Peter's eyes snapped open, his brow furrowing. He had been expelled from the game.
The pounding on the door startled him, followed by the insistent ringing of the doorbell, echoing again and again.
He shot up from the bed. Beside him, Linda opened her eyes as well, confused by the commotion, and quickly got up to follow him.
From the next room, Sally peeked out, clearly unsettled.
Peter approached the door and looked through the peephole. His boss stood there, face hardened with worry. Peter didn't hesitate to open.
"Peter, you need to get out of here. Take your family and go, as far as you can. Your daughter is in danger… we all are."
The man's words, heavy with urgency, froze the air around them. Linda stiffened and hurried to embrace Sally, who trembled at what she had just heard.
"Jack, what's going on?" Peter asked, his tone serious.
"They've discarded us. I don't know what's going to happen, but they're coming here. You must leave now." Jack glanced at Sally, at her white hair that shone like a beacon. "Never stop moving. The trackers follow every signal. If you stay still, they'll find you."
And with that, he left in haste.
Peter stood frozen for a few seconds, his expression grim. His gaze fell on his daughter… on that hair that marked her, even if a few strands had already turned black. It didn't matter. She was still a target.
"Linda!" he called, shaking his wife to snap her into action.
She nodded quickly, leaving Sally for a moment and running to a room they used as storage. From there, she pulled out three dusty suitcases, fully packed and ready for years. It was obvious: they had always known that one day they might have to run.
Meanwhile, Peter rushed out of the house.
"Mom, where did Dad go?" Sally asked nervously.
"Don't worry, he went to get a carriage." Linda was already moving fast. She pushed aside a painting that hid a safe and entered the code. Inside were weapons of strange design, far too advanced to be human.
She then shoved a nightstand aside with surprising force; thanks to the strength she still carried from her Drunai avatar, she no longer needed help. Beneath the wooden floor was another, larger safe. She opened it and pulled out protective vests and emergency gear.
Leaning over Sally, she adjusted one of the vests to fit her, adding a helmet that looked custom-made.
"Mom… where did all this come from?" the girl asked, astonished.
"Your father bought it on the black market," Linda replied seriously as she strapped on her own vest.
Just then, a modified carriage screeched to a halt outside, moving far faster than any such vehicle should. Peter jumped down, received a vest and a weapon from Linda, and readied his rifle with trained precision.
"The computers!" Sally exclaimed, sprinting to her room and her parents'. She pressed the buttons that transformed the machines into compact transport cubes, then returned carrying them in her arms with effort.
Meanwhile, Peter and Linda filled bags with every mana flask they had stored—both those they had bought and those they had brought from Drunai.
Within minutes, the family was aboard the carriage, which roared to life. Peter placed ten high-quality flasks into the energy compartment—a massive amount—and the vehicle surged forward with a fierce hum, racing toward the outskirts.
Linda opened a hatch in the roof and lifted a pair of long-range binoculars. In the distance, several ships with magical technology patrolled the skies, like predators circling over prey.
"Are they coming?" Peter asked tensely.
"Yes… but they haven't noticed we're gone yet. We supposedly paid this month's tribute, so I don't know if they'll start tracking us immediately," Linda answered, her eyes never leaving the ships.
In the back seat, Sally watched with a worried expression.
"Where are we going?" she whispered.
Peter didn't answer right away. As a hunter, he knew all too well how the DNA trackers worked: once your identification was registered for the tributes, they could find you anywhere in the world. There was no eternal hiding place.
They would be found—it was only a matter of time. But he would fight with everything he had to protect his family.
"We don't know yet, sweetheart," Linda replied, softening the harsh truth.
"And… and what if we ask Miss Lua?" Sally suggested, her voice carrying a fragile hope.
Linda pressed her lips together. "It's unlikely she can help us here, darling."
"But maybe she has a plan…" the girl insisted, recalling all the stories Liora used to tell her about Lua.
Peter and Linda exchanged a look. Maybe letting Sally enter the game would calm her, even if it was just an illusion.
"You can try, dear. We'll be right here," Linda said at last.
Sally wasted no time. With clumsy urgency, she pulled out one of the computers and activated it, logging into the system as though her life depended on it.
But deep down, neither Peter nor Linda held much hope.
…
Meanwhile, in the academy city…
Bert and Sig rushed to the windows, alarmed by the ships approaching at full speed.
"Loli, Grandpa, we have to escape!" Bert shouted seriously as he ran to his room. He yanked open a backpack that Loli recognized instantly—the same one he had returned with from the mine, filled with mana flasks. He hurried back to the dining room and dumped the contents onto the table. Hundreds of flasks clattered noisily across the surface, until finally two dark gloves fell out as well, crisscrossed by glowing blue marks like veins.
Without hesitation, Bert slipped them on and connected a high-quality flask to each wrist.
Loli ran toward her grandfather's room, while Sig stared in surprise at the strange gloves.
"What are those?" she asked, confused.
"Did you really think miners still used pickaxes and shovels like in the old days?" Bert replied with a grim smile before turning back to the window.
At that moment, one of the ships stopped abruptly in front of their house, lowering its cannon without any warning. It fired.
A blue sphere of energy shot through the air, heading straight for them. Bert raised both hands and unleashed an azure beam from his palms. The flasks drained instantly, fueling the attack. The collision was brutal: an explosion tore through the sky, forcing the nearest ship to retreat and dodge the blast.
Another ship immediately closed in and fired mercilessly. Bert lifted his hands again and unleashed another beam.
"Loli!" he shouted urgently, desperate to buy time.
Sig ran to check on her, but froze at the doorway.
Loli stood motionless too, staring in disbelief.
Their grandfather was standing. Yes, standing. The empty wheelchair at his side looked like a cruel joke compared to what he was now. His body seemed younger, his wrinkles fewer, his muscles tense with impossible vitality. Beside him, a small earth golem handed him freshly made mana flasks, converted from beast cores. The old man drank one in a single gulp.
His eyes glowed a vivid blue, and more earth golems began forming around him, ready for battle.
"Have you forgotten what we obtained there?" the old man asked with solemn calm, looking at the two girls.
They reacted at once, as if remembering, and each grabbed a flask from the table and drank it down.
"We have to warn Uncle Joe!" Sig shouted, just as her body dissolved into black mist.
"I don't think that will be necessary…" Bert muttered, his gloves still glowing, his gaze fixed on the window.
Everyone gathered there and gasped in shock.
On the roof of Joe's house, a figure stood tall: Joe himself, his hair blazing with incandescent red. Flames burst from his mouth into the sky before he launched himself upward with a fiery thrust, throwing himself at a ship. The metallic enemy barely dodged, but a black arrow streaked through the air.
Dean appeared, his hair as dark as shadows and a cloak draped over him. With swift precision, he grabbed Joe by the clothes and hurled him toward the ship before drawing his shadow bow and firing at another. Where the arrow struck, Dean appeared instantly, as though the projectile itself had become a portal.
Bert adjusted the flasks on his gloves, attaching two more.
"Looks like they don't need mana flasks anymore…" he muttered, realizing the obvious. Their bodies were different. Joe's flaming hair and the shadows clinging to Dean's body weren't just abilities—they were signs of their evolutions.
"It must be from their evolution," Ganfall said calmly, tracing runes in the air and firing bursts of magic at the ships.
Suddenly, a slime appeared at the window.
"It's better if we move before civilians get hurt," came Edward's voice from within the creature. "Joe said we should take his carriage. My other slimes already warned the rest of the players: everyone should take carriages and head north." With that, the slime bounced away, message delivered.
"Let's go," Ganfall said, this time with a serious tone.
Above, in the sky, the two strongest men of the moment continued their fight. Fire and shadows clashed against magical steel. The ships, not being main models, yielded after just a few strikes. Joe and Dean brought them down one after another, dodging the incoming fire with deadly precision.
The battle had begun. And, for the first time in a long while, humans could truly defend themselves.