One by one, they began to awaken from their long slumber.
Unlike their first awakening, their bodies felt restored—whole, strengthened. Yet alongside that renewal came an overwhelming hunger, a gnawing emptiness that suggested they had been starved for far longer than memory could measure.
In this moment, the system was both ruthless and merciful.
Two commands appeared before them:
Issued Command 1: Do not attack other creatures for 1 hour.
Issued Command 2: Find a place to hide.
It was as though the system understood their dangerous proximity. Without restraint, the cavern would have devolved into slaughter within minutes. From an outside perspective, only one conclusion could be drawn:
The system intended to grant every entity a fair chance.
However, some attempted to bypass the system and turned on their neighbors. Before they could even lay a hand upon them, their bodies detonated—reduced to ruptured flesh and scattered blood.
The remaining creatures watched in stunned silence.
They needed no further instruction.
From that moment on, the system s commands were obeyed without question.
Within a small cavity into the cavern wall lay a tiny creature. Obeying the system s command, it had judged this spot to be ideal—secluded, narrow, and guarded by several stalagmites that formed a crude but effective defensive line against intruders.
The creature stood barely one foot tall. Compared to the deity from before, it was no more then an ant.
It did not care.
When it awoke fully, the familiar light-green screen appeared once more, presenting two new directives:
[Issued Command 1] : Survive for as long as possible.
[Reward] : ?
[Issued Command 2] : Be the last to stand and claim the crown.
[Reward] : ???
The small figure—a doll with empty sockets where its eyes should have been—stared blankly at the screen, utterly dumbfounded.
Simple thoughts drifted through its mind.
Survive? Of course it would. Reward ? What was that?
It reread the second command.
A crown? It did not know what a crown was, nor what it meant to claim one. Perhpas it was something edible. Who could say? Yet the word reward appeared again, and though its meaning eluded the doll, a strange certainty settled within it.
Whatever it was, it felt... good.
After witnesssing the fate of those who disobeyed the sytem, there was no question. It would follow every instruction written on that screen—if only to stay alive.
Seconds later, the test faded. The screen shifted once more, flooding crimson red as a warning appeared:
Be aware, host. Respawn is temporarily deactivated for the Fight of the Crown.
Respawn.
Another unfamiliar word.
Yet despite not understanding it, the doll felt something tighten within itself.
It became alert.
One step. Two steps.
With fearful movements, the small doll began exploring the cavern, hoping to find something to eat. Hunger gnawed at it, like it did at all the other awakened creatures.
To its right and left, impressive sights stretched out: stalagmites and stalactites draped with moss, water dripping continuously.
Drip. Drip.
Tiny ants scurried across the ground, but there were too few and small to make a meaningful meal.
Scattered across the stone were minerals—salt, cobalt, ruby, lapis lazuli, even traces of gold.
Beautiful to look at, perhaps, but utterly useless to a creature made of cloth.
Seeing not even an enemy, the doll s footsteps grew more confident, more composed... until it ran into a corner.
"Auch!" It muttered. But its body, stitched from dirty cloth, hardly seemed capable of feeling pain. Perhaps it was instinct, or a memory left over from a long ago.
It continued, cautious yet determined, until its steps froze. Immediately, it ducked behind a rock.
Giant ants—roughly its size—scuttled past, carrying pieces of meat into a dark hole.
"They re the same size as me... should i risk it?" The doll thought.
It stayed hidden, observing, pondering, and planning.
It began counting the ants as they carried their loot.
"One... two... three..."
It paused, unsure what came next. Finally, it added aloud in its mind: "...many after three."
With a satisfied smile, he thought himself clever for coming up with the word many.
The little doll continued to watch and observe, many hours passing without him realizing it.
The pattern never changed. Groups of ants—many of them—marched through the tunnel, carrying chunks of meat into the black hole.
When they returned, the meat was gone. Always gone.
After countless observations, the doll realized something important.
It was more than many.
It was multiple manys.
He had no chance against that without a plan.
During one such expedition, a sudden rumble echoed through the tunnel. A boulder broke loose, gaining terrible strength as it fell. One ant tried to dodge, but the stone was simply too large.
Crack!
The ant was crushed instantly.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The ant did not move again,
The doll s atention shifted upward. At the point of origin, several more boulders rested precariously, barely held in place. Just a small push, and they would fall.
He knew the problem, though.
His body was frail. He could maybe push one—and only if he tried with all his strength.
He could kill a group of many but what about the others or if there would be survivors, how would he retaliate? He needed something else.
This plan was good but it was not enough if things would become dire.
Still thinking, he turned and followed a fork in the tunnel to his right, choosing the second path. Perhaps another solution waited there.
He walked carefully, placing each step with intention, watching left and right, ahead and behind—alert at all times.
Then he froze.
Two silhouettes were fighting.