"Do you understand now?"
Max's eyes widened, his mind struggling to process Harry's blunt explanation about fiancées and marriage.
His face turned a shade paler as he muttered under his breath, "That… sounds terrifying."
Harry chuckled at Max's reaction, his laughter low and amused, but his eyes held a glint of something darker—something real.
"Oh, it is terrifying," Harry said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Tying your life to someone else, promising to protect them, care for them, no matter what happens… It's not just about love—it's responsibility. And if you screw up…" He let the words hang in the air, his smile sharp, "it's not just your heart that breaks."
Max stared, his thoughts swirling. The weight behind Harry's casual tone unsettled him. But before he could respond, Harry suddenly swung his legs off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud.
Without missing a beat, he dropped into a push-up position and began his reps.
Max blinked, the shift in mood catching him off guard. He shook his head, trying to chase away the lingering heaviness in his chest, and turned to Harry.
"Eh… What are you doing?" Max asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Harry didn't stop, his body moving in steady rhythm. "Me? I'm training, can't you see?"
Max frowned, glancing toward the window where the faint glow of the moon painted soft shadows across the room. "Training? But… didn't we train all day?"
Harry's push-ups didn't falter. "Yeah, we did. But that's not enough—at least, not for me." His tone was light, but there was a hint of determination beneath the words. "Besides, there is still time before the objective ends, right?"
Max tilted his head. "What do you exactly mean?"
Harry paused just long enough to look up at Max, sweat glistening on his brow, but his grin remained intact. "Well, I've got a hunch. If you push your attributes to their max before breaking your limit, you'll get a bigger power-up, or your potential increases even more. It's like that in most stories, right?" He shrugged. "But you don't have to worry. Your attributes are already Max."
Max groaned at the pun, but nodded thoughtfully, storing the information in the back of his mind.
Harry rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up. "Besides, we've got to use our time efficiently. You never know what's coming next. We got teleported here out of nowhere, remember? And who knows what The End is cooking for us next."
Max's brows furrowed, thankfully he knew the other meaning of the cooking.
"But… everyone else seems to have forgotten about our situation. They're just going through the motions, like this is all some kind of play." Harry continued. "Maybe they haven't seen what we've seen… or maybe they're just idiots."
The room fell into a brief silence.
Then Max spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "...That's not all, is it?"
Harry froze, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected that. He looked over at Max, who met his gaze with a surprising intensity.
For a moment, Harry considered brushing it off with a joke. But the words wouldn't come.
"…Yeah," he finally admitted, his voice soft, almost a whisper. "That's not all."
Memories flooded back—memories he tried hard to bury.
The screams, the chaos, the blood. People dying right in front of him, their desperate cries for help echoing in his mind. Bodies torn apart, devoured by monsters before they could even react.
And him?
He ran.
He ran because he was weak. Because he couldn't do anything else. And if it hadn't been for sheer luck, he would've ended up like them.
That helplessness haunted him. It gnawed at the edges of his mind, a constant reminder that the only way to survive now… was to get stronger.
Harry took a deep breath, forcing the memories back into the recesses of his mind. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Max beside him, doing squats.
Harry blinked, caught off guard. "What are you doing? Weren't you tired?"
Max didn't stop, his expression calm but with a hint of defiance in his eyes. "Hmm? I'm training, can't you see?" he echoed Harry's earlier words, a subtle, teasing smile playing on his lips.
Harry stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, laughing softly. "You…" he muttered, his grin widening. "You're growing up. I'm proud."
Max frowned at that, unsure if it was a compliment or some kind of jab, but he kept going, determined not to let Harry's words distract him.
Harry chuckled again, pushing himself up to his feet. "Alright, alright. If you're serious about this, let me teach you properly." His grin turned mischievous. "Welcome to Harry's crash course on real training."
Max rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at his lips. "Bring it on."
And so, under the dim light of the moon, the two trained—not just to strengthen their bodies, but to prepare for the unknown challenges ahead.
Because, strength wasn't just a tool.
It was a key to their survival.
﹌﹌﹌
Two hours had slipped by, unnoticed in the haze of exertion. The room was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint tang of fatigue. Max and Harry leaned against their respective beds, chests rising and falling in heavy rhythm, their shirts clinging to their skin like a second layer.
Their muscles screamed in protest, every fiber aching from the relentless push, but neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—it was the kind that only came after shared effort, a mutual acknowledgment of the work put in.
Max wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his breathing finally starting to slow. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye.
"That… was brutal," he muttered, his voice hoarse from both exhaustion and the dry air in the room.
Harry, a lazy grin plastered on his face despite the sweat trickling down his temple, chuckled weakly. "Brutal? That was just the warm-up, Max. Wait until next time."
Max groaned, dropping his head back against the bed frame with a soft thud. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Harry replied, his grin never fading, "but insanity keeps us alive."
They sat there, letting the weight of exhaustion settle over them like a heavy blanket. The room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards and their labored breathing.
Then, without warning, a familiar, disembodied voice echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade.
[Stage 0: Elender Keep Trial has come to an end.]
Max felt a shiver run down his spine. The mechanical yet eerily human tone of The End was something he would never get used to.
Harry's grin faded, his eyes sharpening as he straightened up slightly, his muscles tense despite the exhaustion.
[Objective: 'Observe – Learn – Prepare' has been completed.]
Max exchanged a glance with Harry, both of them holding their breath.
The words felt heavier now, as if The End wasn't just stating facts—it was watching, judging.
Then came the part they'd been dreading.
[Performances are being calculated…]
A heavy silence fell over the room again, but this time it wasn't from fatigue. It was anticipation. The kind that made your skin prickle and your heart beat just a little too fast.
Max swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "What do you think that means?"
Harry's eyes stayed fixed on the empty air where the voice had come from, his jaw tightening. "It means we're about to find out if all this training was enough."
"Or if our actions aligned with the objective."
"...I see."