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Chapter 2 - Chapter 1: Trapped in Hell

The gates stood before me, towering and immaculate, their gilded hinges gleaming like a cruel joke against the apocalyptic wasteland that was once Earth. They weren't just gates—they were the gates. My supposed salvation, the only way to the next Layer, the key to leaving this cursed world behind.

Their surface shimmered like liquid light, inscribed with strange, ancient runes that I couldn't even begin to understand. The void beyond them glowed an unsettling white, and for a moment, I thought I could feel it pulling me in.

[The Gate of Traversy calls out to you... The gate that allows you to go from world to world, traveling between The Layers.]

The System's notifications always had this eerie detachment, like a machine whispering promises it didn't care to fulfill.

It had been three days since the Revenants. Three days of silence. Three days of scavenging clothes from abandoned stores and making half-hearted jokes to myself just to stay sane. (Because, hey, talking to mannequins is only fun for so long.) I'd patched myself up, bruises fading, cuts scabbing over, all thanks to the System's accelerated healing. Still, my body felt hollow. Like I'd been running on fumes since the moment this nightmare began.

I took a deep breath, staring up at the gates. "Alright, Lance. No time like the present," I muttered. My voice sounded foreign, even to me. Too hopeful. Too naïve. But what else was I supposed to feel?

The thought of seeing my friends again—of hearing another human voice, of stepping onto a world that wasn't crawling with monsters—was the only thing keeping me upright.

I approached the gates slowly, my pulse quickening with every step. When I was close enough to feel the strange warmth emanating from them, I reached out and placed my hand against the shimmering surface.

It didn't budge.

Not even an inch.

Frowning, I pushed harder, leaning into it with all my weight. Still nothing.

"Is there supposed to be... some kind of secret handshake or—?"

[Error 001]

[Unable to open gates due to lack of mana.]

The System's message blinked in front of me, clear as day.

My heart sank. "No. No, no, no. That's gotta be a mistake."

I shoved against the gate again, this time with everything I had. My muscles strained, my breath came in ragged bursts, but it wouldn't move.

[Error 001]

[Unable to open gates due to lack of mana.]

The words felt like a punch to the gut. My chest tightened, and my mind spiraled. Lack of mana?

My thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. Does this mean I'm stuck here? Forever? Alone? With no one but the Revenants for company?

The world around me seemed to close in, the silence suddenly suffocating. My hands trembled as I backed away from the gate.

"This... this can't be happening," I whispered, but the desperation in my voice betrayed me.

The memories of three days ago crashed over me. The blood. The screams. The endless waves of Revenants. If I couldn't leave this world, I'd have to face them again. And again. And again. Until there was nothing left of me but a chewed-up corpse.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing, but it was useless. My thoughts scattered like broken glass.

"Should I give up? Fate really has it in for me," I muttered bitterly. "Maybe I really should've let the Revenants finish me off."

The weight of the spear felt heavier than usual in my hands, its once-polished surface dulled by rust and blood. My reflection stared back at me in its blade—a face pale, gaunt, and hopeless. My eyes, sunken and red-rimmed, darted to the tip glistening faintly in the dull light.

It would be quick. That's what I told myself, anyway. A clean thrust to the throat—better than being torn apart limb by limb by Revenants. Those things didn't kill you to end your suffering; they killed you for the slow pleasure of it. Their jagged teeth, their grotesque claws, they weren't built for mercy.

I tightened my grip on the spear, my knuckles whitening. "This is it," I muttered, my voice cracking.

The air was still, unnervingly quiet, save for my ragged breathing. My legs wobbled as I positioned the spear's tip mere inches from my throat. It was cold, the sensation a cruel reminder of what came next. My hands trembled, but I held firm.

Or at least, I tried to.

I gulped down the lump in my throat and squeezed my eyes shut. The world faded for a moment, replaced by the sharp chill of the metal and the thunderous pounding of my heart.

"Just do it," I whispered.

I pushed forward.

And then… nothing.

My breathing was still there, erratic and heavy. The faint breeze against my skin, the slight sting of sweat dripping into old cuts—I was still alive. My eyes snapped open, and the spear hovered inches from my neck.

My hands shook uncontrollably. I couldn't move it any closer. I couldn't push.

"You've got to be kidding me." My voice was a rasp, thick with anger. I dropped the spear with a clatter and stumbled back, my legs giving out beneath me. I hit the ground hard, staring up at the empty, gray sky.

"Can't even kill myself properly. Perfect. Absolutely perfect." I laughed bitterly, though it sounded more like a choked sob.

My fingers dug into the cracked pavement beneath me as frustration boiled over. "Is this what I've been reduced to? Cowering at the gates of heaven, too weak to open them, and too pathetic to end it all?!"

The quiet swallowed my voice, leaving only the echo of my own despair.

I sat there for what felt like hours, the spear lying uselessly beside me. My chest ached—not from any physical wound, but from the sheer weight of my existence.

Why couldn't I do it? Was it fear? Was it some shred of hope still buried deep within me? Or was it just another cruel joke from the universe, keeping me alive to suffer a little longer?

The truth hit me harder than any Revenant ever could: I didn't want to die. Not really. That was the cruelest part. No matter how miserable, how broken, how utterly insignificant I felt, some part of me still clung to the hope of survival.

I reached for the spear again, my fingers brushing against the bloodied shaft. This weapon had been my lifeline, my only way to fight back against the monsters that had taken everything from me.

But now? It was just another reminder of how powerless I was.

[System Alert: Mental Instability Detected.]

The notification blinked into existence, its clinical tone cutting through the silence.

[Reminder: Runners must maintain their physical and mental state to traverse the Layers.]

I stared at the floating text, my jaw tightening. "Oh, thanks, System. That's super helpful. Got any other nuggets of wisdom? Maybe tell me how to get some damn mana so I can open those gates!"

The System, as usual, didn't respond. Just another cold, unfeeling presence in a world that had long since stopped caring.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. The hopelessness was still there, clawing at the edges of my mind. But for some reason, I couldn't let go.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was stubbornness. Or maybe I was just too much of a coward to follow through.

Either way, I wasn't dead yet.

And as long as I was still breathing, there was at least a chance—no matter how slim—that I could find a way out of this nightmare.