Max sat alone on the cold stone, the rough surface pressing against his palms as he leaned back. The resting place—if you could even call it that—was just a long stretch of jagged stone, shaped like some kind of a staircase, leading nowhere in particular. The sky above was a dull gray, like it hadn't decided whether to rain or suffocate them with its heaviness.
'Four days,' he thought, staring at the horizon. It had been four days since they arrived at this strange place called Elender Keep. And three days since the so-called training program started.
Strangely, their group—the students—had been separated from the others.
Harry, in his usual smug tone, said it was some kind of special treatment. Max didn't know whether to believe that or not. Harry always had something to say, and it wasn't always clear if he even believed himself.
But it was true—they hadn't seen much of the other people since that first day.
Max only knew bits and pieces from the rumors Harry's friend, that strange Caroline girl, brought in. According to her, there were three people among the rest of the people who awakened with powerful fragments.
She didn't mention anyone having 'trash' fragments like his or Harry's. Though she did say it nicely—Harry later translated that for him later with his usual sarcasm.
Max frowned, resting his chin on his hands.
'Fragments…' Even after all this time, the word felt foreign. It was like everyone else had these puzzle pieces of themselves falling into place, while his just… didn't fit.
And then there was 'her'.
Caroline had been visiting them every day—always full of jokes when Harry was around. But when it was just the two of them, her tone changed. She'd ask him strange questions, ones that tugged at something in the back of his mind.
"Why are you hesitating?"
"Are you still upset with her?"
"Should I arrange a secret meeting?"
And so on.
Max clenched his jaw.
Her?
Who was she even talking about?
He didn't remember anyone. No faces, no names—just blank spaces where people should've been. But Caroline knew something. She acted like he had this… relationship with someone. And the more she asked, the more restless he felt. Like there was something important he'd lost, just out of reach.
He could've told her the truth—that he'd lost his memories. But Harry had warned him against it.
"Nobody shouldn't know about it," Harry had said, his voice unusually serious.
"We pretend to be sheep. But we're secretly tigers in sheep's clothing."
And other strange lines he didn't quite understand yet.
Sheep and tigers.
Max didn't fully understand Harry's metaphors, but… he trusted him. Harry was the only one who knew the rules of this strange game they'd been thrown into. The only one who seemed to have even a sliver of control. Max had decided to follow his lead, at least for now.
Besides, the past three days have been difficult. But he'd learned more than he ever thought possible.
The locals—those friendly looking people—taught them the basics of survival in this End Apocalypse thing.
And their first lesson?
Run.
Not just for a few hours, not even for a day. They'd been forced to run for two full days straight.
With no breaks, no mercy.
At first, Max had thought it was just mindless torture. But there was a method to it. They weren't just running to escape—they were learning how to run. Efficiently. With purpose. How to read the terrain, how to conserve stamina, when to sprint and when to slow down.
And then Harry took it a step further.
Of course he did.
His training methods were… strange. Foolish, even.
He'd make them zigzag through impossible paths he built or discovered, climb unstable walls, and even run backward at times. But slowly—painfully—Max started to see the pattern. Harry's madness wasn't just chaos. There was a method hidden underneath, and it worked.
Max could feel it in his body. His muscles were sore, his lungs burned, but he could run longer and faster than he ever had before. And not just that—he was thinking differently.
Watching.
Observing.
Learning.
All the while running.
Harry was right. Even the smallest things could be useful.
"Haa..."
Max exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the chilly air. His gaze drifted to the training grounds in the front, where some of the other students were still running laps. He spotted Harry, easily recognizable with his casual, almost lazy stride. But Max knew better now.
Harry's nonchalance was just another mask.
He was probably testing something as usual.
He could tell since he was staring at the air and grinning like usual.
He leaned back against the stone, letting his mind wander.
'Five days…' And yet, it felt like he'd been here for much longer. The world before this—before the trials, before the Awakening—felt like a distant dream.
Or maybe it was a dream.
He didn't know anymore.
All he knew was that the real trial hadn't even started yet.
And when it did… he needed to be ready.
Max let out a slow breath, his fingers idly tracing the cracks in the stone beneath him. The sharp edge of the chill still clung to the air, but it didn't bother him as much as it had the first day.
"Show Status."
The words slipped from his lips, a quiet murmur swallowed by the emptiness around him.
A faint shimmer appeared before his eyes, then, the familiar translucent screen flickered into view. The same as always. The same as yesterday. The same as the day before that.
Max frowned, his eyes scanning the unchanged numbers—or rather, words. That strange, mocking [Max] that hovered next to every attribute. No increase, no decrease. Just… static.
It was unnatural.
He'd run until his legs felt like jelly, pushed his body to the brink, and yet—nothing.
Harry had a theory about it, of course.
"It's probably a limit," Harry had said with a shrug the other day, waving his hand like it was no big deal. "Could be the current trial restricting us. Or maybe it's the max humans can reach for now."
Max had pressed him for more details, but Harry only grinned, his eyes gleaming with that frustrating mix of mischief and knowledge.
"We'll break it somehow," he'd added. "Near-death experiences, drinking some rare magic potions... you know, the usual cliché stuff."
Max wasn't sure how he felt about near-death experiences being the go-to solution, but he had to admit—there was something thrilling about the idea of breaking past these invisible barriers.
Limits were meant to be broken, after all.
He closed the status window with a thought, letting it dissolve into nothingness.
His mind drifted to what Caroline had mentioned last night. She'd shown up again, as she often did, leaning against the doorway with that mischievous glint in her eye.
"Instructors will start teaching about essence after the first week," she'd said casually, like it wasn't a big deal. But Max had seen the flicker of excitement she tried to hide.
Harry had been quick to chime in with his own theory after she left.
"Essence, huh? Might be the key to breaking these limits," he'd mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's just another type of training. Either way, I'm thrilled."
Max found himself smiling at the memory. The idea of getting stronger—of finally understanding this world and his place in it—it was… a good feeling. Something about it filled the empty spaces in his mind, made the amnesia sting a little less.
For now, he'd keep training. Keep learning.
Control your strength like a real protagonist, Harry had joked at the start.
Max didn't fully get what he meant, but maybe… just maybe, he was starting to understand.
He stood up, brushing the dust off his pants, and glanced toward the training grounds. The others were still at it, their figures moving like shadows against the dim light. Harry was there, and of course, a stark contrast to everyone else's exhaustion.
'Time to get back to training.'