The dim glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the cluttered room. Piles of fantasy and action manga lay scattered on the floor, evidence of countless late-night reading sessions. Pulkit slouched in his chair, his eyes glued to the vibrant panels of his latest manga obsession.
"If only I were born in a magical world of swords and monsters," he muttered, flipping a page. "Life would be so much more… thrilling." He sighed, glancing around his modest one-story house. The plain walls and quiet hum of the ceiling fan offered little to inspire his imagination.
Just as he reached for another volume, a low rumble interrupted his thoughts. At first, Pulkit dismissed it as a passing truck. But when the tremor intensified, shaking the very foundation of his home, he froze. Books tumbled from the shelves, the lamp flickered, and the floor beneath him seemed alive.
"An earthquake?" he whispered, heart pounding.
Instinct kicked in. He dived under his sturdy desk, gripping its wooden legs as the world around him convulsed. The tremors subsided, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. Pulkit stayed crouched, his breaths shallow, listening. Then came the sounds—distant explosions, the wails of people, and a guttural growl that chilled him to the bone.
Fear gripped him. Slowly, he crawled out from under the desk and grabbed the nearest thing he could use as a weapon: an old cricket bat leaning against the wall. His hands trembled as he tightened his grip.
"What's happening out there?" he murmured, inching toward the front door. Every step felt heavy, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
He opened the door cautiously, peering out into the chaos. The street, once familiar and mundane, was now a scene from a nightmare. Fires raged in the distance, casting a sinister glow over the neighborhood. Buildings lay in ruins, their broken frames silhouetted against the flickering flames.
Then he saw them.
Three grotesque creatures crouched over a lifeless body in the middle of the road. Their forms were canine but twisted, with matted black fur, glowing red eyes, and jaws lined with jagged teeth. Demonic dogs. Pulkit's breath hitched as bile rose in his throat. He wanted to look away but couldn't tear his eyes from the gruesome sight.
One of the dogs lifted its head, its glowing eyes locking onto him. A low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat. Pulkit's blood ran cold. The creature's muscles tensed, and in the blink of an eye, it charged toward him.
"Oh no. No, no, no!" Pulkit panicked, slamming the door shut just as the beast reached it. The impact rattled the doorframe, the wood splintering under the force of the creature's assault. Pulkit stumbled back, his chest heaving.
"Think, Pulkit. Think!" he muttered, scanning the room for another option. The relentless pounding of the dogs against the door made it clear he didn't have much time.
He bolted for a small storage room at the back of the house. Once inside, he locked the door and searched for a hiding spot. His eyes fell on an old wooden storage box. Without hesitation, he climbed in, pulling the lid shut just as he heard the front door give way.
The sound of splintering wood and guttural growls filled the air. Pulkit held his breath, curling into a tight ball inside the box. The dogs' claws scraped against the floor, their sniffs growing louder as they neared his hiding place. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the terror threatening to overwhelm him.
Hours passed. The growls faded, replaced by an ominous silence. Pulkit didn't dare move. He stayed curled up in the box, his body aching from the cramped position. Time seemed to blur as exhaustion set in, but he refused to leave his hiding spot. He counted the seconds, each one feeling like an eternity.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a glowing screen materialized in front of him, its ethereal light illuminating the cramped interior of the box. Pulkit stared, wide-eyed, at the words written on it:
[World Announcement] Congratulations! You have passed the first trial. Survive for 24 hours. You have now become an official player.
The screen blinked out as quickly as it had appeared. Pulkit's mind raced. "Trial? Players? What does this even mean?"
But one thing was clear: he had survived the first day. For now.