The night was thick and oppressive, the kind of darkness that felt like it pressed in from all sides. Far ahead, a faint shimmer flickered through the gloom, torchlight swaying gently as a small group moved with purpose, cutting a path through the shadows.

Luke and Allison exchanged a glance. They had made it to a city.

But it wasn't alive.

The buildings were broken shells of what they once were. Homes collapsed in on themselves, streets buried under layers of debris, alleyways swallowed by shadow. There was no movement, no sound, no sign of life. This wasn't Earth. Not the Earth they knew. It was something older. Something left behind. A medieval ruin, long abandoned and steeped in the silence of a war no one remembered.

Then, without warning, an arrow sliced through the air and disappeared into a nearby alley. A sharp crack echoed through the empty streets.

Luke turned just in time to catch a glimpse of the impact. A monstrous creature writhed on the ground, its body a twisted blend of insect and something far more grotesque. Its limbs spasmed violently, then fell still.

A moment later, the church bells began to toll.

Dong. Dong. Louder. Faster.

The torch-bearing group stirred.

"It's midnight!" someone shouted. "No more time, we have to move!"

More arrows flew through the air. One of the archers, a woman wrapped in a black cloak, bow nearly as tall as she was, stepped forward. She drew a single arrow and loosed it. Mid-flight, it split into six.

Another sharp impact followed. The beast dropped on the spot.

"Are you two just going to stand there and die?" she snapped, shooting a glance toward Luke and Allison.

Without waiting for an answer, she surged forward with practiced ease, her movements precise and sharp. The longbow in her hands moved effortlessly with her, as if weightless despite its size.

"I get it," she said, closing the distance in a few swift strides. "You've been through hell down there."

"That place was a damn tomb," another voice muttered behind her.

She didn't argue.

"But up here?" Her tone dropped, firm and steady. "It's worse."

She pointed toward the skyline, where the dark outline of ruined buildings met the sky.

"Every night, when the bells ring, they're not just marking time.They're warnings. Monsters begin to move. Sentinels. Kill on sight."

She locked eyes with Luke.

"You've got two options. Come with us, we're heading toward the other survivors. Or stay here and take your chances."

She didn't wait to see what they chose. She turned and ran.

Luke and Allison had plenty of questions, but it was clear from the way the survivors moved that they weren't going to stick around to answer them. And right now, more than anything, the two of them needed information. They didn't have a choice—they followed.

The group moved like they'd done this a hundred times. Over debris. Down broken ledges. Climbing where they had to, ducking low where they didn't. Nothing wasted. Every movement calculated.

Ahead, one of them fired a grappling arrow across a crumbling rooftop. The rope snapped tight, pulling him upward with practiced speed.

"Anna! They're on the move!" he shouted from above.

"We've got it handled," she called back.

She nocked another arrow, this one with a sleek, metallic tip, and fired it into a nearby alley. A high-pitched ringing burst from the point of impact.

Luke stiffened.

A sonic lure.

It would drag everything nearby away from them. And fast.

"MOVE!" Anna shouted.

They dropped to the street below, landing in low rolls, never breaking pace.

Luke hit the ground running. Allison followed close behind.

They moved like professionals. Efficient. Synchronized. Battle-worn.

The group slowed near a rooftop edge. One of them raised a hand, silent signal.

Everyone crouched.

Luke felt a wave of relief at the sight of other people. But instincts kept him on edge. This wasn't the time to feel safe.

One of the survivors held a strange lantern. He pressed a hand to its surface, and the glow faded to a faint, pulsing light.

"When midnight hits," Anna whispered beside him, "they start to hunt."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "Who's 'they'?"

"You'll see."

The city held its breath.

Then it came.

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Clang. Clang. Clang.

Heavy metal footsteps echoed down the street, each step deep, deliberate, and loud enough to shake the stone beneath their feet. The ground trembled.

Then Luke saw it.

Emerging from the smoke and dust, a knight stepped into view.

No. Not just a knight.

A towering figure clad in solid armor, nearly three meters tall. Its spear was as thick as a tree trunk, gripped in one massive hand. The plating it wore was black as pitch, its weight pressing into the air with every step. A low hum followed it, pressure like gravity distorted by its presence.

Luke swallowed and activated Identify.

[???]

No level. No name. No data at all. He tried again. Still blank. Only one thing could cause that. So it was strong enough to block analysis. And probably smart enough to know it.

Beside him, Anna whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. "It's a Midnight Warden. They always come out around now."

Luke felt a chill settle under his skin.

Midnight Warden?

That was the name of the tutorial.

Midnight Terror.

He watched as the Warden's massive boots pounded the cobblestone, the impact echoing like a drumbeat of judgment fading into the dark. Every step made the air feel heavier, the tension unbearable. His instincts screamed at him—don't move, don't even blink. If that thing noticed them, if it struck even once, he'd be gone before he could react.

The giant turned a corner and vanished into the shadows. No one dared to breathe. Muscles stayed locked. Sweat clung to skin, cold as the night around them. Only when the silence truly returned did the group exhale.

"Seriously," someone hissed, barely above a whisper. "If we linger, another one might show."

Anna turned toward Luke and Allison. "You dropped into the worst possible place. This is a Wild Zone."

Luke frowned, the term repeating in his mind.

Wild Zone.

Anna didn't slow down. "We're lucky, though. The Safe Zone isn't far. But we need to move."

There were no objections. The group moved as one, slipping through alleyways and across rubble-strewn paths like trained ghosts. Every movement was intentional, their pace steady and silent. The lantern in their lead cast only a faint glow, just enough to see where to step, nothing more. Whenever it grew too bright, the bearer shielded it with a hand. They couldn't afford to be seen. Or heard.

Somewhere in the middle of the group, a voice broke the silence. "You're from the new wave. From the portal, right?" It wasn't loud, but it carried weight.

Luke glanced over, eyes narrowing. New wave?

Allison blinked. "Wait… you didn't just arrive in this tutorial?"

The survivors exchanged glances. One of them shook his head. "No. We've been here for a while."

Luke's stomach turned.

Anna looked over her shoulder, her tone low. "And by now, you've figured it out. This tutorial doesn't have a time limit."

The words sank deep, colder than the night air. How long have these people been trapped? Days? Weeks? Months?

He opened his mouth to ask, but the group leader raised a hand.

Silence.

Then the sound returned. Clang. Clang. Heavy footsteps echoed through the ruins again, closer this time. Everyone slipped back into the shadows, breath tight in their lungs. The footsteps passed by, slow and deliberate, until they faded once more into the distance.

"Move."

They accelerated without a word.

"We're almost at Robert's hideout," she added as they slipped into what remained of a crumbling building.

Mold crept up the walls, torn pages littered the floor, and half the ceiling was gone. They ascended a flight of stairs half-devoured by rot and crossed a wooden plank bridging two rooftops.

Then Anna came to a halt. Her gaze locked on a tree ahead, marked with a large white X. "Careful here."

The lantern flickered once, casting just enough light to reveal faint markings etched into the path ahead. Then darkness swallowed them again.

They advanced low and quiet. Growls echoed in the distance, wet, guttural, and too numerous to count. Up ahead, one of the archers stopped and raised a hand. The group dropped behind twisted metal and broken stone.

Luke peeked through a gap, and his heart skipped.

A pack of creatures sprinted past. Fast. Coordinated. Their claws scraped across the stone with terrifying clarity. Their eyes gleamed like polished glass, full of intent.

Recognition hit. Velociraptors?

His pulse spiked. Dinosaurs? Here?

He held his breath and pressed deeper into the rubble, every muscle tense, unwilling to move an inch.

The creatures rushed past, fast, silent, and utterly focused on something deeper in the forest. Not a single one looked in their direction. Only when the last clawed foot vanished between the trees did the archers move again. Without a word, they slid down the loose slope and hit the broken street below with smooth, practiced ease.

Luke and Allison followed, staying close, their nerves stretched thin and every step taut with caution. Anna ran ahead but glanced sideways mid-sprint, her voice surprisingly calm. "This kind of thing?" she said. "It's normal here."

Normal?

Luke blinked, barely able to process it.

"Prehistoric beasts, cryptids, folklore from every civilization on Earth. If someone believed in it once, chances are it exists here."

He swallowed, his throat dry. This wasn't a simulation. It wasn't just a tutorial. This place was its own world.

He and Allison stayed at the rear, watching their flank as the group pushed forward. Allison scanned the forest for movement, blades ready. But Luke wasn't watching the trees—he was watching the survivors.

Their faces weren't filled with panic. They were far past panic.

They were afraid.

Not of the dinosaurs.

Of something worse.

The Midnight Wardens.

The remnants of the city had fallen behind. Ahead, the forest rose up, dense and ancient. Gnarled roots tore through the ground like veins, and the branches overhead wove together into a ceiling of leaves that shut out the moonlight. There were no more streets. No more buildings. Only forest now, untamed and merciless.

In the center of it all lay a clearing.

The plants towered over them, thick with unnatural color. Some pulsed faintly, as if alive. Giant stalks lined with teeth-like leaves loomed above, surrounding twisted mouths that didn't move but looked like they could at any moment.

Anna raised her hand.

The group stopped.

"These plants are blind and deaf," she whispered. "But they sense everything through the ground."

The instructions were simple.

Step lightly.

No sound.

No sudden movements.

They advanced in silence, slipping between the stalks like ghosts. Every footstep felt heavier for Luke, as if gravity itself deepened the farther they went. His spine prickled. With each plant he passed, he felt something—something wrong. Not movement. Not sound. But presence. Intent. Like they weren't asleep, just pretending.

They looked dead.

But they weren't.

And he knew it.

What if one snapped awake? What if one wrong step was all it took?

Eventually, the plants thinned out, giving way to a narrow alley barely wide enough for one person. They moved through single file, shoulders brushing the cracked stone walls. At the end, a small hole had been cut into one side of the ruin—a dark opening, just big enough to crawl through.

One by one, the survivors entered, sliding into the earth like worms escaping the light.

Luke and Allison were the last.

The crawlspace was tight. No room to turn. The dirt and rock closed in from every side, pressing against their backs and arms. Claustrophobic. Breathless. Silent.

Then, finally, they emerged.

They were inside a house—or what used to be one. The windows showed only dirt, long since sealed and buried beneath the surface. No light came in. No sound came from outside.

It was safe.

A perfect hideout.

"We… we made it," one of the archers gasped, collapsing against a crumbling wall. Another trembled as he lowered his bow, hands still shaking from the adrenaline.

Anna remained calm, her expression unreadable. "We'll rest here until sunrise."

Luke let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The silence felt like a fragile thing, one wrong word away from breaking.

And then... a voice cut through it.

"You."

Tension snapped through the room like a drawn wire.

A bowstring stretched taut.

Luke turned.

One of the archers stood with his weapon aimed straight at him. The arrow's tip didn't waver. It was pointed directly at Luke's chest.

"Corner. Now," the man said, voice cold. "No sudden moves… or I shoot."

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