Reever kept running with his camouflage skill active, his footsteps silent as he moved through the broken corridors of the facility. The air felt heavy, stale, and old, like the place had been abandoned in a hurry and never touched again. Broken lights flickered above him from time to time, casting brief shadows that disappeared as quickly as they came.
He glanced at the timer displayed on his watch.
"Two hours and forty minutes remaining," he muttered to himself.
The number did not scare him, but it did not comfort him either. Three hours sounded like a lot of time on paper, but in a match like this, time slipped away fast. Missions took longer than expected, fights happened without warning, and death always came faster than planned.
All participants had three hours to complete five missions. That was the rule. He had not even completed his first one yet.
As he ran, the mission objective replayed itself in his mind.
Collect ten power cores.
At first glance, it sounded simple. Find cores, collect them, deliver them, and move on. But the more he thought about it, the more twisted the mission felt. The system had not put a personal limit on how many cores one player could carry. A single player could technically collect all ten.
But there was a catch.
The mission only ended when all ten power cores were delivered.
Not nine. Not eight. Ten.
That meant no matter how skilled a single player was, if others failed, everyone failed. If someone died while holding a core and lost it, the mission stalled. If a sabotage team stole even one core and hid it, the mission dragged on endlessly.
It was not just a test of strength. It was a test of patience, awareness, and luck.
"As expected of the system," Reever scoffed quietly as he kept moving. "It plays dirty with everyone."
The mission was designed to chain players together, whether they liked it or not. Cooperation without trust. Progress without certainty. Failure waiting around every corner.
And this was only the first mission.
He still had four more to complete.
The thought made him slow down slightly, his mind shifting gears. This was not a match where he could mess around. He could not afford to waste time enjoying fights or chasing unnecessary kills. Every second mattered.
And to make things worse, there were teams assigned specifically to sabotage missions like his.
They could steal cores.
They could hide them.
They could pretend to help and then stab someone in the back.
This was bad news for most players.
Reever clicked his tongue softly in annoyance. For players who relied on teamwork or brute force, this mission was a nightmare. Even a strong squad could get stuck searching for a single missing core while time bled away.
A thought crossed his mind.
What if he took another mission at the same time.
If he could multitask, maybe he could make better use of the limited time.
The system shut that idea down immediately.
A blue notification appeared in front of him.
[A player can choose another mission only after finishing the first mission.
Missions cannot be forfeited.
Failure to complete the mission results in game over.]
The message vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
Reever let out a slow breath.
"So it is all or nothing," he murmured.
The system was not even pretending to be kind.
His compass suddenly reacted, the needle twitching sharply before locking onto a direction. A soft pulse spread through the display.
A power core was nearby.
And judging by the strength of the signal, it was very close.
Reever slowed his pace immediately, switching from a run to a careful walk. He moved quietly, every step deliberate as he approached the source of the signal. The closer he got, the stronger the pulse became, until it was almost impossible to ignore.
When he finally reached the location, his steps stopped.
His eyes widened slightly behind his helmet.
There were no players.
Instead, the area was crawling with monsters.
They were humanoid in shape but twisted in a way that made them unsettling to look at. Their heads resembled cockroaches, wide and segmented, with twitching antennae that scraped the air. Their bodies were bulky and hunched, covered in countless sharp quills like a porcupine, each one glinting faintly under the broken lights.
They moved in clusters, clicking and hissing softly as they guarded something at the center of the room.
Reever's gaze followed their movements.
Floating near the center were four power cores.
Four.
They hovered together, glowing with a soft bluish light, as if the monsters had gathered them intentionally.
Reever felt a strange mix of relief and annoyance.
Relief, because this meant progress.
Annoyance, because it meant a fight.
"Guess I am not the first one here," he thought quietly.
His eyes tracked the monsters more carefully now. There were a lot of them. Not dozens. Not hundreds.
Thousands.
"Maybe I should name them cockrupines," he mused to himself, the absurd thought easing the tension just a little. Cockroaches plus porcupines. It fit too well.
The moment he shifted his weight, one of the creatures stopped moving.
Then another.
Slowly, the entire horde turned in his direction.
Their antennae twitched sharply, sensing something they could not see.
Raugh.
Raugh.
The sound echoed through the room, harsh and ugly.
They had detected him.
"So much for stealth," Reever muttered as he summoned his weapon.
He kept his camouflage active, though he knew it did not matter anymore. These creatures did not rely on sight alone. They sensed movement, heat, and probably things the system never bothered to explain.
"This is going to be fun," he said, a short laugh escaping him as he raised his weapon.
He fired.
The bullets tore through the front lines of the horde, ripping into chitin and flesh. The impact sent bodies crashing into one another, creatures collapsing in jerking heaps.
The first volley alone took down more than seventy of them.
Their screeches filled the air, sharp and piercing. The sound was not just pain. It was anger.
Then something strange happened.
The remaining cockrupines stopped moving.
They stood still, all facing his direction, even though they could not see him.
For a brief moment, the room went quiet.
Too quiet.
Reever's instincts screamed at him.
The quills on their bodies began to tremble.
Then they launched.
Millions of sharp quills ripped free from their bodies and flew toward him like a storm of needles, filling the air so completely that it looked like a solid wall rushing at him.
"Shit," Reever cursed as his eyes widened. "What the hell is this."
His first instinct was to run.
He turned and sprinted, pushing his body as hard as he could. His legs moved fast, faster than he thought possible, but the wave behind him was relentless.
A reckless thought flashed through his mind.
Test the armor.
He cursed himself for even considering it and kept running, his heart pounding.
Then the first quill hit him.
It bounced off harmlessly.
Then another.
And another.
None of them pierced his armor.
Reever slowed down, then stopped completely.
He turned around slowly as the storm of quills rained down on him.
They struck his armor over and over, clattering against it like hail against metal.
Not a single one broke through.
"Guess my armor really is something else," he said quietly, more surprised than proud.
He stood still as the quills buried him completely, covering his body until he disappeared beneath the pile.
From the monsters' perspective, the enemy was gone.
The room fell silent once more.
Reever remained standing under the weight, unharmed, waiting patiently as the chaos settled.