I slept on my pristine bed. The mattress was firm but welcoming, the sheets crisp, smelling faintly of detergent. A comfort I hadn’t felt since before this nightmare began. Some of us were still downstairs, the faint hum of chatter drifting upward—TV static, the clicking of controllers, a burst of muffled arguments over a game. But most had started to settle down, exhaustion finally pulling us into our rooms one by one.

  Each of our rooms on the second floor had a nameplate above the door, illuminated softly by a glowing script. Alongside our names was a symbol marking our class. Mine was etched with the outline of a wizard’s hat, comically pointy. The women and men were separated—left side for them, right for us. It felt like a dormitory.

  Every door had a biometric print scanner on both sides—slick and black. A hand pressed against it made the lock click open. I might have been overanalyzing, but the thought gnawed at me: if one of us wanted to, they could trap another inside their room.

  We could use our abilities here; a few had tested that much. But none of us had dared to try destroying the furniture, walls, or even the floors. Maybe it wasn’t possible. Maybe the system wouldn’t allow it. Or maybe it was possible, and whoever tried would suffer for it.

  For now, I pushed the thoughts aside. I deserved rest. Nobody still awake was being loud enough to bother me, and the dim hum of the base almost lulled me by itself.

  I closed my eyes and never opened them.

  “Haruto.”

  The voice was familiar, achingly familiar.

  When I opened my eyes again, the sterile dorm was gone. My surroundings shifted into a vast field, the kind that stretched endlessly, golden stalks of wheat swaying in the wind. The sky was pale blue, too perfect, the kind of sky painted in memory rather than reality. The air smelled sweet—sun-warmed wheat, cut grass, something nostalgic that pressed against my chest.

  That voice had come from my right.

  I turned.

  It was Yuri. She stood about fifteen feet away, head bowed low. My breath caught short. Her hair, once long and soft, was cut shorter, uneven, like it had been hacked away. Worse, she wore a straitjacket, her arms bound tightly against her chest. The white cloth was dirt-stained, straps pulled taut, the kind of thing only meant for the most broken.

  She still radiated that same calm, kind energy I remembered. But it was wrong now.

  Yuri began walking toward me. Slowly. Her head never lifted, her chin pinned down as if invisible hands pressed it there.

  I fought the urge to step back. My heart pounded; every instinct screamed to put distance between us, but I forced my legs to stay still.

  Her footsteps rustled softly through the wheat until she was mere inches away. Close enough that I could hear her shallow breathing, close enough that I could see the trembling of her lips.

  Then, finally, she lifted her face.

  It wasn’t her face anymore. Where her features should have been was nothing but a black void—bottomless, hungry, endless. The sight hollowed me out, a chill sweeping over my skin so violently I felt like my soul was being tugged forward.

  Her voice twisted and distorted, layered with static, unnatural—Yuri’s tone laced with something alien.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “Return.”

  My alarm clock rang. The sound shattered the vision like glass.

  I nearly jumped out of my bed from the nightmare, my body slick with sweat. My chest rose and fell like I’d just sprinted miles. I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands to calm myself. That was just a nightmare. Just a dream.

  But... I don’t even know if nightmares are fake anymore.

  A sharp knock echoed from my door, jolting me out of my spiraling thoughts.

  “Are you awake?” Isabella’s voice called.

  I took a breath and answered, “Yeah, yeah.” I shut off the alarm clock.

  Throwing the blanket off, I padded across the room barefoot, the cold floor grounding me. When I opened the door, Isabella stood there—different from before. She wasn’t in her plain clothes anymore.

  She looked... like a witch.

  A dark green robe, patterned with brown lines, hung elegantly from her frame. A small headband brushed ever so slightly on her head. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, like it carried alchemical residue still clinging to it.

  She gestured at herself. “Oh. This is the equipment I was given. Alchemist Garments, it read. Looks like something a witch would wear to me, though.”

  I couldn’t deny it suited her. “Looks good on you.”

  Her lips curved into a small smile as she twirled a strand of hair. “Thanks. I don't know if my husband would like it.”

  Then, her face stiffened. “Sosuke wants everyone to gather in front of the console. He demands we head to the next floor.”

  I blinked. “Shouldn't we continue what we were doing yesterday?”

  Isabella shrugged, her robe rustling like dried leaves. “Sosuke said it would be too hard to keep up with everyone's skills all the time. He's put Desmond in charge of keeping track.”

  I tilted my head. “Desmond?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Desmond. His unique skill allows him to see what the system sees. You might think that he holds the key to leaving, but in reality all he sees is what monsters there are on the next floor and our information.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Did he prove it?”

  Isabella turned, already heading for the stairs. “He did. He knew my unique skill.”

  That silenced me. I closed the door behind me and followed her down.

  The living room buzzed with life. Everyone was dressed differently now, their equipment wrapped around them like second skins, fitting their classes in strange, theatrical ways. Soto gleamed in brown leather armor, Mary was draped in cloths and symbols, and someone else, who looked like an assassin, was in lighter gear that almost blended into the shadows.

  Sosuke stood near the center, arms spread wide like some prophet addressing his flock. His grin was too self-satisfied. “There you are. Slept pretty late. It's already eleven.”

  I furrowed my brow. “We can't even have two days off?”

  Eli was in front of the console room, fists flickering through the air in a shadow-boxing rhythm. Sweat gleamed off his skin like he’d been at it all morning. He answered without missing a beat, “We put it to a vote. Nine to two. Your vote wouldn't have changed anything.”

  My jaw clenched. I didn’t answer him. Instead, I stormed past the group, my footsteps sharp against the floor. I shoved the console room’s door open with enough force to make it clear I was angry. The heavy door swung wide and held itself in place.

  The room inside was ceremonial. A single stand in the middle held one thing. A red button.

  I don't need to know what monsters lie ahead. I will handle it, no matter what.

  I opened my status window, the glowing display hovering at my fingertips. With a decisive tap, I selected my equipment. A white light burst around me, enveloping me head to toe.

  When the glow faded, my reflection in the console’s polished surface stared back. A white undershirt clung to me, a red tie draped loosely at my chest, and over it all hung a dark blue cape that reached nearly to my thighs.

  Not exactly what I imagined a wizard’s robe would be, but it had presence.

  I set my hand on the red button. “Your funeral.”

  Schoom!

  Heat slammed into me like a wave, stealing the breath from my lungs. Sand shifted under my feet, loose and treacherous, making me stumble forward. My eyes squinted against the white-hot brightness of the sun above. The air was dry, suffocating, tasting like dust on my tongue.

  Where is everyone?

  I turned in every direction. The dunes stretched endlessly, waves of sand shimmering under the sun’s fire. Not a soul in sight.

  Then, the system blinked into existence right in front of my eyes.