James glanced at Collins, his brows furrowed in suspicion. His friend wore an expression of barely contained excitement, the kind that James had seen countless times. He knew Collins too well. That look only came when Collins discovered something that tickled his obsession: either a new novel, a bizarre scientific theory, or a book about strange elements of the world.
But this wasn't the library or their campus dorm. This was the apocalypse. Monsters were tearing through streets, people were dying, and somehow Collins looked like a kid who had just found candy.
James narrowed his eyes. What the hell is making him smile in a hellscape like this?
"Orúla, You're finally awake," Collins said, his tone almost casual.
James tilted his head. "Orúla? Who the hell is that supposed to be?"
Collins smirked, as if waiting for the question. "That's the name I gave to my system." He tapped his chest slightly, like it was something sacred. "Personalized. Chose it myself."
James blinked. "You named your cheat? What are you, some anime protagonist?"
Collins ignored the jab and explained the basics of Orúla. The trust between the two of them had been forged long before the apocalypse, so he didn't hesitate to reveal what others might kill to keep secret.
By the time Collins finished, James's mouth hung open. His mind scrambled to process it. He might not fully grasp all the attributes, but one thing was clear, Collins's power wasn't just remarkable. It was terrifying. With that kind of system, Collins wasn't just another survivor. He was… something more.
James forced a laugh, though the edges of envy pricked at his chest. "Damn. So you're basically a little god walking around, huh?"
Collins raised an eyebrow but didn't answer. He could see James's jealousy, but James wasn't the kind to let it rot into betrayal.
Instead, James grinned and leaned in with exaggerated admiration. "Big Brother Collins, my golden spoon! We're saved!"
Collins shoved him away. "Shuu. Who's your Big Brother? And don't ever call me a spoon again."
James chuckled nervously, scratching his head. Even in the apocalypse, teasing Collins was a coping mechanism.
"Back to the situation," Collins said, his voice hardening. "The streets are swarming with mutated beasts and monsters. If we walk out blindly, we're dead in minutes."
«HOST CAN USE 3D PROJECTION TO PROJECT THE MAP OF AKURE AND LOOK FOR A SAFE ROUTE WITH JAMES.»
Orúla's calm, mechanical voice echoed in Collins's head.
Collins's eyes lit up. "That's… perfect." He looked up. "Akure map, 3D projection."
The air in the room shimmered before bursting into a wash of blue light. A massive holographic map unfolded above them, glowing and rotating as though the room itself had been swallowed by a futuristic movie set.
James gasped. "Holy shit…" He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing the floating roads and buildings. The sensation of light passing through his hand sent shivers down his spine.
Thousands of red dots pulsed on the map, clustering in different areas like infestations. The red represented monsters. Certain places glowed so dense that the map looked like it was bleeding. A few blue dots shone faintly, scattered and weak in comparison.
"That's… people," Collins muttered. His throat tightened. The realization hit them like a blow to the chest. The once-bustling Akure was now mostly consumed by red.
James swallowed hard. "There used to be… hundreds of thousands living here."
"Now barely a fraction remain," Collins said quietly. His fists clenched. "If this continues, humans will be nothing but a forgotten chapter."
James's lips trembled before anger bubbled out. "Damn those gods! They're watching us like some entertainment show while we die!"
"Enough." Collins's tone was sharp, cold. "Rage won't keep us alive. Strategy and strength will. If we're going to fight back, we'll need strength. And to gain strength, we need to level up."
James opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped. Collins was right. If they only kept running, they'd eventually die weak and forgotten.
Collins pointed to a purple light on the map. "That's me. This green one is you. We're here, in Oda. See the few blue lights nearby? Survivors. If they're willing, we'll join forces. But…" His eyes hardened. "Only if they're worth the risk."
James sighed. "Of course you'd make it sound like we're assembling an Avengers squad."
Collins ignored him. "Look around us. Fewer red dots here. It's manageable. But we need weapons first."
The projection flickered out, plunging the room back into silence. Both split up, combing the house for anything usable.
The house was suffocatingly quiet. Dust coated the furniture. Picture frames still hung on the walls, a family smiling, frozen in time. A father, mother, a daughter with ribbons in her hair, a younger son clutching a toy car. Collins felt a chill run down his spine. They never came back. The apocalypse had stolen them away.
In the parents' bedroom, Collins lifted the bedframe, coughing as dust sprayed his face. His eyes caught a glint. A double-bladed machete. It was slightly rusted, but still sharp enough to cut. Perfect. He gripped it tightly.
Meanwhile, James rummaged through the kitchen like a raccoon on caffeine. By the time Collins returned, James had piled weapons and tools onto the parlor floor: kitchen knives, a frying pan heavy enough to break bones, a fire lighter, a spade, and even a 6 kg gas cylinder still full.
James grinned. "Look at this haul! Call me Weapon Master James!"
Collins nodded approvingly. "Good. We'll need all of it, Weapon Master James."
James had a satisfied smile on his face when Collins called him that.
The two gathered their makeshift arsenal. Instead of using the door, Collins pointed upward. They climbed through the ceiling and emerged onto the roof, the air outside thick with tension.
James whispered, "Now what?"
Collins's lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. "Watch and learn."
He dragged the gas cylinder close, pulled out a loose nail from the roof, and jammed it against the valve. Gas hissed violently, spewing into the air. The cylinder clanged as Collins hurled it into the street below.
James's eyes widened. "Uh… Collins? Are we just… littering?"
"Shut up and wait," Collins muttered.
The hissing drew attention like blood in shark-infested waters. Shadows stirred. One by one, twisted creatures and mutated beasts prowled into view, their glowing eyes drawn to the noise. Growls echoed, claws scraped against asphalt. The stench of rot and blood thickened.
James's heart raced. "Oh, hell no. This is suicide."
Collins's expression remained calm, but his grip on the fire lighter tightened. He pulled a rag from his pocket, ignited it, and held the burning cloth like a fuse.
The street below was now swarming. Dozens of beasts circled the leaking cylinder, snarling, confused by the noise.
"Perfect," Collins whispered. He tossed the burning cloth.
"GET DOWN!" he roared.
James hit the roof like a sack of potatoes, hands over his ears.
The burning rag touched the gas-filled air—
BOOOOOM!
The explosion split the world open. A shockwave blasted upward, shaking the roof beneath them. Fire surged outward, swallowing the beasts in a violent inferno. Screeches and howls were silenced mid-cry as bodies were torn apart, flames devouring flesh and bone.
Chunks of debris rained down. The night sky itself seemed to tremble.
James dared to lift his head, his jaw dropping at the carnage. "Holy mother of Michael Bay…"
Collins stood, eyes reflecting the burning inferno below. But his attention wasn't on the fire. It was on the glowing blue screens that flickered into existence before his eyes.
«+120 EXP»
«+180 EXP»
«LEVEL UP!»
«COSMIC STREAM UPDATED.»
His lips curled into a thin smile. "This is just the beginning."
James exhaled a shaky laugh. "Remind me never to piss you off, man."
Collins didn't answer. His mind was already racing ahead. They had leveled up, but this was only step one. If they were going to survive the gods' game, they'd need to get smarter, stronger, and darker.
And Collins? He was ready to walk that path.