"Defeat Blake," Riven muttered, rereading the mission details imprinted in his mind. He now knew the target's full name. "Seriously?"
He winced as the sun's intensity seemed to crank up another notch.
"Oh, right." Riven snapped out of his thoughts. He needed shelter—fast.
He turned down the lane and spotted a large brick building: the library.
"Okay. That seems like a good place to stay for a while... until sundown," he said to himself, heading toward it.
From the inside, it looked like any normal library, except for the AI helpers—robots tending to visitors' needs.
As Riven stepped inside, his eyes wandered. An AI assistant approached him.
"You'll need to store your grocery items before entering, sir," the robot said politely. "I can hold them for you."
"Um... okay," Riven replied, handing over the bag. The robot rolled away.
Riven walked down an aisle, searching for a place called My Space—a private reading zone. He wasn't here to read, though. He needed time to think. About the quest. His new powers. And how to join a team before midnight.
At the end of the aisle, he found a wall that looked like a dead end. Without hesitation, Riven walked through it.
Inside was a small private room: a chair, a pad-embedded desk, a few books, and a soft light source. He sat down, took the mysterious deck of cards from his pocket, and spread them on the desk.
He sighed.
Defeat Blake Armin. That was the quest. For a moment, Riven felt the urge to fight the jerk immediately—but he knew better. He'd seen Blake during the test—especially the way he handled those mutant baboons. Super strength, maybe some durability too.
Blake wasn't just strong—he was likely dangerous. Charging in without a plan would be dum.
Riven stroked his chin. He understood the basics of some cards, but he'd never used them in actual combat. And with so few of them, he couldn't afford to waste any on practice.
He wished the mysterious old man had told him more—anything. His little info-system offered no help either.
He considered researching his abilities using the pad on the desk. But then paused. What if no one else had these powers? What if they weren't recorded at all?
Curious, Riven accessed the AI and described his abilities, hoping to find someone with similar traits.
No records found.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Maybe he was the first. That only made things worse. If his abilities were truly unique—and valuable—others might hunt him down just to steal them. Another layer of danger added to an already impossible quest.
He sighed again.
His powers came with more curses than blessings. On top of that, there was the team issue. After his embarrassing performance during the test, who would want him?
"Why did it have to be in teams?" Riven frowned.
If no one chose him by midnight, he'd have to go home—everything he endured would be for nothing. This contest was his only shot at changing his life.
Anger surged. He grabbed the cards and threw them across the room.
Then blinked in disbelief—they reappeared in his hand.
He threw them again. Same result.
He tore one in half. It reformed and slid back into the deck.
Leaning back, he stared at the cards, a new, indescribable feeling forming in his chest.
"I'm stuck with this, aren't I?" he whispered, his thumb brushing the edges of the deck. He felt... something. A faint, dark pulse.
A few minutes later, Riven exited the hidden room. At the entrance, the AI helper returned with his groceries.
"Thank you for entering Dwayne Library," it said, handing him the bag before rolling off.
Riven glanced outside—and paused. On the librarian's desk, leaning against the side, was a black umbrella.
Just then, the librarian, a woman in her forties with half-moon glasses, stepped out with a box of old items. She placed it beside the desk and noticed Riven.
"Hi," Riven greeted.
"Hey, how can I help you?" she replied, her tired expression softening.
"I was wondering if I could buy that umbrella. It's... kind of an emergency."
She leaned over and spotted it. "Oh, that? You can take it. It's been in the lost and found for ages." She smiled.
"Thank you," Riven said, taking it.
"No worries," she replied, returning to her work.
Riven stepped toward the entrance, holding the umbrella tightly. If it worked—if it blocked the sun—he could move around without weakening.
He closed his eyes. "Here goes nothing."
He stepped into the sunlight.
Nothing happened.
No weakness. No draining alert.
Riven opened his eyes and smiled. Relief flooded him—followed by a flicker of hope.
"Maybe I can live with these cursed abilities," he said quietly.
Just then, he noticed someone jogging down the lane. A girl with red hair—and a watch like his.
But he didn't remember seeing her during the test.