[Yes]
I made my choice, and the interface shifted instantly.
[Exchange in progress...]
[It is advised that the user find an isolated place for the next hour, as the process will cause extreme pain.]
[You have one minute to locate an isolated area before the process begins.]
So it's true. That bastard really was trying to get me killed.
But how? He only asked for my book. We barely spoke, and I never gave him a real chance to do anything else. The interaction had been brief, transactional. So when did he—
Tsk.
Enough. I needed to focus.
I scanned my surroundings, pulse quickening. The rooftop was my best bet for isolation. I headed toward the elevator, footsteps echoing off the empty corridor walls as I rounded the corner and jabbed the metallic button. The quiet hum of machinery filled the silence, and the doors parted with a soft chime.
The moment should have been unremarkable.
It wasn't.
"Lyra?"
I cursed silently. Of all people, it had to be her.
Lyra. The crazy elven princess.
She stood in the elevator like she'd been waiting for precisely this moment, her green hair cascading in waves that caught the fluorescent light like emerald silk. Her eyes—those unsettling gemstone eyes—locked onto mine with the kind of attention that made your survival instincts scream. Even in the standard school uniform, a crisp white shirt and pleated skirt, she radiated something dangerous. The fabric clung to her slender waist and draped across her frame in a way that seemed almost deliberate, like even her clothing knew she was nobility.
Her full lips parted, not quite a smile.
"How do you know my name?" Her voice was low, sultry even, but carried an edge sharp enough to cut.
Crap.
My mind raced. HOW do I talk my way out of this?
"Uh, about that..." I rubbed the back of my neck, scrambling for any excuse that wouldn't get me killed. But my thoughts were in overdrive and came up empty. This was bad. This was VERY bad.
According to the game's storyline, she doesn't even go by "Lyra" at this point. No one knows she's an elven princess yet—that reveal comes later, along with all the chaos it brings. One wrong word here, one slip that reveals I know too much, and I'm done.
"I asked a question." She stepped forward, moving to exit the elevator. Her tone had shifted from curiosity to command, and I could see the calculation behind her eyes.
Tsk. Screw this.
Without thinking—without weighing consequences or considering alternatives—I did the one thing no one would expect.
THWACK.
My fist connected with her face.
The impact sent a jolt up my arm, and her head snapped back. For a split second, her expression was pure shock, eyes wide and unfocused as she stumbled backward into the elevator.
"Ah!" She gasped, hand flying to her nose.
Before she could recover, before she could process what had just happened, the elevator doors slid shut with a definitive thunk, trapping her inside.
"Tsk." I was already moving, turning on my heel and breaking into a sprint. Maybe that wasn't necessary. Maybe I could have talked my way out. But if she'd stepped out of that elevator, things would have spiraled out of control fast. She was far more powerful than I was—fighting her for real would have been pointless. Running? Just as futile. She's faster, more experienced, and there's no way I could outrun an elf in open ground.
More importantly, Lyra was UNPREDICTABLE. If she suspected I knew things I shouldn't, if she'd had even thirty more seconds to question me, I would have been finished.
DING.
[Time left: 06:34]
"Shit!"
I swore and bolted toward the stairs, my footfalls thundering in the empty corridor. This part of the school was deserted, thank god. Everyone was in the cafeteria right now, which meant no witnesses. That punch? It was my only chance to buy enough time to close those elevator doors before she could react. If I'd tried that in a crowded hallway, her fanboys would have swarmed me like piranhas. They'd have beaten me senseless, or worse—handed me over to HER for punishment.
At least now I had a few precious moments to escape.
I took the stairs two at a time, legs burning, lungs screaming for air as the seconds bled away. Whatever this "exchange" was going to do to me, I had a feeling the system had SERIOUSLY undersold the pain factor.
But even as I ran, my thoughts circled back to Lyra.
What was she doing in that elevator? It didn't lead to the cafeteria or any of the common areas. The route made no sense for someone heading to lunch. She's not the type you just "run into" by accident—everything about Lyra is calculated, purposeful. Something was off, but I didn't have the luxury of puzzling it out.
Please be open, please be open.
I reached the rooftop door and grabbed the handle.
BAM.
It swung open with a loud groan of rusty hinges.
"Thank god." I stumbled onto the rooftop, the cool wind hitting my face. The sky stretched above me, gray and indifferent. I didn't have time to appreciate the open space or catch my breath.
[Time left: 00:04]
[Time left: 00:03]
My heart hammered against my ribs.
[Time left: 00:02]
I braced myself, dropping to my knees.
[Time left: 00:01]
[Time left: 00:00]
[Initiating Affinity insertion.]
And then, the pain hit.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it, raw and animal. I collapsed onto the concrete, body convulsing as fire erupted in every cell. It wasn't just pain—it was WRONGNESS, like my entire being was rejecting something foreign being jammed into its core. My bones felt like they were splintering from the inside out. My blood boiled in my veins. My muscles seized and twisted, tendons pulled taut until I was sure they'd snap.
It felt like my soul was being ripped apart and sewn back together—over and over and OVER—in the most agonizing way imaginable.
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe properly. Couldn't do anything except exist in that moment of pure, unfiltered suffering.
The system hadn't been exaggerating.
It had been MERCIFUL in its description.