James stood in the cube-shaped room, damp clothes sticking to his skin, the dream's warning echoing in his head. Hide your cursed power. The nine others around him shifted uneasily, their confused gazes lingering from when he'd called out for Astor. The girl with curly dark hair crossed her arms, her frown sharpening as she tried to puzzle him out. The lanky guy with the scarred cheek leaned against the wall, his cold eyes stayed locked on James almost sizing him up.
A sharp crackle of static broke the silence, and the air in the center of the cube shimmered. A figure appeared, floating above the floor, a formless clown radiating a sly, conniving smile. "Well, well, congratulations, you lucky victors," it said, voice dripping with amusement, like it was savoring a private joke. "You ten somehow survived the first trial. I am the Overseer. Welcome to the Domain, where we winners are sorted fro-"
"Why were we chosen for this?" a voice cut in, sharp and defiant. It was a bald headed man with broad shoulders. The room went silent, with everyone looking at him.
The Overseer's smile vanished, its body flickering in and out of existence. "Who said you could speak?!" it snapped. The air thickened, gravity spiking instantly. The man's knees buckled as he slammed into the ground, pinned by whatever oppressive magic the clown used.
Others froze, eyes wide. The scarred guy's smirk faltered and the curly haired girl's arms dropped to her side, tensing as if ready for a fight.
The clown hovered closer to the man, its voice softening but laced with menace. "You're here because the Domain wants you here. That's all you need to know, you brute. Do not interrupt me." The pressure eased and the man scrambled back towards the opposite wall.
"Now, where were we?" it said, as if nothing happened. "Oh, right. Let's keep this fun. Check your systems. Your classes have awakened. Announce them aloud. The Domain loves a good show."
Holy shit. What was that pressure? James's stomach twisted. And, the Domain? The way the Overseer said it, with that mocking lilt, made it sound like a trap. As soon as James started thinking about how to check the system, a screen flickered before him, blue text glowing in sharp, clinical lines:
System Initialized. Class Assignment Complete.
[Name]: James Cross
[Primary Class]: Oracle
[Secondary Class]: Healer (Innate)
[Oracle Challenge] - Nightmare Visions: Survive prophetic death creatures in nightly mental trials. Success yields Essence Shards. Failure risks death.
[Healer Challenge]: Innate class, No daily challenge.
[Class Upgrade]: Oracle(F) (0/10), Healer(E-) (0/50)
[Essence Mastery]: (F) (0/100)
[Inventory]: Oracle's Key(Divine)
Skills:
[Healer]: Mend (Restore minor wounds), Barrier (Shield allies), Soothe (Ease pain)
[Oracle]: Foresight (Glimpse future events), Shatterpoint (Disrupt critical moments)
He stared, pulse racing. Oracle. The word hit like a knife, the dream's silver-eyed warning flashing in his mind. Hide your cursed power. The mob's screams, their hatred for the "Seer," felt too real. He couldn't reveal Oracle, not with these strangers watching, not with Thorne's predatory stare boring into him. Healer was safer. He could work with that.
[Available Shards]: None
James swallowed, his mind spinning. I must be able to use shards to upgrade my classes. What are these nightmares? Oracle's daily nightmares sounded like a curse, but Healer offered a way to stay under the radar. He'd use it to survive, to find Astor who had trusted him. James hated letting others down.
"Who's up first?" the Overseer said, sounding like it was enjoying itself a bit too much.
The scarred guy stepped forward, smirking. "Thorne, Summoner." His voice was low, confident, and his eyes flicked around, sharp and challenging.
The curly haired girl went next, her voice steady. "Elara, Assassin."
Others followed, their voices a mix of confidence and hesitation. A short guy with a buzzcut called out, "Vanguard." A nervous girl with glasses stammered, "Alchemist." The broad-shouldered guy from before quietly murmured, "Berserker." Following this were shouts of Illusionist, Elementalist, Enigma, and Beast Master.
The Overseer's head tilted, a soft chuckle escaping. "Well, look at that. No problem classes in this batch. Oracle's a headache waiting to happen, and Necromancer?" It gave an exaggerated shiver, its voice mockingly dramatic. "Those guys are creeps."
James's throat tightened. The dream's warning screamed at him to stay quiet. When his turn came, he stood straighter, forcing his voice to stay even. "James, Healer."
The Overseer's gaze lingered on him, and snapped its fingers. A sudden gust of wind blasted James, nearly knocking him over. His clothes dried in an instant, the chill of the flood gone, but the force left him staggering. "There, all nice and dry," the Overseer said, laughing. "Don't say I never did anything for you."
"Alright, now that all classes are accounted for-"
It paused, as if lost in thought. "Interesting." Then its tone turned sly, almost teasing. "The next trial's coming, kids. And here's a little treat: the top four performers get a special prize. You can rescue an ally before you dive deeper into the Domain. Choose carefully who you save. The stakes? Oh, they're much bigger than you think."
James steadied himself, headache still throbbing. The Overseer's casual cruelty set his nerves on edge, but he forced himself to focus, his thoughts locking onto Astor. He had to be one of those top four. Astor was out there and James would find him. Determination burned in his chest as he resolved to get stronger.
"Good luck," the Overseer said, its voice dripping with a creepy grin. It clapped its hands, and the world lurched. James's vision blurred, the cube dissolving around him. When the dizziness cleared, he was alone in a tiny bedroom, its walls cracked and damp, a single cot in the corner. The air was stale, the faint hum of the system lingering like a ghost.
He sat on the cot, heart racing. The Domain, the classes, the Oracle's Key. It was all connected, a web he couldn't untangle. Astor's face flashed in his mind, that shaky grin after they'd survived the flood. James clenched his fists. He wasn't strong yet, but he'd get there. He'd face the nightmares, the trials, whatever this Domain threw at him. For Astor. The next trial was coming, and he'd be ready.