Erwin stumbled as the pull of the portal released him, leaving him on unsteady feet. He blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the faint, sterile glow of the chamber around him. The room was massive, almost overwhelming, and exuded an air of eerie calm.
The floor beneath him was smooth and dark, polished like black glass. Dim lights on the high ceiling flickered faintly, casting cool, artificial beams across the space. The chamber wasn't empty.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of people moved within the hall. They weren't frantic or confused. Their movements were calculated, their presence purposeful. Each individual radiated a calm composure that immediately set Erwin on edge. These weren't beginners fumbling to survive. They were veterans, hardened by whatever hells this world had thrown at them.
But to Erwin, the strangest thing wasn't their confidence—it was the fact that no one noticed him.
He wasn't being avoided, nor was he the subject of curious glances. It was as if he simply didn't exist. He was just another figure stepping into the room, indistinguishable and unimportant.
His eyes scanned the crowd. In one corner, several individuals sat on translucent, floating chairs. They swiped through glowing, holographic screens, their faces focused and intent. He guessed they were inspecting some kind of inventory or arsenal.
Others leaned against the walls or sat on the floor, speaking in hushed tones or simply closing their eyes in silence. A group near the center of the room appeared meditative, sitting with their legs crossed and their expressions calm.
Erwin took a cautious step forward, his boots clicking faintly against the floor. The hum of the room surrounded him, subtle and constant, as if the air itself was alive.
"Welcome to the lobby," the Overseer's voice rang in his mind, cold and emotionless. "This is where participants await mission dissemination. Compose yourself, anomaly. Your trial has only just begun."
Erwin's jaw tightened. Only just begun? The labyrinth, the illusions, the endless mind games—all of it had just been the prelude. But he pushed the frustration down. Complaining wouldn't change anything. Instead, he focused on the room, trying to gather what little information he could.
Unlike the others, Erwin had no system to guide him. He was painfully aware of that fact. What he did have was access to the System Initiative—a fragment of the full system, offering him only bare-minimum insights. It gave him just enough to know something was happening but withheld the details he needed to act effectively.
It was maddening.
He pushed the thought aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on what he lacked. His priority was survival, and to survive, he needed to understand this place.
Erwin moved closer to the edge of the room, careful not to draw attention to himself. He observed the other players with growing unease. Some were heavily armored, their gear intricate and almost alien in design. Others carried weapons—swords that glowed faintly, daggers that shimmered like mirages, or firearms far more advanced than anything he'd ever seen.
Yet, not everyone seemed reliant on tools. A handful of individuals stood unarmed, their postures relaxed but confident. They exuded an air of quiet power, as if they didn't need weapons to defend themselves.
The quiet focus of the lobby unnerved Erwin. There was no panic, no fear. Everyone here knew exactly what they were doing—or at least acted like it.
Then it happened.
A soft chime rang out, cutting through the low hum of the room. Erwin's head snapped up as a holographic screen appeared in the center of the lobby.
The players turned their attention to it immediately, their movements smooth and synchronized. Erwin hesitated before following their gazes, unsure of what to expect.
The screen displayed rows of shifting symbols and numbers. They moved too quickly for Erwin to decipher, but the other players didn't seem fazed. They watched the screen with quiet anticipation.
A faint buzz echoed in Erwin's mind as the System Initiative activated. Its mechanical, detached voice spoke to him.
"Mission dissemination underway. Prepare for the assignment."
Erwin frowned, his irritation growing. The Initiative gave him nothing useful. No mission details, no explanations—just vague acknowledgments that something was happening.
The screen stabilized, and the atmosphere in the room changed. Large gates on the far side of the lobby began to slide open, revealing a dark, cavernous space beyond.
The players moved immediately, their actions deliberate and precise. Groups formed naturally, individuals gravitating toward one another without hesitation. The air was filled with a quiet intensity as they approached the gates.
Erwin remained where he was, watching the scene unfold. Unlike the others, he had no allies, no team to fall back on. The weight of his isolation pressed heavily on him.
Still, he couldn't afford to stand still. Whatever lay beyond those gates, he had no choice but to face it.
His grip tightened on the daggers at his sides. They were his only tools, and while they offered little comfort, they were better than nothing.
As he moved toward the gates, he caught snippets of conversation from a nearby group.
"...low-level mission. Shouldn't be too bad."
"Depends on the modifiers. We've been caught off guard before."
"Stick to the plan. We'll adjust if needed."
Their voices faded as they disappeared into the darkness beyond the gates.
Erwin swallowed hard. He didn't have a plan. He didn't even know what the mission was.
The gates loomed before him, massive and foreboding. The hum of the lobby grew fainter as he stepped through, the cold air of the unknown washing over him.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the gates began to close behind him. The sound was final, a reminder that there was no turning back.
Erwin took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. He didn't know what awaited him, but one thing was certain—he couldn't afford to hesitate.
"Let's get this over with," he muttered under his breath, stepping into the darkness. The gate close behind them as the went inside.
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