The ground shook violently beneath their feet, cracks splitting the stone floor as dust and debris rained from above. Luka stumbled, gripping his warhammer to keep steady. The torches flickered wildly, casting shadows that danced across the room.
"Shit, what now?" Serra hissed, her dagger at the ready.
Chunks of the ceiling began to fall, crashing to the ground with deafening booms. The walls groaned, threatening to collapse entirely. Panic spread like wildfire through the group.
"We need to get out of here!" the young man in shiny armor shouted, his voice high with fear.
"No exits," the archer snapped, her eyes darting around. "We're trapped!"
Luka's mind raced. Something wasn't adding up. They had killed every goblin, including the oversized king. The battle should've been over, the level cleared. Yet the notification hadn't come.
And then he remembered it.
[Only The Strongest May Continue.]
His breath caught. The words echoed in his mind like a cruel whisper. His heart pounded as realization dawned. This wasn't just about teamwork or survival against the goblins. It was also about them.
It was about who was willing to do whatever it took to survive.
His fingers tightened around the handle of his warhammer.
He glanced at the others. Serra and her partner stood side by side, their weapons drawn as if expecting another wave of goblins. The bald man with the mace looked calm, too calm, his eyes scanning for threats. The young girl clung to her oversized sword, trembling.
And then there was the boy in the pristine armor, still clutching his sword awkwardly, like it was a toy.
Luka's jaw clenched. He felt a pang of guilt as he stepped toward the boy but he pulled it down.
"Hey," Luka said, forcing his voice to stay steady.
The boy turned to him. "Have you gotten an idea? What do we do?"
"This."
Luka didn't hesitate. He swung the warhammer with all his strength, the blunt edge slamming into the side of the boy's head. There was a sickening crunch as his skull caved in, blood and brain matter spraying across the stone floor.
The boy crumpled instantly, his sword clattering uselessly to the ground.
The room fell silent.
Luka barely had time to register the gasps of horror around him before the notification appeared.
[1/8 Eliminated.]
"What the fuck did you just do?" the bald man roared, stepping toward Luka, his mace raised.
Luka held up his warhammer, his stance defensive.
"I get it," Serra said, her voice echoing over the crumbling room. "The notification did say, Only the Strongest May continue." She added, as she stared at the notification on her screen.
[1/8 Eliminated.]
The archer's face paled as she stared at the glowing words. "No... no, this can't be right. There has to be another way!"
"There's no other way," Serra partner said, his voice cold. "We have to kill each other. That's the level. That's the fucking game."
The young girl whimpered, backing away toward the wall. "No, no, no! I don't want to die!"
"None of us do," Serra muttered, gripping her dagger tighter. Her eyes flicked to her partner, then to the others.
"Drop down your hammer," The archer insisted softly as she walked towards Luka. "We can figure this out without bloodshed."
Luka didn't respond. Instead, he swung again, this time at the archer. She barely managed to dodge, the hammer grazing her arm and sending her spinning to the ground.
Chaos erupted.
The bald man roared and charged at Luka, his mace swinging wildly. Luka ducked, the spiked weapon narrowly missing his head. He countered with an upward swing, catching the bald man in the ribs. There was a sickening crack, and the man staggered back, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Bastard!" he spat, lunging again.
Behind them, the tattooed woman grabbed the young girl, her hands like iron clamps around the child's throat. "Sorry, kid," she growled, snapping the girl's neck with one brutal twist.
[2/8 Eliminated.]
The notification flashed, but no one had time to react. Serra's partner, lunged at the tattooed woman, his axe slicing through her shoulder. She screamed, punching him square in the face even as blood gushed from her wound.
Luka was too busy with the bald man to spare them a glance. The two clashed again and again, their weapons colliding with bone-shaking force. Luka's arms ached, his body screaming for rest, but he didn't dare stop.
A mace swing came too close, grazing Luka's side and slicing his flesh. Pain shot through him, but he ignored it, slamming his warhammer into the bald man's knee.
The man screamed as his leg buckled, and Luka didn't hesitate. He brought the hammer down on the man's head, crushing it like a melon.
[3/8 Eliminated.]
The room was chaos. Blood pooled on the floor, mingling with the broken bodies of the fallen.
Serra and her partner fought side by side, cutting down the tattooed woman. She went down screaming, her fists still swinging even as her throat was slit.
[4/8 Eliminated.]
The archer, injured but alive, took the opportunity to shoot Serra's partner in the back. He let out a choked gasp, dropping to his knees as blood poured from the wound.
Serra spun on the archer with a feral snarl, decapitating her in one clean strike.
[5/8 Eliminated.]
[6/8 Eliminated.]
Now it was just Luka and Serra.
The room seemed to shrink around them as Luka and Serra locked eyes, their ragged breaths filling the blood-soaked air. The corpses of their former comrades lay in pools of red, but there was no time to mourn. No space for hesitation. It was just the two of them now.
Luka tightened his grip on the warhammer, his knuckles white. Across from him, Serra crouched low, her dagger glinting wickedly in the flickering torchlight.
"Guess it's you and me," she said, her lips curling into a humorless smile.
Luka didn't respond.
He wiped blood from his face, his warhammer heavy in his hands as he glared at her.
She moved first.