The cold silence that followed their narrow escape from the Player-Killers' ambush felt heavier than any battle roar. Every breath Justin took seemed to carry the weight of unseen eyes, the promise of enemies lurking just beyond sight. The Blade Chamber's obsidian walls reflected their exhaustion—a prison carved from shadows and steel.
Matilda limped beside him, her usual grace marred by blood and fatigue. The Chain Widow coiled like a living thing, restless but restrained at her side. Her injured leg throbbed painfully, each step a reminder of how close death had come.
"We made it out alive," she whispered, voice brittle like shattered glass. "Barely."
Justin didn't answer. His mind was already racing, weaving through every possibility, every threat. The game was no longer just a contest against monsters or hostile players. It was a game of shadows and whispers—a place where one wrong move meant oblivion.
They weren't just survivors anymore. They were hunted. Marked. Targets with bounties on their heads.
And the game had turned personal.
The floor stretched before them—a labyrinth of narrow corridors, endless halls lined with ancient weapons. The place felt less like a battleground and more like a tomb. Every shadow seemed to twitch with menace. Every echo of footsteps could mean death.
Justin's fingers tightened around the Silent Crescent's hilt, feeling its dark pulse—a heartbeat syncing with his own. This blade was no mere weapon. It was a lifeline in this cruel world. A silent promise.
"We need a plan," Justin finally said, voice low but firm. His gaze swept the dim corridor ahead. "Safe spots, resupply, rest. We can't keep running blind."
Matilda nodded, wincing as she shifted her weight to spare her injured leg.
"We don't have much time. They'll come for us—fast."
The system chimed.
[New Quest Available]
Objective: Secure Safe Zone
Reward: 1,500 XP, Rare Healing Potions, Access to Merchant Node
Justin exhaled slowly, the edges of his lips twitching into a shadow of a smile.
"The game wants us to hold a territory. Safe zones aren't just for healing. They're strategic—resources, information, power."
Matilda's gaze darkened.
"Information is power… and betrayal."
Justin met her eyes.
"In this game, betrayal is the only constant."
Their footsteps echoed softly as they moved through the hall, every sense alert.
The corridors narrowed, twisting into a broken hall filled with shattered armor stands and weapon racks stripped bare by scavengers.
A faded banner hung limp from the ceiling:
Floor Two: The Blade Trial
Justin crouched behind a toppled pillar, senses prickling.
"Someone's been here."
"Ambush?" Matilda whispered, voice sharp.
A soft rustle answered.
From the shadows emerged a woman—black leather armor hugging a lithe, powerful frame. Her eyes were ice shards, cold and unyielding.
"Looking for sanctuary?" she asked, voice smooth but wary.
Justin's dagger moved in his hand—ready, but calm.
"Depends."
The woman's smile was thin and dangerous.
"Name's Elena. I run a small guild on this floor."
Matilda shifted uneasily.
"We just want to survive."
Elena's smile twisted into something sharper.
"Survival costs bloodcoins. And bloodcoins come with strings attached."
The unspoken threat hung heavy.
The tension was a blade poised to cut.
Elena's guild controlled the merchant nodes—the gateways to supplies, weapons, potions, and rare items essential for survival.
"We can offer protection," Elena said. "Join us, pay your dues, and maybe you live longer."
Justin's gut churned with distrust.
"Protection from what?"
Elena's gaze hardened.
"From them. The real hunters. PvP guilds sponsored from the real world. They don't play to win—they play to kill."
Matilda's eyes flicked to Justin.
"This isn't just a game," she muttered. "It's a death trap rigged by puppet masters."
Justin weighed every word. He hated relying on others. Hated owing favors. But the cold truth was clear—this was no solo fight.
It was a bloody pack hunt.
Just then, the chamber's ancient doors creaked open.
A figure slipped inside—silent, deadly, cloaked in shadows.
Elena's eyes narrowed, lips parting in recognition.
"New blood."
Justin's heart thumped hard. The world never stopped moving. Never gave you time to breathe.
The figure stepped forward, peeling back a black mask.
It was Bruno Hookman—The Mad Shooter.
Bruno's grin was crooked, wild, and unapologetic.
"Thought I'd find you here," he said, holstering twin pistols that gleamed cold in the dim light.
Relief surged in Justin, tempered by caution.
"Hookman. What's your play?"
Bruno shrugged, eyes gleaming with mischief and calculation.
"Looking for allies. The solo act doesn't pay here—too many knives in the dark."
Matilda exhaled, tension easing.
Justin nodded slowly.
"Alright. But no surprises."
Bruno's grin widened.
"You got a deal."
The uneasy alliance forged, they settled into the safe zone—an ancient chamber lined with glowing merchant nodes.
Rows of weapons, potions, armor, and strange artifacts shimmered softly, their prices measured in bloodcoins—the harsh currency of Floor Two.
Justin counted their coins, the weight of scarcity pressing down.
Every purchase was a gamble. Every decision, a risk.
Late into the shadowed hours, Justin sat sharpening the Silent Crescent. The blade gleamed faintly, alive with dark energy.
Matilda cleaned her chain dagger, the pain in her leg a constant reminder.
Bruno paced restlessly, bullets clicking rhythmically in his holsters.
The silence was thick—filled with unspoken fears, regrets, and plans.
Suddenly, the system's calm voice shattered the quiet.
[Alert]
Incoming message from unknown source.
Priority: High.
Encrypted.
Justin frowned, accepting the message.
The screen flickered, revealing a grim figure, face obscured by shadows.
"Justin Reyners, aka The Lethal Assassin. You've drawn attention you can't handle."
"Withdraw now, or face annihilation."
Then the screen went black.
Matilda's eyes burned with fierce light.
"They know exactly where we are."
Bruno's grin vanished, replaced by a hard edge.
"This just got worse."
Justin rose, voice steady but cold as steel.
"Then we prepare. No more running."
The game was no longer just survival.
It was war.
A brutal war for bloodcoins, trust, and betrayal.
And Justin?
He wasn't playing to win.
He was playing to live.
But living in Ascension Protocol meant one thing:
Nothing was ever as it seemed.
And every shadow hid a knife.
(To Be Continued ....)