The wind tugged at Daniel's school blazer as he stood on the rooftop, staring down at the bustling courtyard below. He liked it up here—away from the noise, the expectations, and the constant watchful eyes.
Despite being the son of one of the richest men in the country, Daniel preferred the solitude. People either wanted something from him or treated him like he was untouchable. And honestly, he didn't care to change their minds.
As the final bell rang, he sighed and began descending the stairwell, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls.
That's when he saw it—three boys surrounding Nicolas in the school's shadowy alley. Nicolas was smaller, scrawnier, and visibly terrified.
"Please, stop!" Nicolas begged, his voice cracking.
One of the boys shoved him, knocking him to the ground. "Why don't you fight back, huh? Always acting like you're so smart!"
Daniel froze at the top of the stairs, his hand gripping the railing. Nicolas spotted him, hope flickering in his tear-streaked eyes.
"Daniel! Help me!"
The bullies turned, their faces paling slightly at the sight of him. They knew who Daniel was—a kid from a world they could only dream of. But when Daniel's icy gaze met theirs, he simply turned and continued walking.
"Delusional," one of the boys muttered, kicking Nicolas again. "Thinking someone like Daniel would help a small fry like you."
---
The aftermath was chaotic. The fight had escalated, and the bullies claimed that Nicolas had retaliated violently. When the principal demanded witnesses, Daniel was called in.
Sitting stiffly in the office chair, Daniel avoided Nicolas's desperate gaze.
"Do you know Nicolas, Daniel?" the principal asked.
Daniel hesitated, then said flatly, "No, I don't. I've never even seen him before."
Nicolas's face fell, and Daniel avoided his pleading eyes.
That day, Nicolas was expelled.
---
When Daniel got home, the news had already reached his father.
"Getting involved in some street brawl?" his father bellowed, slamming his hand on the table. "You're supposed to care about your image, not waste time on riff-raff like that Nicolas boy!"
Daniel stood silently, his fists clenched.
"Enough!" his mother snapped, stepping between them. "He's just a boy! Stop being so harsh on him!"
The tension simmered, but Daniel felt the weight of his father's words. He'd learned to keep his head down—to protect himself, even at the cost of others.
---
Daniel snapped back to the present, his eyes meeting Naomi's. Her earlier question about his perks had created a tense silence between them.
Naomi sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me."
"It's fine," Daniel muttered.
Naomi sat beside him, leaning back against the wall. "You know, kids like me always resented the rich. We thought your lives were perfect, but they weren't, were they?"
Daniel didn't respond, his mind briefly flashing to his mother—the only person who had ever truly understood him.
Naomi broke the silence, smiling. "Hey, cheer up. It's not the time to dwell on stuff like that."
She stretched dramatically. "Did you see me back there? I was amazing!"
Daniel smirked faintly. "You did alright."
"Alright? I saved your life!"
Shaking his head, Daniel handed her one of his perks—a small healing vial. "Here, use this."
Naomi blinked in surprise, then accepted it. "Thanks." She hesitated, then added, "Guess I owe you one."
For the first time in a long while, Daniel felt a flicker of warmth—an unfamiliar sensation of camaraderie.
---
As the survivors gathered in the chamber, the admin's voice rang out, laced with mocking amusement.
"Congratulations to those who survived. You've proven your worth—for now. But tell me, how satisfied are you with the rewards?"
Murmurs spread through the room. Some players clutched their perks tightly, while others stood empty-handed, visibly frustrated.
The admin chuckled coldly. "I see some of you have nothing to show for yourselves. Losers who either avoided the action or contributed nothing to this trial. Such weakness has no place here."
Before anyone could react, several players dropped to the ground, lifeless. Gasps of horror filled the air as others backed away from the bodies.
"Now," the admin continued, unfazed, "with the dead weight gone, we have... let's see..." A number appeared on the screen above: "57 Players Remaining."
"It's only the second main trial, and we got from five thousand to fifty-seven"
The room fell silent as the survivors absorbed the brutal reality.
"You've earned a rest," the admin said. "But don't get too comfortable. This is only the beginning."
---
Without warning, the survivors were suddenly transported to a new environment—a massive expanse resembling a forest floor.
A glowing message appeared in the air:
"Trial 2: Battle of Survival. You will fight until one species remains victorious. Good luck. Your roles have been assigned. Work as a colony, or perish."
The players scrambled to read the details. Daniel stared at the screen in disbelief.
"Termites versus ants?" he muttered.
Naomi frowned, then paused as another message appeared:
"Naomi: Termite Queen."
Naomi's eyes widened. "Queen? Of termites?"
Daniel crossed his arms. "There's no way termites can beat ants."
Naomi shot him a look. "Thanks for the vote of confidence!! But we are humans in termite shells"
As they prepared for the battle ahead, the stats of each player were displayed. Daniel's strength and agility had increased slightly, but so had the tension in the air.
The trial was far from over.