[Congratulations on defeating the Reaper of the Abyss! A D-rank monster!]
[Since the monster was killed by three, results are being calculated. The most valuable participant will receive bonuses!]
1 – Carlos Lucas (No Title)
2 – Endel Astralius (No Title)
3 – Leina Sugaring (No Title)
[Each participant will receive 1000 points. The most valuable participant will receive an additional 2000 points, and one D-rank skill of choice.]
Everyone carefully read the messages, but their emotions turned out to be very different.
Carlos, recognized by the system as the most valuable, sat slumped in exhaustion.
The fire in his eyes was nearly gone, but curiosity still broke through the fatigue — what rewards would he actually receive?
The realization that he had been deemed the leader in this battle even made him grin crookedly, though through sheer force of will.
Leina, however, was on the other end of the list.
The system labeled her as the least useful, and the thought itself lodged inside her chest like a thorn.
Should she rejoice that she was alive, or rage that she'd been belittled?
Her face remained impassive, but in that calm there was something unsettling.
The guys, exchanging glances, almost simultaneously shuddered: each knew better than to remind Leina of what the system had decided.
It wasn't for them to judge who was worth more. That decision came from a cold, alien mechanism.
Still, tension hung in the air.
Neither dared to ask her a question or risk a careless word.
"Don't wake the beast, my boy," Third muttered nervously, remembering all too well what Leina was like in anger.
As for Endel, he had already calmed from the rush of adrenaline. Leaning back against the corridor wall, he began to study the system windows with quiet focus.
A new tab had appeared — Points, with a short, dry description.
[Points: 2000]
Description: Primary currency of the system.
"…"
Endel only exhaled heavily.
As usual, the system didn't bother explaining anything extra. Its minimalism bordered on mockery.
He was about to close the window when his eyes caught on the numbers.
An extra thousand.
His brows furrowed.
Almost at the same moment, Third, noticing the status, froze and slowly ran his finger along his chin.
"Another error… like in the first two regressions?.." he muttered.
"I don't know," Endel cut him off. "But we'll have to check. Just not now."
They both fell silent.
The silence that followed was unpleasant, sticky — as if the system itself were watching them.
He glanced at his friends: Carlos frowned, carefully reading through something, while Leina leaned against the wall, eyes closed, lost in thought.
"She's angry," Third observed.
— We need to move to the sixth floor. Too much noise here. Better get out as soon as possible, — Endel said to his friends, looking around the ruined corridor.
Dents everywhere, streaks of blood, corpses of those rabbits and the Abyss Reaper.
— And now this stench will start spreading, — Leina finished.
The others looked at the carnage with disgust, but nodded in agreement.
Leina helped Carlos to his feet.
He had already deactivated his Arcana; the brown-silver armor faded away, revealing Carlos himself — covered in scratches and bruises.
Still worn down and utterly drained.
Every movement cost him, though not as badly as before.
Leina gently brushed his back, aware that he had suffered deliberately, holding the monster at bay so it couldn't reach them.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the sixth floor.
This floor was designed entirely for recovery and rest after training. It had only one large room.
Soft sofas and chairs, arranged in small clusters, seemed to beckon weary fighters to sit.
Low tables held bottles of water and sports drinks, with neatly folded towels beside them.
In one corner lay yoga mats, balance balls, and dumbbells — everything one might need to stretch muscles and release tension.
The floor gave a slight spring underfoot, the soft covering adding a sense of comfort and safety.
Seeing this floor, Leina and Carlos exchanged glances, then looked almost in unison at Endel.
Strange… to see all this when outside the apocalypse still raged.
Their eyes were too clear for him to pretend not to understand the question.
He turned his gaze away.
He didn't know what to say.
He knew perfectly well: out of the two floors meant for recovery, he had chosen the fifth — cramped, unsafe, uncomfortable.
And the sixth, clearly designed for rest, he had simply ignored.
The most intact of them all.
"…Why did we choose it?" Third whispered thoughtfully in the back of his mind.
Endel found no answer. He only shrugged as if to say: I don't know.
That answer clearly didn't satisfy either Leina or Carlos.
Irritation flickered in their eyes, but they let it go.
Too tired to dig into someone else's motives.
At last, each sank into the sofa they liked best.
There was no light in the building, just as in the entire city.
Endel recalled that in his house, electricity had held — thanks to an old panel generator.
He closed the curtains tightly, blocking out the dead streets, and shoved a cabinet against the door.
It gave them an illusion of coziness and safety.
If only for a while.
Silence wrapped the room.
Carlos all but melted across a sofa, not caring about appearances, while Leina took a chair, arms folded.
They looked like people who, for the first time in a long time, allowed themselves to relax.
But the memory of the recent fight wouldn't let go.
Each of them relived the moment the Abyss Reaper could have killed them — and only miracle, resolve, or sheer luck had held them on the brink.
A chill settled in their chests: the world had changed for good, and there was no way back.
The silence thickened, heavy and stifling.
It pressed on their ears, an unspoken collective fear.
Endel, noticing it, forced himself to speak first:
— Did you also get the [Points] window?
Carlos smirked from his sprawled position, one leg crossed over the other.
— Yeah. A whole three thousand.
— One thousand, — Leina said calmly.
Endel fell quiet at the exact numbers. It confirmed there was no error: they'd all received their rightful rewards.
And yet… where did his extra thousand come from?
He didn't understand — for now, it remained a mystery.
He chose not to focus on it. Not yet.
"Maybe…" Third grumbled, displeased with Endel's habit of postponing questions, though he understood why.
— What does the description say? — Endel asked.
They gave him a strange look, as if wondering why he'd ask instead of just reading it himself.
But Leina decided not to nitpick and read aloud:
[Points]
Description: This is not just the system's currency — it is power itself, capable of changing the course of events, opening new possibilities, and turning dreams into reality. You can never have too many, and every point spent demands wisdom. Use them wisely, for they open the path to strength, knowledge, and victory.
Endel fell silent, his suspicions about the system confirmed.
"It doesn't like us. That much is clear. It doesn't even give us full information," Third muttered with bitter disapproval.
Endel frowned, trying to understand: why? What had they done wrong?
No answer.
He sat with arms folded, silent as well.
He knew — compared to this mighty system, he was nothing.
It decided who got knowledge and who got scraps. No feat or sacrifice could change its rigid balance.
Only a long, quiet sigh escaped his chest.
But inside, beneath fatigue and disappointment, a small flame stirred.
It burned brighter than before.
He would find answers. He would unravel the secrets the system was hiding.
As he sank deeper into these thoughts, trying to mold his unease into strength, Carlos suddenly broke the silence.
His voice carried a tired but playful edge, cutting through the stillness where doubts and fears lingered.
— I've decided.
Leina and Endel looked at him, silently asking what he meant.
He smiled.
— I finally chose the skill that suits me.
And then they realized what he meant. They had forgotten: the most valuable participant was awarded an extra prize.
Without waiting for their questions, he simply raised his hand — the wounds on it were already closing, ever so slightly.
Not much, but if it continued like this for several hours, he'd be good as new.
The wounds themselves were small — but the effect startled them. Especially Leina.
She asked what skill he had picked.
— It's [Regeneration, D-rank], — he replied, and immediately began reading the description.
Description: Allows accelerated healing of light wounds and gradual recovery of strength after exertion. Helps maintain combat readiness but does not make you invulnerable — do not expect it to counter heavy blows or serious injuries.
Leina raised a brow and snorted:
— Hah, now you're an Arcana in armor. Just without the tentacles. Still, good choice.
Carlos scoffed, but the pride was clear on his face at her rare praise.
Endel crossed his arms seriously:
— It's useful. Especially for someone who dives into the thick of battle. But don't start thinking you're immortal.
Carlos grinned and nodded — but then his expression twisted, turning pale.
The others noticed and asked anxiously.
— What is it, Carlos? — Leina asked, worried.
— The skill nearly drained all my mana. Now it says [Exhaustion], — he admitted weakly.
— I see. So your skill consumes mana? And yours is only F-rank, right? — Endel reasoned aloud.
— Yeah, — Carlos nodded.
— Then we've learned something: F-rank mana empties completely in just a few minutes when sustaining a D-rank skill, — Endel concluded.
Carlos wilted.
The joy of a new skill was quickly replaced by bitter realization: in battle, he couldn't rely on it.
To drain himself into exhaustion was to invite a migraine worse than any enemy — and then death would only be a matter of time.
— Enough. You two rest. I'll take the first watch, — Endel said firmly.
Neither Carlos nor Leina argued — fatigue had crushed their stubbornness.
They only nodded gratefully and collapsed onto the couches. Heavy breathing soon faded into sleep.
The first battle was behind them. But greater trials still lay ahead — and they would need far more strength.
Endel remained alone in silence.
For several minutes, he simply watched his sleeping comrades. Then he walked to the window.
He lifted the curtain slightly.
Outside, another kind of life stirred: monsters roamed the streets, clashed with one another, ripped bodies into shreds.
The world they knew was gone for good.
He wanted to turn away, but caught sight of his reflection.
Icy-blue eyes stared back at him — not the green ones he'd been born with, calm and familiar.
They had always been green. Now, noticing the change, he wasn't even surprised.
Strangeness was becoming the norm. And he was starting to accept it.
Black hair clung to his temples with sweat, still gleaming faintly.
And his face… A face he had never been proud of.
Though objectively beautiful, almost too much so — and for him, a burden.
"Oh, our face is magnificent. You just don't understand art," Third muttered into the quiet, as usual.
Endel didn't respond. As always, he ignored it.
He fixed his gaze on the reflection and whispered softly, almost to himself:
— I wonder… how long can I last?