The silence in the office was deafening.
Xander stood amidst the wreckage, his chest rising and falling with every laboured breath. His hands were slick with sweat, the rebar in his grip trembling slightly as his mind tried to piece together the disaster that had just unfolded. The walls, once cold and untouched, were now ravaged by deep, jagged claw marks, the brutal aftermath of the creature's violent rampage. The air still buzzed with a faint electric hum, mingling with the acrid scent of burnt paper and the lingering ash-like particles of the monster's remains.
His co-workers, the people he'd spent countless hours alongside, now lay in grotesque heaps. The horror of it was too much to grasp, too immediate. Xander's eyes scanned the remains of the office, the emptiness of it echoing louder than the battle had.
A soft chime broke the heavy stillness, jarring him back to the present. The Chronos-system interface flickered before him once again, its translucent blue screen hovering with an all-too-calm demeanour.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked Time Mastery Level 2. Energy regeneration increased and attributes have experienced a slight increase]
[Xander Knox]
Time : (50/1100)
Strength : 3
Constitution : 3
Intelligence : 7
Agility : 5
Innate abilities : Time stop , Time skip , Temporal shift , ???
Xander ignored the screen, his mind still reeling from the carnage. The world outside the office was in utter chaos—monsters prowling the streets, the cityscape forever warped. It felt as though humanity had stumbled into a new age, one ruled by terror and despair. And yet, here he was, being handed rewards like some sort of game, as if the lives of all these people amounted to nothing more than a twisted form of entertainment.
He glanced down at the rebar in his hand again; it felt heavier now. Xander winced. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he could no longer ignore the state his body was in. While the increase in attributes seemed to have lessened the severity of his injuries, he was still mortal—and still very much in pain. He let out a tired breath. Time stop's great for avoiding death, but it doesn't do much for the aftermath . Just as he was lamenting his own misfortune , a new set of options appeared on the screen.
Reward Options:
"You can't see me" : An item that renders you're level of existence slightly lower.
Slowburn charm: An item that slows down a nearby area.
Warp ring: An evasive item that uses time energy displace the user in space.
[All magic item effects vary based on attributes]
Xander's hand hovered over the screen, his mind whirling with the weight of the decision. The glowing options before him flickered, each one seemingly offering a potential path forward. But which one would give him the best chance?
His pulse hammered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to echo through the room. The clock was ticking down, a constant reminder that every moment wasted could come back to haunt him. Xander's breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, as if the air itself were too thick to breathe. His face was pale and clammy , every muscle in his body screaming for release, for action, for something to break the suffocating stillness. But the screen in front of him held him captive, the options blinking with an indifferent, almost mocking calmness. Each choice, each item, felt like a weight he could never lift. His finger hovered over the screen, trembling just slightly, as if it could sense the enormity of the decision. His mind spun wildly, chasing after every possible outcome. The reward screen, the terrifying reality outside—everything was a blur of conflicting emotions. Fear clawed at the edges of his thoughts, and behind it, a gnawing, familiar dread that twisted deep in his stomach. What if I make the wrong choice? The room around him seemed to close in, the shadows of his fallen co-workers lingering in the corners of his vision , memories of his earlier powerlessness taunting him. The silence was suffocating.
A horrid metallic scent filled the air , the lingering blood serving as a reminder of his own inadequacy. Xander could almost feel the souls of those who perished pressing down on him, and for a moment, the thought of moving seemed impossible. He wanted to run, forget everything that had just happened, but he knew the world would never be kind enough to grant him that peace now. His gaze darted to the wreckage again, his stomach churning as the broken bodies of his co-workers seemed to accuse him, their faces frozen in shock—mocking him with their last moments, as if blaming him for their fate.
They didn't get a choice, he thought bitterly. They didn't get a chance to pick the right move. But I do. But the more he thought about it, the more the choices blurred, each one equally uncertain. What's the right move? His breath caught as the question echoed in his mind, an endless loop of self-doubt that gnawed at him. He was no hero. Just a man trying to survive. Was it worth risking everything on one gamble? His chest tightened at the thought. His finger twitched again, hovering over the options. Each item felt like a trap—You Can't See Me, what did that even mean? Lowering his own existence, stepping into some blurred space where he might cease to exist at all? Or the Slowburn Charm, sure, it offered control over time, but it was limited—would it be enough to save him? Then there was the Warp Ring, a way to dodge danger, to escape—but what if he ran out of time energy? Each one felt like a gamble. I could die if I make the wrong move. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow, trickling down his temple. His hands tightened on the rebar, the cold metal an anchor that grounded him for a brief moment, though it did little to quell the storm in his chest. He had to pick. He had to choose.
No more thinking, no more second-guessing. Just pick one. But the truth settled in, heavy and undeniable: No matter what he picked, there were no guarantees. He could be making the wrong call, choosing something that might just lead to his death. But then, if he stayed paralyzed, if he continued to hesitate, he'd be choosing something even worse—the end. And that was the true fear, wasn't it? The fear of inaction. The fear of waiting until it was too late. The screen buzzed again, its soft hum cutting through the thick silence, louder now. Every second that passed was a reminder that the world was crumbling around him, that things were moving on, regardless of his indecision Before he could make a decision, a muffled voice broke through his thoughts.
"Xander...?" The voice came from behind him, faint but familiar. He turned to find Laura, one of the few remaining survivors from his office, standing at the far side of the room. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with shock , her visage was mixture of horror and disbelief. She was clutching her arm, blood staining the sleeve of her white shirt.
Xander's eyes darted around the room, noting that a handful of his coworkers were still alive, there injuries ranging from the some cuts and bruises like laura to partial amputation. They were huddled in the corner, like prey trying to hide from a beast , their fear and confusion now directed towards Xander due to his seemingly inhuman combat abilities.
"You okay?" Laura asked, her voice wavering as she limped toward him, her steps uneven.
Xander didn't answer immediately. He was still processing everything—still reeling from the surreal reality he found himself in. His mind flashed back to the creature, frozen in time before him, its massive body poised in the middle of its attack. It was gone now, nothing but ash in the wind, but the memory of its grotesque form and the terror it wrought would remain seared into Xander's mind, a nightmare he knew he would never forget.
"Not sure," Xander finally muttered, his voice sounding distant, even to his own ears. "This whole thing doesn't feel real."
"I know," Laura replied, her voice strained. "But... we need to move. We need to figure out what to do next."
He nodded slowly. "The building's not safe," he said, looking around at the shattered windows and the cracked walls. "We need to get out of here. But we also need to secure the building. There are people inside. We can't just leave them to... whatever those things are."
Laura flinched at the thought, and Xander could see the weight of her decision settle on her shoulders. The few of them who were left were all they had now—if they were going to survive, they needed to stick together. But Xander's mind was already running in a hundred different directions. He knew time was running out, both for him and for everyone else.
The blue screen flickered again.
[Mission Alert]
Secure the office building and assist any survivors inside.
Xander's brow furrowed as the new mission appeared in front of him. His energy reserves had mostly replenished , he estimated that the rate at which he gained energy roughly corresponded to 1 per second , but he still felt that the difficulty of this mission was absurd. Though Xander didn't know just how infested the building was , based on the density of creatures outside he wasn't optimistic. He had now put aside his item selection , instead opting to save the choice for when it was absolutely needed so that he could focus on the present.
"Okay," he said, taking a breath. Xander instructed the small group to head into the central area of the office, the only entrance was still blocked so he wasn't worried about rouge attacks but with almost a dozen people they couldn't afford to just hunker down.
"Anyone who is seriously injured should look for anything that can be used as a weapon in this area," Xander instructed, his voice calm but firm. "Let's do this. Stick close. If we're going to survive this, we need manpower , we will search for any groups of people still in the building then gather back here before making a move to escape."
Xander instructed, his voice calm but firm. "Don't you just mean cannon fodder?" Greg scoffed, crossing his arms. "What, are we supposed to just throw ourselves into the fire for a chance at survival?" Xander met his gaze, unflinching. "Sometimes, that's all we have," he replied, his voice steady but carrying a weight of truth. "We don't have the luxury of being picky. Every one of us has a part to play, whether we like it or not." Greg shot him a glare, his skepticism still hanging in the air. "Yeah, well, I'd prefer if my part didn't end with me as monster chow." Xander turned to face him, his expression unwavering. "If we stay here, we're sitting ducks. We don't have enough supplies to hold out, and we don't even know what's out there yet. Moving gives us options."
"Or gets us killed," Greg shot back, crossing his arms. A few others murmured in agreement, their eyes darting nervously between Xander and the blocked entrance.
"We've already agreed to move," Xander said, his tone steely now. "If anyone wants to stay behind, that's your choice. But we need to act, not wait for disaster to find us."
The silence lingered, tension palpable, until Clara took a step forward, her voice breaking the stalemate. "Xander's right," she said firmly, her gaze sweeping the group. "We can't stay here and hope everything works out. We have to take control of our fate."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, some nodding in agreement while others shifted uneasily. Greg, however, was unmoved.
"This is reckless!" Greg snapped, his voice rising. "We don't even know what's out there. At least here, we have some protection—"
"Protection from what?" Xander interjected sharply. "From the walls that are crumbling around us? From the supplies that are almost gone? Face it, Greg—this place is the disaster."
Greg scowled but said nothing, his arms crossed defiantly. A few others shuffled closer to him, their expressions torn.
With a resigned sigh, Xander turned away. "Fine. If you want to stay, stay. But we're clearing the entrance now. Those of you who are with me, grab what you can and help."
Slowly but surely, people began to move. The hesitant shuffle grew into purposeful strides as more of the group joined Xander and Clara. They worked methodically, prying away debris, reinforcing beams, and widening the path to freedom. The effort was grueling, the air thick with dust and frustration, but the collective determination was undeniable.
Greg stood to the side, grumbling to his small faction. "You're all making a mistake," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You'll regret this."
Clara briefly glared and Greg before continuing to clear the last of the wreckage.
Finally, with one last heave, the barrier gave way. The entrance was clear, revealing a sliver of open sky and the cool breath of the unknown. A moment of silence followed, heavy with realization.
Xander turned to face the group, his expression a mixture of resolve and exhaustion. "This is it," he said. "We'll begin searching for other survivors immediately, anyone staying behind should continue arming themselves while we're gone"
Greg muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further. As the group began to disperse, preparing for the next step, the tension eased slightly, replaced by a cautious sense of hope.
The path was open, the choice made. Now, there was no turning back.