Sehuan's fists and feet become a blur, smashing into the goat-men with a ferocity born of desperation. They come at him from all sides, snarling and snapping, but he meets each one with a deadly strike, their bodies crumpling under his brutal assault.
Amid the chaos, Sehuan's eyes lock onto a horrifying sight—one of his classmates, skewered by a wooden spear, blood pooling beneath the twisted leg. The boy's scream cuts through the din, a wail of pure agony that slices into Sehuan's soul.
Without hesitation, Sehuan hurls himself through the fray, his body a weapon, his mind a storm. He slashes and kicks his way to the fallen boy, fending off the goat-men with a savagery that speaks of nothing but survival.
"Can you still move?" Sehuan's voice is harsh, ragged with effort, as he pulls the wounded classmate to his feet.
The boy nods weakly, his face pale, eyes glazed with pain and fear. Sehuan drags him toward the center of their group, his heart pounding, every sense screaming.
"Healer!" Sehuan's voice cracks like a whip. "This one needs attention!"
The healer stumbles over, her face ghostly with exhaustion, dark circles under her eyes betraying her dwindling mana. Her hands glow faintly as she works, but Sehuan can see the effort is draining her beyond her limits.
"Fuck," Sehuan mutters under his breath, glancing at the wave's progress. "If we don't end this soon, we're all dead."
Number of players dead [0/1]
The wave is nearly over, but the price of survival is steep. Sehuan's body is screaming, every muscle burning, but he forces himself to keep moving, driven by sheer will and the fear of losing those around him.
Finally, the wave ends. Sehuan collapses to the ground, the weight of his exhaustion pulling him down as he stares up at the ceiling—at the countless eyes watching them, all sizes and shapes, silently judging.
"Fuckers," he spits, his voice low, venomous.
As he curses the gods, his gaze shifts to the classmate he just saved. The boy is crumpled into a fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. Pity stirs in Sehuan's chest, and he moves closer, offering a few words of comfort. "We'll make it through this. Just hold on."
The others finish off the last of the goat-men, and the group gathers in a circle at the center, tension thick in the air. Sehuan is about to say something to lift their spirits when a classmate abruptly cuts him off.
"We can't go on like this," the voice says, cold and grim. "Someone has to die so the rest of us can live."
Sehuan's blood runs cold. He springs to his feet, his body protesting the movement. "No! We just need to survive a bit longer, and we wi—"
"And then what?" The classmate snaps, cutting him off. "We can't leave until someone dies. We need to kill the weakest, and that's Dave. I speak for everyone here."
Sehuan looks around, and his heart sinks. No one speaks up against the suggestion. Their eyes, filled with desperation, are fixed on him, silently agreeing with the gruesome logic.
Fury surges through Sehuan. "I won't let you kill Dave. None of you are dying on my watch. If you agree with me, stand up. Let's make this unanimous."
But no one moves. Silence hangs heavy in the air, only the glint of desperation in their eyes staring back at him.
Suddenly, he hears a shuffle behind him—Dave is standing. Hope flares in Sehuan's chest as he turns, ready to assure Dave that he won't let him die.
But pain explodes in his chest. He looks down in shock, blood blossoming from his chest where Dave has plunged a sword deep into his heart.
The blade is pulled out with a sickening squelch. Sehuan stumbles, clutching at the wound, blood pouring between his fingers.
"He-Healer," he gasps, desperate, eyes wide with terror. But the Healer doesn't move. She just sits there, watching him die with those same desperate eyes.
Sehuan collapses, his vision blurring as he stares up at Dave. "Why? Dave, why? I helped you! So why?!"
Tears stream down Dave's face. "I'm sorry, Sehuan. I don't want to die. I just want to live. I'm so sorry."
Sehuan's strength fades as the blood pool around him grows. His gaze drifts upward, meeting the god's unblinking eyes above.
Number of players dead [1/1]
As the wave ends, Sehuan's consciousness slips away. The people he saved, the ones he trained, they all watch him die, turning away to claim their reward, ignoring his fading cries.
You fuckers, Sehuan thinks bitterly as darkness swallows him. I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? Fuckers, all of you.
Suddenly, the world turns pitch black. His body, once heavy with pain, feels light as if he's floating. Then, with a sudden jolt, Sehuan opens his eyes again.
"So, this is what the other side looks like, huh? Empty." His voice is hollow, devoid of emotion. He wants to cry, not from the pain of dying but from the betrayal of those he trusted. But there's nothing left inside him.
He looks up and sees a god's eye staring down at him, still watching, still taunting. "Even in death, you won't leave me in peace, huh? ...You win, you fucking win."
Sehuan sighs, the sound echoing in the emptiness, before he falls back, floating in the void.
But then, a presence disturbs the stillness. He looks up to see the eye descending toward him.
[How courageous of you, helping that young fellow. Your sacrifice, your will... and for what? Death, by the very hand of the one you saved.]
The voice chuckles, the sound reverberating through the abyss. Sehuan listens, too empty to respond.
[You gave them your heart, and they repaid you with a blade through it. Poetic, don't you think?]
[You thought by living honestly, with a good heart, those around you would follow suit. You believed life was as simple as black and white.]
The voice laughs, a sound full of scorn. Sehuan wants to deny it, but he can't. The voice is right.
[But that's not how the world works, you naive fool. Life isn't about being the hero or the villain. It's about the strong claiming victory, and with it, the power to decide what's right and wrong.]
[Out of all the fools I've seen in this game, you stand out, not for your strength or skill, but for your unbearable naivety.]
[Fools like you always forget to help yourself before helping others and choose to instead sacrifice themselves for the majority, foolish.]
The voice sighs, a sound of deep disappointment.
[But fools like you amuse me. So, I'll give you another chance at life. Entertain me, you foolish puppet.]
Sehuan's anger flares at the memory of his classmates' betrayal. But the thought of living again tempers his rage. "Fine. I'll play along."
A hand appears before him, grotesque and gnarled, with long, filthy fingernails. It reminds him of a bird's talon. Sehuan stares at it for a moment before shaking it. The void around him begins to consume him, pulling him into the abyss as the voice's laughter echoes all around.
Sehuan wakes up, finding himself sitting on the bleachers of his school gymnasium.