As Dex stumbles through the underbrush, his mind torn between survival and the self-loathing that comes with it, he freezes at the sight of a man writhing in a bear trap. The trap's metal teeth bite deep into the stranger's ankle—impossible technology in this primitive realm. Dex's fingers twitch toward his knife, then retreat. Help the man? Alert Michael? Do nothing? Each choice feels wrong. From his hiding place, Dex watches as figures emerge from the trees. "Told ya it was invisible," one says, gesturing at the trap. "Saw this item spawn myself." The word 'item' echoes in Dex's mind as his conscience screams at him to intervene. But before he can move, before he can choose, the stranger's scream pierces the air. The newcomers' blades rise and fall, and Dex's inaction becomes its own decision.
Dex's heart slammed against his ribs. Saving these men would gain him nothing but a target on his back, yet something primal inside him rebelled. "Last time I play hero," he snarled under his breath, then bellowed, "THE PET IS COMING!" The men's heads snapped up, eyes narrowing with suspicion in the half-light. Then—as if the Creator Himself had intervened—an unholy shriek tore through the forest. The men bolted, terror overriding doubt. Dex lunged forward, ripping cloth from his shirt with blood-slick fingers. The stranger's leg wasn't just mangled—it was pulverized, bone fragments gleaming white through shredded meat. The makeshift bandage soaked through instantly. "My cloak," the man rasped, face gray with shock. "Injection. Now."
Dex's hands trembled as he searched the crippled man's coat. A strange syringe gleamed inside—should he use it? What if it killed the man instead? Hesitating, heart pounding, he finally plunged it into the intact portion of the leg. The wound sealed instantly, making Dex's stomach get a feel of both relief and dread. The crippled man's eyes narrowed. "Nearly died for bread. Thanks for saving me, stranger. You're either rich or familiar with 'items'—didn't steal it or scream when you saw it." Dex's mind raced. Trust him? Lie? "Been here three years," he ventured, immediately regretting the words. The man laughed coldly. "Felix Harrison. Nobody survives lower sector past one year except the king. You arrived today, maybe yesterday." Dex swallowed hard. "You'd question your savior's honesty?"
Felix leaned forward, his eyes glinting with dangerous promise. "Ask me anything you want—I swear on my bloodline to answer with absolute truth." Dex's pulse quickened as he fired his first question: "Why can't we just walk through the forest to escape this sector?" Felix's laugh cut like a blade. "Interesting first choice. It's the barrier—invisible but lethal. Lower sectors are prison-countries, the middle sector a hellscape vast as a world, and the upper?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "No one returns from there. Ever." He bared his teeth. "Second question?" Dex's eyes narrowed. "You're Shadows, aren't you? Angels can barely obtain items, and that psychopath wouldn't give something so precious to just anyone and am not sure about third faction , but u got information about first sector which even 2nd faction so I broke it down " Felix's face froze in shock before twisting into a predatory smile. "Yes," he answered. "And trust me, I'm deadlier with one leg than most are with two." The attempted joke made Dex's skin crawl. He considered asking about Michael's terrifying power but realized this crippled man—dangerous as he might be—was ultimately useless to him now. For his third question, he decided to—
"How can I obtain a power?" Dex demanded. Felix's eyes widened to saucers. "You SAW someone use power in the lower sector?!" he hissed, grabbing Dex's collar. "Listen to me—that was the king. ONLY the king. Getting a power syringe down here? One in ten MILLION. And surviving the injection? You'd have better odds being struck by lightning SEVEN TIMES IN A ROW!" Felix's knuckles whitened. "The king gets syringes guaranteed—100% CERTAIN." Dex shoved Felix's hand away. "Who IS this 'king'? Is Michael really in charge? Is there a queen?" Felix's face darkened. "One damn question at a time! Every sector has a king who collects rewards and intel daily. Michael rules here—a MONSTER who—" A bone-chilling CRACK echoed nearby. Felix yanked Dex behind a wall, breath ragged. "They're back for us!" They froze, hearts thundering until silence returned. When they peered out, a glowing door had materialized from nothing. "A TRIAL DOOR!" Felix screamed, lunging forward before crashing face-first into the dirt. "DAMMIT!" he snarled, "Forgot about my leg!"
Dex's lips curled into a smirk. "Quite funny, eh? Watching a cripple squirm like a worm?" Felix spat. "Get me up before we're both dead meat!" Dex hauled him upright, but Felix's curse had barely left his lips when footsteps thundered toward them. A hulking figure materialized at the door. "A trial door?!" The stranger's eyes gleamed with predatory hunger. "My lucky day! Just one pathetic cripple and a scrawny kid guarding it." The words hung in the air for only a heartbeat before Felix's gun roared to life, blasting a crimson hole through the man's chest. The stranger crumpled like a puppet with cut strings. Dex recoiled, hand flying to his own weapon. "You—" Felix's eyes hardened. "Kill me later if you've got the balls. We move NOW." They plunged through the doorway into a blinding white chamber where two wooden figures stood motionless as sentinels. Felix hurled his gun across the room in a desperate bid to win Dex's trust—and froze when one wooden figure mirrored his exact motion. "They're copying us," he hissed, face draining of color. "We have to destroy them ,I am pretty sure—" Dex scanned the room, mind racing. "Wait, that's not—" His words died as Felix swung his support stick toward wooden figure's head with murderous force.