Kai crouches behind the barricade, eyes fixed on the treeline.
Mist drifts low across the clearing, curling between the sharpened logs and crude traps he's spent days constructing. The air feels heavier than usual — charged, waiting.
He knows what's coming.
[Day 11 – Beta Activation Begins]
The forest shimmers with static. Faint golden light ripples across the fog, expanding outward like a slow-moving wave. One by one, figures start appearing — silhouettes blinking into existence, gasping as their minds sync with the simulation.
Two hundred and forty-nine of them. The Beta Testers.
Some collapse instantly, disoriented. Others stumble to their feet, blinking at the unreal landscape. A few steady themselves with practiced calm — veterans, maybe, or just the ones too shocked to react.
Kai watches in silence from the elevated platform, his breath held.
He's seen this before — new players, fresh spawns — but this is different. The fear looks real.
Then the world freezes.
Every player halts mid-motion, as though time itself has paused.
A faint tone cuts through the fog — cold, mechanical.
A voice follows.
"Listen carefully," it says, echoing in the air and through their minds.
Kai stiffens. It's not Elara's voice. This one is deeper. Controlled. Almost amused.
On every interface, a line of text scrolls across their vision:
[SYSTEM BROADCAST – DIRECTOR'S MESSAGE]
"Those who enter the simulation unconscious or become knocked out are not dead.
Their bodies conserve energy and maintain vital functions through controlled electrical stimulation to the hypothalamus.
Survival is possible for up to forty-two days.
However… if you die in this game, you die in reality.
Escape is only possible through specific access points inside the simulation.
Good luck, Beta Testers."
The message fades.
For a second, there's nothing but silence. Then chaos erupts.
Screams split the air as panic takes hold. Some players drop their weapons and run blindly into the forest. Others freeze, muttering to themselves, trying to log out, to wake up — but there's no response. The interface refuses every command.
The realization hits fast: there's no exit.
Kai grips his hatchet tighter, whispering under his breath,
"...You sadistic bastard."
In the real world, Victor Hale watches from behind the dark glass of the control room, his reflection rippling over hundreds of data feeds. Rows of technicians sit tense, their eyes fixed on fluctuating vitals.
Victor folds his hands behind his back, eyes cold with fascination.
"Fear calibrates performance," he says quietly. "Let's see who adapts when it's no longer a game."
He nods once.
"Release the infected. All active nodes."
A technician hesitates. "Sir, that'll—"
"Do it."
In the forest, the ground shakes.
A sound rises from beyond the trees — a distant, layered growl building into a chorus of inhuman voices. The infected are moving. Fast.
Kai's eyes snap toward the treeline as the fog stirs violently.
Dozens of shapes break through the mist, sprinting, thrashing, drawn to the Beta pulse. The air fills with screams, gunfire, and chaos as the players scatter.
Kai moves quickly — checking traps, loading his rifle, shouting over the noise to a nearby player frozen in terror.
"Move! To the cabin — now!"
The man hesitates, then runs. Behind him, an infected crashes through the barricade, its face a blur of corrupted flesh and static lines, like code trying to hold shape.
Kai swings the hatchet — the creature falls, twitching, the air crackling faintly around it before it dissolves into fragments of golden light.
"…That wasn't normal."
He wipes blood from his cheek, scanning the forest.
(He's manipulating the spawn code. Watching how we react.)
Every instinct tells him this is no longer a test — it's a hunt.
In the control room, Victor watches Kai's feed with interest.
"Even under duress, he's coordinating movement. Reinforcing lines. He's an anomaly."
"Should we suppress his data line?" a technician asks.
Victor smiles faintly. "No. Let him run free. I want to see how far a human can go when the system bends around him."
He taps a command.
"Release Type-2 strain in Sector 9."
Back in the forest, a deeper sound rises — heavier, faster, unnatural.
Through the fog, the next wave emerges — larger, stronger, and stitched with visible lines of code beneath translucent flesh. Their eyes glow a faint amber.
Kai's pulse spikes. "...That's new."
The infected close in.
Gunfire bursts. Screams fade. The forest becomes a storm of panic, blood, and digital corruption.
Kai steadies his breathing, gripping his weapon. The fog feels alive — pulsing with code and intent. Somewhere beyond it, a man he's never met is watching every move, pulling every string.
And Kai, surrounded by chaos, makes a silent promise:
(If this is his game… then I'll break it.)
[Day 11 – Beta Activation Ongoing – 231 Participants Remaining]
The flood has begun.
The Director watches.
And the world of DeadZ 2 has finally come alive.
End of Chapter 6