...and in this new world, survival was all that mattered.
Cabal took a deep breath, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the air in this strange place. Everything here was sharper, more vivid, as if the world around him was hyper-real, far beyond anything he had experienced before. The towering structures pulsed with light, and the figures around him—fellow fighters, survivors of their own brutal pasts—were beginning to stir, taking in their surroundings just as he had.
The man who had brought him here had vanished, leaving Cabal alone in this vast, alien space. The other fighters seemed just as confused and wary, glancing around with wide eyes, some clutching their fists or reaching for weapons that no longer existed. There was a palpable tension in the air—a shared sense of unease, as though each one of them knew instinctively that they were being tested. And not all of them would survive.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the air, deep and mechanical, vibrating the very ground beneath Cabal's feet.
"**Welcome to Eschaton Simulation. You have been chosen for the Reset.**"
The voice was disembodied, omnipresent, as if the entire realm was speaking to them at once. Cabal felt a chill run down his spine, but he stood firm, refusing to show fear. He had fought his entire life in the underground, against men like Ran, and worse—this was just another battle, another test of his will.
"**In this simulation, you will compete for dominance. Only the strongest will rise to the top.**"
As the voice spoke, the ground beneath them began to shift again, this time with more intensity. Panels of light shot up from the platform they stood on, forming walls, barriers, and obstacles that twisted and rearranged themselves, transforming the once open void into a sprawling labyrinth.
"**Each of you will be given access to new abilities, new strengths. But be warned—there are no second chances.**"
Before Cabal could process the words, a glowing symbol appeared in front of his face. It hovered in the air for a moment before embedding itself in his chest, sending a wave of energy surging through his body. He gasped as the sensation spread, his muscles tightening, his senses heightening, his mind filling with new knowledge.
A *status window* appeared in his vision, transparent but vivid, displaying information in a language he instinctively understood.
---
**Cabal: The Struggler**
- **Strength:** 15
- **Agility:** 12
- **Endurance:** 18
- **Intelligence:** 9
- **Skills:**
- **Survivor's Instinct (Passive):** Increases endurance and pain tolerance by 30%.
- **Brawler's Edge (Active):** Increases damage dealt in close-quarters combat by 20% for 30 seconds.
- **Unique Trait:** *Indomitable* – Cannot be knocked out or incapacitated in battle until HP reaches zero.
---
Cabal's eyes widened as he absorbed the information. This wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. His fights had always been about raw skill and instinct, but now... now there was something more. Abilities, stats, skills—like a game, but far more dangerous, far more real.
Around him, the other fighters were receiving their own status windows, some reacting with confusion, others with excitement. A few of the more experienced ones were already experimenting with their new powers, summoning flames in their hands or warping the space around them. Cabal clenched his fists, feeling the surge of power within him. He didn't have any flashy abilities, but he didn't need them. All he had ever relied on was his fists—and now they were stronger than ever.
The voice returned, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"**Your goal is simple. Survive. Eliminate your opponents. Only one will rise to claim the new world.**"
The labyrinth around them solidified, walls of light forming an intricate maze that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. Cabal scanned his surroundings, his instincts kicking in. He needed to find a strategy—something that would give him an edge over the others.
Without warning, the ground beneath them began to crackle, and a loud *boom* reverberated through the arena. A distant roar echoed from somewhere within the maze, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. Whatever was coming, it wasn't human.
The voice spoke one final time before going silent.
"**Let the Eschaton Simulation begin.**"
Cabal didn't waste a second. He sprinted forward, weaving through the maze, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it—the fight for his life, and this time, there were no spectators, no announcers, no bets. Just survival.
As he ran, he could hear the sounds of combat erupting around him—clashes of metal, screams of pain, and the sickening crunch of bones. The others were already fighting, using their newfound powers to tear each other apart.
Cabal gritted his teeth. He needed to find a way to use his environment, to outlast the others. He wasn't the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest—but he was the toughest. And that had always been enough.
He rounded a corner, his eyes scanning for any signs of an ambush. He'd fought in dirty places before—this was no different. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the shadows, lunging at him with a blade in hand.
Cabal reacted instantly, his body moving on instinct. He sidestepped the attack, grabbing the attacker's arm and twisting it violently. The blade clattered to the ground as Cabal drove his knee into the man's stomach, sending him crumpling to the floor.
Before the man could recover, Cabal stomped down hard on his neck, ending the fight in seconds. He didn't even have time to process the kill—he just kept moving.
In this world, there was no time for hesitation. No time for regret.
As he continued deeper into the labyrinth, Cabal's mind raced. The voice had said there would be only one winner, but Cabal wasn't just fighting for himself. He was fighting to escape the cycle of suffering he'd been trapped in his whole life. If this was his chance to break free, to rise above the simulation, then he would take it.
No matter the cost.
Because in this new era, there were no rules.
Only survival...and survival was all Cabal had ever known.
The maze twisted and shifted around him, its walls gleaming with an unnatural light. His senses, heightened by the strange energy now coursing through his veins, picked up the subtle vibrations in the air—the sound of distant footsteps, the hum of approaching danger.
*Stay sharp,* he thought, pushing his body forward despite the aching in his limbs. His mind replayed the instructions the voice had given them: survive, eliminate, rise. A simple directive, but the complexity lay in execution. Every corner could hold a new enemy, every shadow a threat.
He sprinted through the narrow corridors, his eyes darting between the ever-shifting walls. He wasn't the only one on the move. In the distance, he caught glimpses of others—fighters like him, each driven by desperation, by the singular desire to live. He saw a woman conjuring lightning, crackling energy dancing between her fingers as she faced off against a man whose body flickered in and out of existence, teleporting across the battlefield like a wraith.
Cabal didn't engage. Not yet. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself, not until he understood the rules of this new reality. Instead, he kept moving, searching for anything he could use to his advantage—a weapon, a safe haven, or a place to regroup.
But then, as he rounded another corner, he came face-to-face with a beast.
The creature stood at least twice his height, its body covered in jagged, metallic scales that glowed with an eerie, pulsating light. Its eyes were cold and calculating, its maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. Cabal's instincts screamed at him to run, but he knew there was no escape. The labyrinth was designed to force them into confrontation, to push them to their limits.
The beast roared, its voice echoing through the corridors, and charged at him with terrifying speed.
Cabal didn't flinch. His feet planted firmly on the ground, he braced himself for the impact. The moment the creature lunged, Cabal dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. His heart pounded, but his mind remained clear. He was a brawler—he had faced worse than this.
He lashed out with a brutal punch, his knuckles connecting with the beast's armored hide. The blow sent a shockwave up his arm, but the creature barely flinched. Cabal cursed under his breath. *Brawler's Edge* activated, boosting his strength for a brief window. He had to make every hit count.
The beast swung its massive claw, aiming to cleave him in two, but Cabal ducked low, slipping under the attack. He retaliated with a flurry of punches, each one aimed at the creature's weak spots—its joints, its exposed underbelly. The strikes landed with precision, and Cabal could feel the damage accumulating, though the beast was far from beaten.
Then, it happened.
A searing pain shot through Cabal's side as the beast's tail whipped around, striking him with bone-crushing force. He was thrown against the labyrinth wall, gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs. Blood trickled down his side, but he forced himself to stand, wiping it away with the back of his hand. The beast advanced, its eyes gleaming with the hunger of a predator closing in for the kill.
Cabal's mind raced. He couldn't overpower it—not directly. But he didn't need to.
Survivor's Instinct kicked in, heightening his awareness. He scanned his surroundings, looking for anything that could tip the scales. That's when he saw it—a section of the labyrinth wall that seemed weaker, cracked from the constant shifting. If he could lure the creature toward it…
The beast charged again, its footsteps thundering like a drumbeat of doom. Cabal gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body screaming in protest as he forced himself to run toward the cracked wall. Just as the beast lunged at him, Cabal dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way. The creature smashed headfirst into the wall, the impact sending a cascade of debris crashing down around it.
For a moment, the beast was stunned, disoriented by the blow. Cabal didn't waste the opportunity. With a primal roar, he leaped onto the creature's back, his fists hammering down on its skull with relentless fury. Each punch was more powerful than the last, his strength fueled by desperation, by the knowledge that this was his only chance.
Finally, with one last brutal strike, the beast's body went limp beneath him. Its glowing eyes flickered and dimmed, the light fading from its scales. Cabal collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, his hands trembling from the exertion.
But there was no time to rest. He knew that others would have heard the fight, that they would come looking for the source of the noise. Cabal forced himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face. His status window flickered into view again, showing a slight increase in his strength and endurance stats. The fight had made him stronger, but it had also left him more vulnerable.
He glanced down at the beast's body. Its scales, though dulled, still held a faint glow, and its claws glinted with a deadly sharpness. Cabal crouched beside it, prying one of the massive claws from its paw. It would serve as a makeshift weapon for now—better than his bare fists.
As he stood, gripping the claw tightly, the ground beneath him trembled once more. The labyrinth was shifting again, its walls rearranging, its paths changing. Cabal's heart sank as he realized that the maze was alive, adapting to their movements, ensuring that there would be no easy escape.
But that didn't matter.
Cabal had survived this long, and he would continue to survive.
Because in this new world, survival wasn't just about strength.
It was about knowing when to fight… and when to keep moving forward.
With his new weapon in hand, Cabal took a deep breath and disappeared into the ever-changing maze, ready to face whatever came next.