"You fucking fucktard old man!"
Rory erupted, his face contorted with rage as he surged forward, fists clenched and eyes burning.
Subaru was immediately on his feet, stepping in front of the old man seated cross-legged on the ground.
"Out of my way, you fucking albino! Move!"
Rory's voice shook the air, venom laced in every word. The sheer hostility in his tone made everyone tense. Subaru held firm, arms stretched out in defence. The tension snapped tighter when the aide, previously seated quietly to the side, rose and moved in as well. Despite his smaller frame, his presence felt heavier, more grounded.
"Hero, I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused," Tullus said calmly, not rising from his spot. His voice was composed, unaffected, as if Rory's outburst hadn't even registered.
Nathan observed with a squint. Tullus' unflinching demeanour had to be rooted in something more than ignorance, perhaps trust in the aide's ability to restrain Rory. And indeed, when the aide stepped between them, Rory came to a hard stop. No matter how he struggled, he couldn't push past the invisible line the aide upheld.
"Inconvenience?! I'll show you inconvenience! Just let me get my hands on you, you crypt keeper!"
Rory thrashed and shouted, his fury relentless. But the aide didn't strike or speak. He simply stood firm, holding Rory at bay through sheer presence alone.
"Why the hell is no one doing anything?! Did none of you receive the same quest notification I did?!"
Rory's voice pierced the room, turning heads.
Subaru responded, steady but strained. "You're not making any sense. Why are you so worked up all of a sudden?"
"Worked up?!" Rory barked. "Do any of you even know what the quest rank means?!"
In Origin Expanse, the world's guiding voice, the Voice of Origin occasionally bestowed quests upon the Awakened. Rare and monumental, these quests were categorized by threat level:
Catastrophe: The highest threat, a world-ending event.
Disaster: Continental-level devastation.
Hazardous: National-level danger.
Calamity: City-wide annihilation.
Terror: A threat to an entire town.
Predator: A village-level threat.
Beta: A danger to individuals or small groups.
.
These rankings weren't abstract, they were real, documented in history, and often correlated with high mortality rates. And the quest they'd just received?
"It's a fucking Calamity-level quest!" Rory bellowed. "This walking fossil handed us a death sentence! We're going to die! All of us!"
He turned again to Tullus, yelling with renewed fury, veins bulging at his neck. Panic began to ripple subtly through the group. Nathan could see it, traces of fear that no one wanted to voice but couldn't suppress.
Subaru, the dependable family man showed the most concern. Nathan didn't blame him. The thought of leaving behind a spouse, children, or any loved ones was enough to unman the strongest person. Subaru clenched his fists, jaw tight. Fear was etched into every wrinkle of his expression.
Marvelous, the elderly woman of the group, remained relatively calm. Perhaps it was age, perhaps perspective. She had lived most of her life, had the least to lose or so logic might suggest.
Then there was the girl. Nathan couldn't read her clearly. Her face held a blank mask, an enigma, cool, collected. She wasn't boastful nor meek. She felt... balanced. Like the perfect bowl of soup seasoned just enough to leave you guessing.
Nathan finally spoke, stepping in not with force, but with clarity. "Let's assume Tullus is to blame, as you claim. Even then, didn't we give him the chance to speak? We allowed this, knowingly or not."
But even as he said it, Nathan doubted things would've played out differently. The Origin Expanse had its design. This was the tutorial phase, the test to determine their worthiness. Whether or not Tullus had spoken, whether or not they had listened, this trial would have come one way or another.
"Don't spew your crap at me, kid! This old man put us all in danger, and you're telling me to be okay with that?!"
Nathan didn't flinch. He had expected the pushback. Rory was hot-headed, impulsive, a boiling pot ready to tip. Rationality wouldn't appeal to him, not now.
"So what exactly will your shouting solve?" Nathan asked plainly. "You're not getting through to the aide. You're not getting to Tullus. All you're doing is wasting energy."
Rory grunted, grinding his teeth, but stayed where he was, restrained by invisible weight.
Nathan continued, calm and firm. "Listen. I get it. I really do. But the quest is already issued. Unless you know how to reverse a World Quest, we need to start thinking ahead, strategizing not panicking, not screaming. We need to survive."
The group quieted.
Nathan's voice carried more than reason, it carried the burden of someone already beginning to lead.
And what of Nathan himself?
To outsiders, he appeared fearless. Unshaken. A natural leader rising amidst the chaos.
But deep inside, Nathan was far from composed.
He was a basement-dwelling recluse, a shut-in of impressive proportions. And now, tossed into a world where real death hung overhead, even he couldn't pretend not to feel it.
Was he scared?
Terrified.
So much so that he questioned if he had any courage left. Every second felt like standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff, heart thudding in his throat.
And yet, even through the dread, Nathan stood tall, spoke clearly, and did what no one else had managed to do: bring order.
Maybe he didn't feel brave.
But right now, he was becoming it.