A surprise attack!

  The carbuncle launched from the undergrowth. One second, it was hidden – a pair of glowing eyes in the shadows. The next, it was a furred streak, darting toward the like a homing bullet.

  The Jiggyjugs – towering, vine-wrapped pitcher-plants with snapping maws and lashing tendrils – never saw it coming. Their guttural hisses and the squelch of their bulbous tendrils tearing the earth and air drowned out the rustle of the carbuncle’s approach. The hunters were too salivating on their prey.

  Then the world turned white.

  The carbuncle detonated. A pulse of searing light erupted from its body like a miniature supernova that scorched the air and left the twilight world in stark, burning relief.

  The Jiggyjugs screeched, their tendrils whipping blindly as their photosensitive maws clamped shut in agony, acrid juices spraying scorching the earth. Some collapsed, their bulbous bodies thrashing as they clawed at their own leaves. Others staggered, their vines tangling together, their hisses dissolving into panicked squeals.

  Jin had been ready. Always.

  He’d felt the carbuncle’s intent a split second before it moved. Call it instinct. Perhaps there was some unspoken signal between them. How he came to understand it, he didn’t know. Nor did he care. His head snapped away just as the light erupted, the world behind his eyelids flaring bright. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t hesitate.

  His next destination was clear.

  The afterimage of the carbuncle, which was still crackling with residual energy, burned in his vision as he ploughed through the disoriented horde. Though the Jiggyjugs have been rendered into nothing more than a disoriented mob, nonetheless, without any power of his own unlike a Player, Jin still needed to be careful. One slight swipe was all it needed to cut the man in half.

  Jin ducked under a wild lash, his shoulder slamming into a pitcher-shaped body and sending it crashing into its neighbours. He weaved between the thrashing monster; his boots barely touched the ground dirt as he closed the distance to the girl.

  She was blinded. Struggling.

  “H-Hey! W-Who – what the-?!”

  Jin didn’t waste breath. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, her momentum breaking her stupor.

  She stumbled with her ankles twisting beneath her, nearly pulling Jin down with her. Fortunately, he had anticipated that reaction, catching her mid-fall, his arms hooking under her knees and back. She was lighter than he expected. Petite, almost fragile beneath the bulk of her gear.

  Not that it mattered. Adrenaline had given Jin the needed strength as he sprinted towards safety.

  The archer, still with ragged gasps, clung to Jin for dear life, her fingers clawing into his nape.

  The carbuncle had already streaked ahead of them, its tiny body a blur of furry motion, darting between the writhing Jiggyjugs with unnatural precision. But it wasn’t an aimless run. It led, its tail flicking like a banner, carving a route through the chaos.

  Jin followed without question. There was no time to think. No time to doubt. The carbuncle knew the way. And Jin trusted it.

  <<< T – MINUS 985 SECONDS >>>

  Fifteen minutes.

  That was all they had.

  Jin risked a glance upward. The dragon still hung in the sky, its massive, motionless form a silhouette against the eerie sky. But its wings were no longer folded. They were spread wide, ready to carve the heavens themselves.

  Jin felt it – the monstrosity was waiting. For something.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  What it was, he didn’t care. All in his mind right now was to run. Faster. Toward home. Survive. And live to tell the tale.

  ***

  “C-Can you let me down, now?”

  Jin stopped and brought the archer to her feet. After a quick once-over, making sure she could run without slowing him down, he urged her to follow him.

  “Come, let’s get the hell out of here, pronto.”

  The two ran through the forest as fast as they could. Even as an unawakened, Jin’s speed and agility weren’t outmatched by the girl’s. He didn’t just keep up. He led, pointing out the path through the forest maze like he’d memorised it.

  “How can you move so well?” the archer asked as they ducked under tangled vines. “You’re not a Player, are you?”

  Jin shook his head. “Experience,” he added. “And maybe… with a big dose of reality.”

  “Reality?”

  Jin slowed his speed to a jog.

  “Unlike you Players, we know what we can or can’t do. Like not provoking monsters that aren’t hostile. Or finding the quickest path to safety.”

  “Oh…”

  “One mistake,” Jin said, his voice low, “and you’re dead before you can scream.”

  “I-I’m… s-sorry.”

  The change in the archer’s demeanour brought a faint, bitter smile to Jin’s face. Players never apologise to an unawakened. Never like this.

  “I guess I owe you my life.”

  “Well,” Jin said, “not just me. There’s the little one that helped you earlier.”

  “Little one?”

  Jin nodded toward the carbuncle, who stood only a few feet away. He beckoned once, and the furry creature bounced toward him before nestling into the crook of his jumpsuit like it belonged there. Its head peeked out and, with eyes glowing faintly, watched the archer with quiet curiosity.

  “This little one. Done more for you than I could ever have.”

  The archer’s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, then pulled back. The carbuncle tilted its head, letting out a soft kri. She looked away, her throat stuck with a lump.

  “Feeling guilty, Miss Archer?”

  “I-I-I…” Her gaze dropped to the ground.

  Jin didn’t push. He’d seen enough guilt to know when to leave it alone. Instead, he led her out of the forest in silence. They reached the base camp with time to spare. As he’d expected, they were the last two.

  <<< T – MINUS 321 SECONDS >>>

  “Now, go through the portal, Miss Archer.”

  “You go first,” she said.

  “Nope.” Jin patted the carbuncle’s head as it climbed down to the ground. “Still got to say goodbye to this little one.”

  He knelt, scratching behind its ears. The carbuncle leaned into his touch, purring in delight. Their meeting might be temporary, but their connection transcended those of closest friends. His throat tightened.

  “Well, partner,” Jin said, his voice cracking a little. “Been good knowing you. Remember me, alright. I know I will.”

  Even the archer – who’d tried to kill it for sport – knelt beside Jin, tears in her eyes as she whispered apologies over and over. The carbuncle rubbed its head against her hand, as if to say, ‘It’s okay.’

  Jin exhaled, wiping a hint of moisture from his eyes.

  “You know, Miss Archer, it’s not my place to lecture. But I’ve seen a lot of Players die. Most of them young. From doing very stupid things. So, if you want to be in this business and live a long life, you've got to know your real enemies.”

  He picked up the carbuncle, then took her hand, turning her palm upward before placing the little creature in it.

  “This isn’t your enemy. Neither am I.”

  The archer’s face crumpled as she petted the carbuncle. “I-I’m sorry, sir. You too, little one. I really am.”

  “Krikri…” it replied, its eyes shone bright before it leapt and settled on Jin’s shoulder once again.

  “T-Thank you for saving my-“

  The ting-ting-ting that had been ringing in the background suddenly blared, drowning out her voice.

  <<< SYSTEM ALERT! SYSTEM ALERT! SYSTEM ALERT! >>>

  <<< MAJOR INFRACTION NOT REMOVED. BEGIN CLOSING THE PORTAL SEQUENCE! >>>

  The ground trembled. Violently.

  Jin and the archer lost their footing, forced to crawl as the earth split open beneath them.

  “Go! Go! Go! Time’s up!”

  “B-But we still have five minutes!”

  “Five minutes, five seconds – doesn’t matter!” Jin shoved her toward the portal. “Just go!”

  “Y-You go first! I-I-”

  “Shut up and move!” He spun her around and pushed her forward, his hand on her backside. She yelped – more in surprise than protest – as he stabilised her, his muscles straining against the quaking ground.

  The portal too was shrinking at an alarming pace, now barely able to fit a person.

  The archer hesitated at the threshold, then turned back with a coy, trembling smile on her lips. “I’m Kaoru. Kaoru Lisfeld. And you are?”

  “Jin.” He answered, his back toward her. “Now get out.”

  “W-Will you-?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes. Now go or I-!”

  The dragon roared.

  The sound wasn’t just loud. It was a shockwave that slammed into him like a freight train. Jin’s ears popped, then filled with blood. The world around him tilted. He was airborne for a heartbeat before he crashed into the dirt, hundreds of feet from the portal.

  Silence.

  Then the final alert:

  <<< THE RIFT IS NOW CLOSED. THE SYSTEM WILL NOW START THE DEBUGGING PROCESS >>>>

  Jin coughed, his lips tasting blood, dirt, and a couple of teeth. He pushed himself up, his vision spinning like he’d taken too many damn rollercoaster rides.

  The portal was gone.

  Worse, the dragon’s shadow loomed over the shattered sky, its wings spread wide, flapping ominously.

  He let out a grin as blood dripped from his chin down to his neck.

  Well. Shit.