The first battle was over, a victory marred by exhaustion and an uneasy silence. Avi stood against the cold stone wall, his body trembling from the brutal fight. The air was heavy, thick with the metallic scent of blood and sweat. The healers moved with grim determination, their hands glowing as they wove spells of restoration, the soft hum of their magic a fragile thread against the backdrop of exhaustion. Despite the broken skin and bruises that painted their bodies, the others wore smiles—small, shaky ones that spoke of relief, of having survived the first wave. But not Avi. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The system usually spoke after a battle, its familiar voice announcing level-ups, healing, and rewards. The notifications were as predictable as sunrise, a reassurance that the fight had meaning, that progress was being made. But now, there was nothing. Silence.
Avi's brow furrowed as his gaze swept the room. His head pounded, a dull throb that underscored the tension in his gut. He spotted Emily, her figure small and pale in the dim light, eyes fixed on the healers as if searching for something he couldn't name. She didn't move, didn't speak. The flickering glow of their magic cast faint shadows across her face, a reflection of quiet determination. She had wanted to help, he knew that. He could see it in her eyes, the way they burned with a mixture of hope and helplessness. None of them could do much to console her, not now.
But a realization struck him with the weight of a boulder. No one had leveled up. Not a single one of them.
The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a creeping dread that made his chest tighten. No rewards. No progress.
He pushed himself off the wall, legs shaking beneath him as he scanned the scene outside. The production class was already at work, frantically patching the broken barricades, their efforts a frenzied dance of desperation. It was the calm before the storm, but he didn't need to be a seer to know what was coming. His gut twisted with certainty—something more was coming, something bigger, and faster than they were ready for.
A shout split the air, a warning that resonated deep in his bones. The next cry was louder, followed by the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps, a sound that made his heart drop like lead. He didn't hesitate. Adrenaline surged as he bolted outside, the chill of the air sharp against his face.
There they were. The imps, their grotesque forms scrambling for cover, their tiny bodies a chaotic mess of movement. And then, behind them, a presence so oppressive that it blotted out the light. A shadow fell over the ground as a new abomination lumbered into view.
The system didn't need to announce its level to make his blood run cold.
[Lvl 3 Demonoid]
It was unlike anything they had faced before. Its build was massive, an orc's frame clad in dark, ancient armor that glinted with a sinister edge. The blade it wielded was a brutal, jagged monstrosity that could cleave through bone and steel alike. Its skin was a deep, morbid red, cracked and blistered, and its eyes were hollow voids of black. The look in them was void of anything human, anything that could be reasoned with. It was a beast of nightmares, pure and simple.
"Get ready!" Caleb's voice cut through the confusion, barking orders to the production class. "We'll drop the debris on the lower ones, but the Demonoid... we need something stronger."
Avi felt the cold tightness of fear as he fell into formation with Tyler, Ryan, and Ken. The others flanked them, the strength of their resolve faltering under the weight of exhaustion. He could feel the tremor in his muscles, the dull ache that begged for rest, but there was no time for it now. Not with the creature bearing down on them, the earth itself seeming to shudder with every step it took.
"Stay close!" Ken's voice was steady but strained, his expression set in a grim line as he rallied the others. His presence was a pillar, strong and unwavering, but even he couldn't hide the flicker of worry in his eyes.
Avi took a shaky breath, his gaze darting around. The world was a blur of motion, a cacophony of shouts, the screech of metal on metal, and the shrill cry of battle. His hands were still trembling, the raw ache of fatigue gnawing at him. The energy that had surged through him in their previous fight felt like a distant dream. He knew he had to trust the instincts that had emerged in that blackout state. They would come when he needed them most, wouldn't they?
But the Demonoid drew closer, and the fear in the eyes of those around him was palpable. Some were shaking, their faces as pale as the moon, while others stood rigid, their bodies poised on the edge of collapse. The creature raised its sword, an arc of steel so wickedly sharp that it seemed to cut through the air itself.
[Player Died]
The scream that followed tore through him, sharp and agonizing. A healer fell, her body crumpling under the brutal swing, the sound of bone splintering followed by the wet spray of blood. Everything else blurred into noise, a single, horrific moment caught in the chokehold of his mind.
Ken's eyes narrowed, and his shield gleamed with a fierce, almost unnatural light. "We won't let it take anyone else!" he shouted, his voice cracking with pain as he charged forward. The ground shuddered under the impact as Ken's shield met the Demonoid's strike, a clash so powerful it sent shockwaves through the air.
But even Ken, with all his might, couldn't stop the monster's rampage. Each swing felt like an earthquake, the ground beneath them rattling as the beast roared. Ken's muscles strained, his teeth gritted with effort as he tried to hold his ground, his shield a beacon of defiance against a storm that would not be denied.
Ryan dove in, weaving through the chaos with the grace of a predator. His strikes, aimed with precision, found the creature's armor but did little to break through. The Demonoid's gaze, cold and calculating, swept across the battlefield, measuring each of them with an indifferent stare.
Avi's blood ran cold when he heard the sickening crack of Ken being struck, the shield flying from his hands as he was sent hurtling backward. The sight of Ken crumpling, his body battered and still, ignited a fire within Avi. It was raw, primal—a rage that burned so fiercely he could feel it in his bones.
He didn't hesitate. A strange, green light coursed through him, a tingling sensation that pushed away the exhaustion, lifting the weight that had threatened to drag him under. He felt stronger, his muscles awakening, ready for the fight.
Then, he saw Emily. She stood among the healers, her arms outstretched, her eyes locked on the chaos as a faint, emerald glow pulsed from her fingertips. Blood trickled from her nose, and her face was as pale as death, but she stood firm. The glow from her hands pulsed like a heartbeat, faint but steady, lending strength to those who needed it most. She was helping, even as her body begged her to stop.
The sight fueled Avi, a surge of renewed determination coursing through him. He couldn't wait any longer.
He lunged forward, daggers in hand, eyes locked on the Demonoid's exposed joints, the places where armor met flesh. He moved with a grace that felt second nature, striking where the creature was weakest, chipping away at its defenses with each blow. The clash of metal, the roar of the beast, and the shouts of his allies all blurred together as he danced through the battle, pushing his body beyond its limits.
Ken stirred, his hand finding the fallen shield. He heaved it with a final, desperate strength, and it connected with the Demonoid's head, stunning it just long enough for their attacks to land. Ryan's holy touch seared the creature's side; Tyler's fists pummeled its legs with relentless fury.
With a final strike, Avi's blade found its mark. The Demonoid crumpled, its immense body falling to the ground with a crash that shook the walls. The roar of victory, though bittersweet, rose among them.
[Congratulations on surviving the first wave!] [Rewards will be distributed after calculating contribution]
The system's voice reverberated in Avi's mind, but it felt hollow, almost cruel. The weight of what they had just endured sank in as the others collapsed, exhaustion claiming them as surely as the battle had.
Avi fell to the floor, laughter catching in his throat—a weak, almost defeated sound. He let out a groan, half-amused, half-dejected.
"I'm going to be called Sleeping Beauty after this," he muttered before darkness pulled him under once more.