The sound around him vanished. Voices became nothing more than a distant hum. His brain refused to process.
Luke could see mouths moving. He knew people were talking—knew Allison was asking questions. But he couldn't hear a thing. The air felt thin. The floor stretched farther beneath his feet.
Eight years!
His heart pounded like a war drum.
Eight years!
His blood ran cold, rushing through his veins like ice water. If he couldn't find a way out… if he was trapped here… if there was no return—he would become another name on a missing persons list. Just another corpse no one ever found.
Then the thought hit him. His mother. Thirteen years gone. Thirteen years without a trace.
A chill coiled around his spine.
Did she go through something like this? Is she still trapped somewhere?
His thoughts spiraled.
Why didn't the government ever say anything about this kind of tutorial? Spending months or even a year in one is already insanely risky. But eight years? That's insane.
He dug deeper.
Maybe... no one knows. After all, the only ones who understand this hell are the ones trapped inside it.
He took a deep breath.
There's no way, in a hundred years of tutorials on Earth... this has never happened before. Or did I just get unlucky enough to land in the hardest tutorial of all?
Forcing himself to snap back, he tried to listen. Angelica was still speaking. Allison stood silent beside him. Her breathing had slowed. She'd shoved the fear down deep, just like he was doing.
"I'm not saying give up on returning to Earth," Angelica said at last. She crossed her arms, locking eyes with both of them. "I'm saying accept the possibility… that you won't."
Her words hit like a cold blade.
"If you want to help us finish this tutorial, you have to think long-term. Hope is fine—" her gaze sharpened, "—but hope without realism will get you killed."
Silence.
Then—
"I'm giving you a dose of harsh reality."
She raised three fingers.
"There are three factions in this world," Angelica said, her voice level, practical.
She repeated what Anna had told them before—but now, there was more.
"The Renegades appeared five years ago. Led by a man named Marshall." Her eyes darkened. "They've been at war with Bartholomew's faction ever since. Territory raids. Ambushes. Executions."
Angelica leaned forward slightly.
"The Wild Zone isn't just dangerous because of monsters. If the Renegades see you, they might think you're with Bartholomew."
As if the monsters weren't already bad enough...
She reached down, picked something off the table, and tossed it toward them. It clattered against the wood.
A tooth.
No. A fang. Jagged, thick, yellowed with age.
Luke stared at it. Definitely not from any dinosaur he'd seen.
"This world holds more than just prehistoric beasts," Angelica said. "There's something worse."
She tapped the fang with her finger. "Orcs."
The word made the room colder.
"They're not like the other monsters. They're smart." Her expression hardened. "They hunt in groups. If they see you, they'll track you until you're dead. And they don't just hunt for food..." Her eyes narrowed. "They hunt for sport."
Luke and Allison exchanged glances, both remembering the nightmare back in the village.
"In the deeper parts of the Wild Zone, orcs have villages. Caves. Encampments. Some ride velociraptors. Others command larger beasts. They wield spears, slings, axes..."
Luke's stomach sank. Now it made sense.
"That's why reaching the castle is nearly impossible," Angelica continued. "The orcs own everything."
She reached for another object on the table—a crude wooden figure, a king's crown carved clumsily into its head.
"In the first year of this tutorial..." Her voice dropped, steady, grim. "...it was a massacre."
She spun the figurine between her fingers. "Everything you see now—this whole city—was once just Wild Zone."
"By day, we were hunted by orcs. By night..." Her eyes darkened. "...by the Midnight Wardens."
Luke and Allison shivered. The memory was still sharp—the towering black knight that walked like death itself.
Angelica's voice sharpened. "That's when Bartholomew and his group made a suicidal decision."
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She tossed the figurine onto the table. "They attacked."
Luke felt his shoulders tense.
"They invaded what we now call Bastion. Over fifty people joined the mission—to kill the Warden who ruled that zone."
She paused, eyes distant, staring into memory. "That night..."
Silence tightened its grip on the room.
"Only four returned."
Luke and Allison barely breathed.
"Bartholomew... and Marshall were among them."
Paul spoke then, still facing the window. "They were friends once."
His tone was heavy. "But the fallout from that night broke them. That's when the Renegades were born."
No one spoke. Luke's mind reeled.
Fifty people... died. Just to kill a single Midnight Warden.
His throat tightened. That thing he'd seen—it wasn't just a monster.
It was an army in armor.
Angelica pressed on. "The closer you get to the castle..." She pointed at the map sprawled across the table. "...the more Midnight Wardens patrol the streets at night. And the more orcs rise with the dawn."
Allison bit her lip.
"And the deeper you go into the Wild Zone..." Angelica's gaze locked onto them, cold and unyielding. "...the worse the predators become."
She leaned forward. "Now do you understand why no one's gotten near that castle?"
Silence.
Luke ran a hand down his face. The weight of it all... it was suffocating.
Angelica crossed her arms. "After Bartholomew killed that Midnight Warden... none of them ever came near this place again."
Paul finally turned from the window. "Over time, we started blocking routes. Cutting off access. Fortifying whatever ground we took."
Angelica rolled another wooden carving between her fingers. This one was different—a replica of the hotel they stood in now.
"That's how the Safe Zone was born."
Paul exhaled. "But the problem is..." He looked at them now. "...Bartholomew rules this place like a king."
Luke raised an eyebrow. "His men patrol the streets like a militia," Paul continued, his voice laced with quiet bitterness. "They offer 'protection'... in exchange for labor."
He gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "...in exchange for labor."
Luke didn't blink.
Control the security. Control the people. Monopoly on force. Monopoly on survival.
Paul pointed out the window. "Anyone with a profession awakened through the system? They're pressured—sometimes forced—to work for him."
Luke's jaw tightened.
"They handle monster attacks," Paul said. "They sell meat from the kills. They run the farms. Control the water. They own the forges. The weaponsmiths..."
"And of course..." His voice dropped. "...they control the healers."
Luke drew a sharp breath. In a world like this... injuries were death sentences.
If the healers were under Bartholomew's control... then he didn't just rule the city. He ruled life and death.
Angelica stood and tossed the carved hotel onto the table with a dull thud. "To live under that 'protection'..." Her voice dripped with disdain. "You pay tribute."
Luke understood instantly.
"You contribute," she continued. "Sewing. Cleaning streets. Dumping carcasses. Chopping wood. Hauling rubble..."
Another wooden figure spun between her fingers—this one shaped like a man.
"Bartholomew and his soldiers are the strongest here. Best gear. Highest levels."
And finally, Luke could see the full system at play.
"The more beasts they kill," Angelica said, "the stronger they get. The more monsters they hunt, the more loot they secure."
She smiled bitterly. "I heard they obtained a powerful item..."
Luke looked up, tense. "...something they took after killing the Midnight Warden."
She picked up the wooden hotel again. "And then... there's us. Haven."
"Just regular people," Paul added. "The ones who just want to survive."
Angelica took a breath. "Not everyone who came here wanted to be a warrior."
Luke felt the weight behind those words—because his mother had been the same.
She hadn't come here to fight.
She came... to earn a better life. To find dignity.
"To most people," Angelica said softly, "the tutorial was supposed to be a way to change their future. To get a better job. A better place in society."
Her eyes darkened. "But now..." She let the carved hotel fall back onto the table.
"They're trapped in hell."
***
The meeting with Angelica was over.
Luke and Allison walked through the crumbling streets of the city, guided by Anna and Cecilia. The mute archer signed quickly—sharp, deliberate movements.
Anna translated. "She says you don't have to worry about food or shelter. We'll assign a tent for you two."
"Thanks," Allison replied quietly.
Anna didn't stop there. "That is... if you choose to stay with Haven."
Luke raised an eyebrow.
"You're free to survive on your own..." Anna continued. "You can try to live on the edge of Bastion..."
She hesitated.
"Or join Bartholomew's faction... and become one of his soldiers."
Luke and Allison exchanged a glance.
"I've been trying to complete the mission with my team," Anna added, her voice heavier now. "But you'll understand soon... why most people don't even try to leave this place."
A shiver ran down Luke's spine.
The city was alive. Even in ruin. Even in decay, it pulsed with grim vitality. The sound of vendors shouting. The scent of roasted meat. The constant clink of tools sharpening blades.
Then they saw it.
A massive statue stood in the center of the plaza. A king carved from stone, holding a scroll in one hand.
People were gathered around it, eyes wide, faces pale.
"The new arrivals," Anna explained. "They're gathering here."
Luke and Allison stopped. Those people… they were like them. Fresh arrivals. Survivors who had only recently entered this twisted tutorial.
Luke watched closely. All of them were staring at the statue. There was something about it. Something wrong.
The newcomers stepped closer, hesitant.
And then, one by one, their expressions shifted. Panic. Terror. Despair.
Allison swallowed hard. "What's making them look like that?"
Luke said nothing at first. He studied their faces—the sudden horror.
"It must trigger something in the system," he said quietly. "Something bad."
Allison's voice wavered. "You think it's...?"
Luke took a breath and stepped forward.
As he reached the statue, a notification appeared.
*Mission Statue Activation Detected*
You have reached the heart of the kingdom, the Grand Capital. Well done, Challenger. The fate of this world now lies in your hands.
Hidden across the vast city lie three ancient mechanisms. They hold shut the castle gates, sealing the path forward. You must find them. Activate them. Only then will the way open. But be warned, the journey ahead will test you.
Each mechanism is protected by one of the Three Lords, sovereigns of their domains and unyielding in their power.
The Orc Lord, who bathes the weak in blood and rules through brute force.
The Beast Lord, whose primal dominion commands the creatures of the wild.
The Midnight Lord, the tireless guardian of the Capital and eternal servant of the throne.
But know this, there is a cost. Once the ancient seal is broken, the Midnight Wardens will never again rest. They will rise and march without end, consuming all that stands in their path. Even the long-abandoned lands will fall once more beneath their shadow. The Midnight Lord himself will awaken, bringing swift and merciless punishment to those who dared to defy the sealed order.
Beyond the castle gates lies a portal, the only exit from this world. But passage through it is not freely given. It is watched endlessly, guarded by forces that do not permit escape without challenge.
At the very heart of the castle, upon a throne forgotten by time, waits the Midnight King. Those who cross into his domain must face the Witch, once sealed away for endangering the balance of the realm. But she is not the final trial. For the one who truly rules these lands watches still, unseen, awaiting the moment to pass final judgment.
Luke stared at the glowing words, each sentence carving deeper into his mind. This was the truth. The reason no one ever made it out. Everyone who tried to complete the mission... vanished.
If anyone activated the mechanisms, the Midnight Wardens would awaken in full force. They would never stop. If someone reached the portal, they'd face enemies that made the orcs look tame. And if somehow they survived all that... the Witch and the Midnight King would be waiting.
Luke clenched his fists, his breath growing shallow.
This wasn't a tutorial.
It was a death sentence.
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