Tony didn't sleep that night. How could he? Every time he closed his eyes, the numbers burned inside his vision like a scar he couldn't blink away.
[71:10:24]
Time was dripping away, second by second, like a countdown to his own funeral.
He sat at his kitchen table, the lights dimmed, a cup of untouched coffee cooling in front of him. His hands tapped restlessly against the ceramic, and his mind looped the same questions over and over.
Why him? Why now? What did "trial" even mean?
His gaze flicked to the corner of his vision again, the blue digits ticking away. They didn't stop. They didn't slow. He tried rubbing his eyes until they stung, but when he opened them, the numbers were still there.
"This isn't real," he whispered for the hundredth time, but his voice had lost conviction.
The voice from the system hadn't returned, but Tony felt its presence, like something watching from just behind his shoulder. And when he thought about the shadows he'd seen moving across the rooftops, a chill threaded down his spine.
By morning, Tony decided he couldn't sit still anymore. He needed answers.
He forced himself into his work clothes, though his hands shook as he buttoned his shirt. The walk to the office was the same as always—gray sidewalks, tired commuters, the faint reek of exhaust fumes and fried street food in the air—but Tony felt different. Every face in the crowd looked sharper, every noise rang louder.
And then there was the other thing.
The shadows.
They weren't as blatant as last night, but now and then, from the corner of his eye, he swore he saw shapes where there shouldn't be. A dog-sized blot crouching at the base of a lamppost. A long arm unfurling from beneath a park bench. A figure watching him from a second-story window.
Whenever he turned his head, they vanished.
By the time he reached the office building, sweat clung to the back of his neck.
Work was a blur. He could barely focus on the reports stacked on his desk, and the system's numbers pulsed endlessly in his vision. His coworkers moved around him like ghosts, their voices muffled, distant.
No one noticed him, of course. No one ever did.
Maybe that was a blessing now.
But when the clock struck six and the office emptied out, Tony lingered, staring out the window at the city. The shadows had grown bolder again. They seemed to thicken where the light was weakest, curling along alleyways and side streets.
The words from the system echoed in his skull: "Trial begins at midnight. Survive, or be erased."
On his way home, he took the long route, trying to keep to busy streets. But the moment he turned a corner near the small alley that cut behind the convenience store, something shifted.
The world dimmed.
The buzzing neon signs flickered out one by one. The street lamps overhead cracked and went dark. His footsteps echoed unnaturally loud against the pavement.
And then it appeared.
A figure stepped out of the alley. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Wearing a tattered hoodie that hung off him like a shroud. His face was hidden in shadow, but his hands… his hands were wrong. Too long. Fingers tapering to points, twitching like blades eager to strike.
The system's voice slammed into Tony's head.
[Trial 1 Initiated.]
Objective: Survive encounter.
Failure: Erasure.
Tony's stomach dropped. "You've got to be kidding me…"
The figure moved. Not a step, not a lunge. It glided, as if the space between them shrank on its own. Tony stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the curb.
"Wait, I don't even!"
His protest cut short as the creature's head tilted, revealing a grin too wide, teeth too sharp. Its eyes burned pale white, like the rooftop watchers from before.
Tony's body screamed at him to run, but his legs locked. He was frozen prey.
The system's voice returned, calm and cold.
[Hint: Tools of survival can be drawn from within.]
"What the hell does that mean?!" Tony shouted. His voice cracked, desperate.
The creature's claws scraped the pavement as it crouched low.
Tony did the only thing he could. He clenched his fists and swung wildly, punching at air, praying for a miracle.
And then… something answered.
His hand glowed.
Light burst across his knuckles, shaping itself into crude brass knuckles of pale-blue energy. The force of his swing cracked through the air like a whip. When it connected, it actually knocked the creature back.
Tony staggered, staring at his hand. "Holy shit…"
The creature snarled, regrouping, its grin even wider.
Tony's legs finally obeyed. He turned and ran.
The chase tore through the streets.
Tony's breath burned, lungs screaming, but adrenaline pushed him forward. The monster's claws slashed sparks against walls as it bounded after him, fast, relentless. Every time Tony looked back, it was closer.
"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered between gasps.
The system chimed in his ear.
[Adrenal Boost activated.]
Tony's body surged with unnatural strength. His legs pumped harder, faster than they ever had in his life, carrying him across cracked sidewalks like a sprinter on fire. But even then, the monster was on him, its claws swiping close enough to rip fabric from his sleeve.
He stumbled into a dead-end alley. His heart sank.
The creature slowed, savoring the trap. Its claws clicked against brick as it advanced, eyes glowing brighter.
Tony pressed back against the wall, panic bubbling into a scream. "Somebody help!"
No one came.
The system's voice whispered again.
[Survive. Fight. Adapt.]
The glow returned to his fists, brighter this time, spreading up his forearms like veins of fire. Energy surged through him, raw and violent.
Tony clenched his teeth. "Alright… let's do this."
When the monster lunged, Tony didn't run. He swung with everything he had.