping him. But he knew he couldn't let Lysander dismantle the fragile cohesion he had just built.
"I understand your concerns, Lysander," Jon replied, keeping his voice calm. "But this is a test, and in tests, we are evaluated. If we stay here, paralyzed by fear, then we've already failed. And who's to say this place will remain safe? Maybe the real test is to see who has the courage to move forward, despite the risks."
Lysander stared at him, his blue eyes assessing. For a moment, silence returned to fill the room, each student weighing the words from both sides.