Chapter 4
The Truth
The reward chamber was… silent.
For the first time since awakening in this metal nightmare, Mason heard nothing. No pipes hissing. No gears grinding. No system voice chirping in mock cheer.
Just stillness.
The air was warm here. Almost clean.
Ahead, the cube spun slowly above the pedestal. Suspended midair, softly glowing. It pulsed faintly, matching the beat of his own heart.
He stepped closer.
Naya stood just behind him, tense, eyes darting.
Neither spoke.
Then—
DING.
A screen flared into being above the pedestal.
[Premium Reward Accessed — First Arrival Confirmed]
Contestant: Mason
Category: Premium Tier (D–F)
Choose one:
🔹 Combat Module (Tier D)
Unlock a focused weapon-based skill. Based on observed combat tendencies.
🔹 Stat Boost x2 (Choose 2 attributes)
Permanent increase. System-locked cap lifted.
🔹 Environmental Adaptation
Gain resistance or bonuses based on surrounding hazards (fire, rust, electricity, etc.)
🔹 GAMBLE+
Spin for Tier A–F reward. Outcome fully random. May include rare or prototype abilities.
Warning: Irreversible.
Mason stared.
His breath caught for a second.
"…That's a real selection," he muttered.
Naya nodded behind him, voice flat. "Told you it was worth getting here first."
He flicked through the options with slow, steady fingers.
The Combat Module was tempting.
Stat Boost x2... safe. Reliable. But boring.
Environmental Adaptation? That one was strange. Probably powerful in the right zone, but it screamed "long-term investment." Not immediate survival.
His eyes stopped on the last option.
GAMBLE+.
Brighter than the others.
It pulsed.
Like it was watching him.
Don't be stupid, he thought. Don't do it again.
But his hand moved.
Just a little.
Toward it.
Mason stared at the GAMBLE+ icon.
It spun lazily in place, glowing brighter than the rest—like it knew.
Like it wanted him to press it.
Behind him, Naya shifted her weight. Not impatient—tense.
"You're not actually going to pick that again," she said. It wasn't a question.
He exhaled slowly. "What would you pick?"
"Stat boost," she said immediately. "Every time. Two points? That's gold."
"You don't want to be surprised?"
"I want to survive."
Mason let her words hang in the air.
He remembered the spider. The pain. The leg piercing through his shoulder like a rail spike.
The spark that followed.
The moment everything clicked, even through agony.
The feeling of power.
I was never alive like I was in that moment.
His hand moved.
He tapped GAMBLE+.
The screen exploded into motion.
Dozens of icons spun past—swords, wings, skulls, flames, coins, question marks, and a few shapes too fast to comprehend.
The entire room buzzed.
Even the light around the cube changed—flickering, strobing in chaotic rhythm.
This is different than last time.
Then—
CLACK.
Everything stopped.
The screen dimmed.
[GAMBLE+ Result: Prototype Skill — Red Wire]
Unstable neurological override.
Grants a burst of speed and violent aggression for 7 seconds. May induce hallucinations. Side effects intensify with each use.
Caution: Risk of nervous system trauma.
Mason blinked.
"…Red Wire?"
A second screen unfolded beneath the first.
[Skill: Red Wire — Tier ?]
Type: Active
Cooldown: 2 minutes
Effect: Manifests an override node in the user's spine. Temporarily amplifies motor control and adrenaline output. Pain resistance spikes. Sanity… questionable.
Drawback: System will not interfere if user exceeds survivability threshold.
"Holy hell," Naya muttered behind him. "That's not a reward. That's a gamble with your brain."
Mason stepped back from the pedestal.
His hands were trembling.
He didn't know if it was from excitement… or dread.
What did I just take into my body…?
The reward capsule dimmed.
The spinning cube slowed and stopped.
Silence returned.
She stepped forward, a blue screen blinking to life in front of her.
"Guess I'm second place," she muttered.
Mason didn't reply.
He watched the wall behind the pedestal.
For some reason, it hadn't opened.
Last time the way forward came fast.
But not this time.
The room stayed sealed.
The lights stayed dim.
His unease began to grow.
Then—
BZZZT.
The screen changed again.
Bright red.
Sharp tone.
[Centre Zone Lockdown Initiated]
Only one contestant may proceed.
Eliminations Required: 0/2
The room went quiet.
Mason blinked. Once. Twice.
"…What?"
Naya's hand froze mid-selection. She turned toward the screen.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"One?"
Only one?
Only one contestant can proceed?
Mason's mind went blank for a moment. No system voice. No countdown. Just that line, hanging in the air like a noose.
He swallowed.
"…They want us to kill each other."
Naya stepped away from her console.
"No. That—no. That wasn't part of the rules. It didn't say that."
"It didn't say it wasn't."
"Then it's lying. It's trying to mess with us. There has to be a trick."
He wanted to believe her.
But the system didn't play games.
It set the rules—and let them become the game.
His eyes flicked back to the screen.
That second line.
Eliminations Required: 0/2
His breath caught.
"…Two?"
Naya blinked.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
"…There's only us," she said. "Just you and me."
"But it says two."
Her eyes widened.
Slowly, she turned toward the far corners of the chamber.
Not looking at him anymore.
Not scared of him anymore.
Scared of something else.
"…Then someone else is still here."
The chamber suddenly felt too big.
Too many corners.
Too many shadows.
Too many places to hide.
Mason's eyes scanned the walls. Every cable looked like it could move. Every vent sounded like breathing.
Eliminations Required: 0 / 2
Whoever it was… they hadn't just arrived.
They'd been here.
Waiting.
Watching.
Naya's posture had shifted completely. Her feet moved with the light bounce of someone ready to fight or run. She gripped her pipe like she wasn't going to hesitate.
Mason took a slow step forward.
"I'll check the west wall," he said.
"Be careful."
He didn't bother saying you too.
She already was.
The room was circular—twenty meters across, maybe a bit more. The walls weren't smooth, either. Exposed beams, access hatches, and ventilation shafts broke the symmetry.
Mason reached one of the vents.
Too small for a person, but just large enough to echo.
He crouched low, listening.
Nothing.
Then—
A soft creak behind him.
He turned, fast—
Just Naya, circling the opposite side of the room. Eyes sharp. Jaw set.
"You think they were watching us the whole time?" she asked, voice low.
"Has to be. Otherwise why the delay?"
"…Maybe they were waiting to see who got the reward."
Mason didn't answer.
He didn't want to say it out loud.
Maybe they were waiting to see who would fight first.
He checked another corner. Behind a slanted chunk of wall, half-melted from a past explosion. It looked like it had once been part of a door.
No movement. No breathing. No—
Tap.
Mason spun toward the noise.
Just a drip of water. Condensation.
But his body didn't relax.
"Nothing?" Naya called softly.
"No."
She paused.
Then, quietly: "…You believe me, right? That I didn't know about this?"
He looked at her.
Her eyes were scared, but steady.
"…Yeah," he said. "I believe you."
A pause.
Then—
CLUNK.
One of the vents on the far side of the chamber rattled.
Not a drip.
Not the pipes.
Metal on metal. Deliberate.
They both froze.
From the darkness of the far grate—something moved.
Slow.
Scraping.
Breathing.
Mason's heartbeat ticked louder in his ears.
The scrape from the vent hadn't repeated. No growl. No shadow sliding out into view. Just that single sound—a metallic exhale in the dark.
Who the hell hides during a system reward phase?
Someone smart.
Or someone too weak to fight.
Or worse—
Someone who knew what was coming all along.
He swallowed hard, stepping closer to the vent, but not too close. The opening was jagged, a ring of fractured screws and torn mesh.
He crouched, slowly.
Peered inside.
Pitch black.
Nothing moved.
But that was somehow worse than seeing eyes.
Naya shifted to his right. Her stance was tighter now. Pipe raised. Knuckles white.
The system's line rang again in his head:
Only one contestant may proceed.
Eliminations Required: 0 / 2
There was no trick. No misunderstanding.
If one person wanted to leave—
Two people had to die.
Maybe they're waiting for us to break first. Let us fight it out. Then finish off the last one.
His stomach turned.
He looked at Naya.
She hadn't moved since the noise.
She was staring into the shadows—exactly like he was.
No way out.
No voice told them what to do next. No countdown. No direction. No rules.
Just that screen.
[0 / 2]
It's not going to change itself.
He turned his back to the vent.
Bad idea, probably. But it told whoever was hiding that he wasn't jumping at shadows.
"Come out," he said. Loud. Clear.
"Stop pretending this doesn't involve you."
Silence.
Then—
Something stirred.
Not a clatter this time. Not a rattle.
Footsteps.
But not from the vent.
From above.
Mason's head snapped up.
His eyes locked on the ceiling—a mess of scaffolding, metal beams, and segmented panels.
He saw it.
A figure.
Pressed against the ceiling like a spider. Clinging to a support beam with long limbs and a body that was too lean, too still.
And now—too late—Mason realized it had been watching them the whole time.
He wasn't human anymore.
Mason's breath caught in his throat as the figure uncoiled from the beam like liquid bone.
Long limbs bent at unnatural angles. Fingers spidered along the support strut — too many joints, too much flexibility. The torso stretched as it turned. Muscles pulled tight beneath veiny, ink-black skin.
A face looked down.
Or what was left of one.
Eyes gone.
Skin stretched thin over bone, pale and sunken. A mouth stitched with thick, metal thread, though something still twitched beneath the lips.
It dropped.
CRASH!
The thing landed in a crouch, silent despite the weight. One hand touched the ground. It rose slowly, vertebrae cracking, neck rolling in a smooth, serpentine arc.
Naya took a step back, pipe raised.
Mason didn't move.
Because in that thing's chest — half-buried in the ribcage — he saw it.
A glowing core.
A system node.
The same kind that triggered Red Wire in him.
He picked Gamble too...
But this wasn't just a risky buff.
This was a transformation.
The system had changed him.
Twisted him.
Corrupted him.
A screen blinked to life beside the figure. Flickering. Glitched.
[Skill: Maw of Malform] — Tier ???
Prototype Curse: Irreversible mutation.
Grants adaptive physiology and rapid physical evolution in exchange for cognitive stability.
Pain receptors disabled. Emotional dampening active. Host intelligence: compromised.
"Oh f—" Naya breathed, stepping behind Mason.
He raised a hand to signal stay calm.
But it was too late.
The thing turned to them, sniffed the air, and cocked its head with a wet pop.
Mason felt his own body tense as it crouched—
The creature lunged.
Its limbs didn't move like a person's. They lashed. Dislocated joints let the arms rotate mid-sprint, allowing it to twist unnaturally in midair and come down with a wide, tearing arc of hooked bone.
Mason ducked low—
Too slow.
The edge of its arm caught his chest. Not a cut. A rip.
SHRRRIP.
His shirt split. Flesh followed. Skin peeled open under the strike like wet paper. Blood poured hot and fast, painting his ribs red.
Pain detonated in his nerves.
He hit the floor, gasping, fingers clawing at the metal.
And then—
[Skill Triggered: Bloodspark]
Incoming damage detected.
Pain threshold exceeded.
Adrenaline Surge Activated.
A jolt shot through him like lightning.
His limbs responded before his thoughts did. Every nerve lit up—clear, sharp, furious. Time seemed to stutter as his heart hammered like a war drum.
The monster leapt again, its face slack, stitched mouth twitching open into something like a grin.
Mason rolled beneath the strike, dirt and blood smearing across the floor. He came up fast, grabbed a half-bent pipe near the pedestal, and swung.
CRACK!
The pipe collided with the monster's arm mid-swing. Bone cracked. The limb flopped uselessly for a moment, twitching from the impact.
Mason didn't stop.
He hit it again.
CLANG.
THWACK.
CRACK.
He pounded the metal into the creature's side, slamming it with raw panic and speed-boosted fury.
But then—
It stopped reacting.
Its body just absorbed the blows. Blood dripped, black and slow, but it didn't flinch.
Then its other arm came up.
And drove straight through Mason's shoulder.
KRCHT.
Not a punch.
Not a stab.
Just pure piercing mass — like someone had jammed a length of rebar through wet meat.
Mason screamed.
But he didn't fall.
He couldn't fall.
Bloodspark still surged in his veins.
He grabbed the thing's face—pushed against its skull—and tried to rip himself free.
The wound hissed. Heat bloomed in his chest. Something snapped in his back — a tendon, maybe.
He yanked himself off the bone.
SHLUK.
The blood sprayed in two directions — from him and from it.
His vision blurred, and suddenly the world shifted sideways. The floor hit his knees. He wobbled.
The monster hissed, rising again, limb hanging uselessly. Its ribs stuck out now. The glow in its chest was flickering — agitated.
Bloodspark is fading…
He could feel it.
The fire in his muscles flickered. His limbs slowed.
His body remembered it was hurt.
He collapsed against a metal crate. Pain burned through his shoulder and chest.
I can't keep going like this.
I'm done.
The creature stepped closer.
The broken arm was already healing.
It's not going to stop.
It's not going to feel anything.
Naya's voice echoed somewhere behind him—shouting, maybe trying to flank it—but Mason couldn't hear the words. Just the beat of his heart, and the thing that wouldn't die.
Red Wire.
He didn't want to use it.
Not so soon.
Not so recklessly.
But he had no choice.
His fingers twitched.
Then his hand curled into a fist.
He reached inward—
Toward the second node.
And pressed it.
[Skill Activated: RED WIRE]
Nervous override initiated.
Motor output increased.
Adrenaline flood triggered.
Cognitive dissonance: accepted.
Warning: Neurological strain rising.
You have 7 seconds.
The pain disappeared instantly.
His eyes snapped open — glowing faintly red.
His muscles locked into place like steel wires snapping taut.
A terrible heat burst in his chest, and for a second—just a second—he felt like a god trapped in broken flesh.
He moved.
The creature swiped again — lazy, predictable.
He ducked.
Sidestepped.
Grabbed its wrist and twisted.
CRUNCH.
The bone shattered beneath his grip. The elbow bent backward. Mason used the momentum to pull the creature into his knee, then grabbed it by the throat and hurled it into the wall.
BOOM!
The chamber trembled.
He dashed in after it, not giving it time to recover.
His broken arm didn't matter. He couldn't feel it anymore.
He drove his shoulder into the monster's gut, slamming it into the pedestal, then grabbed its head and slammed it against the floor.
Once.
Twice.
THIRD. TIME.
The metal buckled beneath it.
Black blood sprayed. Its skull caved.
And still it squirmed.
He screamed and tore one of its arms clean off at the joint, then stabbed it with its own sharpened bone—
SHHK.
—right into the flickering node in its chest.
The glow dimmed.
The body spasmed.
And finally—
It stopped moving.
Mason stood over the corpse, breathing hard.
His body was on fire.
His skin pulsed. His blood screamed.
The pain hadn't come back yet — but he knew it would.
Soon.
And when it did—
It would kill him.
He dropped to his knees, panting.
[Red Wire duration: 0 seconds remaining.]
[Overload risk: critical.]
[System cooldown engaged.]
His limbs collapsed underneath him.
His vision fractured.
Blood soaked the ground beneath him.
And as he lay there, chest rising and falling in ragged waves—
He realized something.
The screen hadn't updated yet.
[Eliminations Required: 0 / 2]
He blinked.
"No…"
Because the monster he killed—
Wasn't registered.