I was half conscious.
Not fully awake, but not completely gone either.
My mind floated in and out, like I was sinking underwater and being pulled back up again.
The first thing I felt was pain.
My head hurt the most.
It wasn't sharp anymore.
It was dull, heavy, like something was pressing down on my skull from the inside.
I tried to focus, but every thought felt slow and distant.
I couldn't feel my heartbeat.
That terrified me.
For a moment, I wondered if I was already dead.
I tried to move my fingers.
Nothing happened.
My body didn't respond at all, as if it no longer belonged to me.
Panic tried to rise, but even that felt weak, buried under exhaustion and pain.
Then my vision slowly cleared.
The first thing I saw was Anaya.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear and tears.
She was looking past me, not directly at my eyes, like she was afraid of what she might see if she did.
I wanted to speak.
I couldn't.
The monsters were still nearby.
I could sense them even without turning my head.
Their presence pressed against the air, heavy and threatening.
They weren't right on top of me but they were close enough that I knew I wasn't safe.
The emotion that hit me first wasn't fear.
It was rage.
Hot. Violent.
Burning deep in my chest.
Rage at the monster.
Rage at the betrayal.
Rage at myself for being weak.
My thoughts were broken and scattered, but one memory stood out clearly.
I remembered standing.
I remembered seeing something strange.
And then.
The next moment, I was down.
Broken.
Still breathing
The system appeared again.
I didn't see it with my eyes at first.
I felt it like something had settled inside my head, quiet but impossible to ignore.
A voice followed.
The same female AI voice from before.
Its tone was calm, almost gentle, and the light that appeared in front of my eyes was a soft yellow.
It hovered there, steady and unreal, as if it didn't belong to this place filled with blood and monsters.
"Welcome back, Host."
The words sent a shiver through me.
Text appeared beneath the voice, clear and sharp despite my blurred vision.
The system mentioned my condition immediately.
My status wasn't hidden.
It didn't lie or soften the truth.
I was still in danger.
Very much so.
The system made that clear too.
It explained things more than before but not in a way that made everything understandable.
The information came in pieces, like it expected me to already know what was happening.
I didn't.
I couldn't fully understand what it wanted from me.
Survive.
That much was clear.
Everything else felt distant and confusing.
My thoughts were slow, tangled by pain and exhaustion, but one question kept repeating in my head.
Why is it helping me?
I didn't trust it.
I didn't hate it either.
I just didn't understand it.
And that scared me almost as much as what was happening around me.
But there was one thought that scared me more than anything else.
Dying.
Not just dying here in the dungeon
But dying without knowing why this system chose me at all.
The system repeated only one rule.
Survive.
It didn't explain it in a complicated way.
It didn't soften it.
Just one word.
I waited for more.
For instructions.
For promises.
For reassurance.
None came.
I understood one thing clearly if I failed, there would be punishment.
The system didn't say what kind.
It didn't need to.
The way the message lingered in my vision told me it wouldn't be something I could endure easily.
Right now, "survive" didn't mean winning.
It didn't mean killing the monster.
It meant staying alive for a few more seconds.
I was afraid to move.
My body was weak, barely responding to my thoughts.
Every part of me felt heavy, damaged, close to breaking.
Even breathing felt like work.
But giving up never crossed my mind.
Not even once.
The rage inside me burned too strongly for that. Rage at the monster.
Rage at my team. Rage at being treated like something disposable.
I didn't trust the system.
Not even a little.
But I didn't have a choice.
The system wasn't asking me to act.
It was forcing me to.
If I wanted to live, I had to strengthen my weak body and get up no matter how much it hurt.
I could feel it.
I didn't have much time.
Only a few moments before everything ended.
So I made my decision.
I wouldn't give up.
Not here.
Not like this.
At first, I wasn't sure if anything had changed.
Then I felt it.
A strange sensation spread through my body, subtle but impossible to ignore.
It didn't start in one clear place more like it flowed through me, sinking into my muscles and bones at the same time.
It wasn't painful.
That surprised me.
It was relieving.
The dull ache in my body eased slightly, and my breathing changed.
Air filled my lungs faster, easier, as if something inside me had finally loosened.
I sucked in a deep breath without my chest screaming in protest.
I could move.
Not perfectly but better than before.
My fingers twitched.
My arm responded when I tried to lift it.
Strength slowly returned, not all at once, but enough that I could feel the difference.
What shocked me most was how strong my body suddenly felt.
It wasn't normal.
Just moments ago, I couldn't even move.
Now, even in my broken state, there was power in my limbs raw and unfamiliar.
The monsters noticed.
I could see it in the way they shifted, their movements slowing as if they sensed something was wrong.
Their eyes stayed locked on me, no longer filled with confidence, but confusion.
Surprise.
That reaction gave me hope.
The change inside me was real.
But with that hope came fear.
A new fear.
What's wrong with my body?
Whatever this system had done, it wasn't something ordinary.
And deep down, I knew that changes like this never came without a price.
I attacked.
I didn't think about escaping.
I didn't think about enduring.
Anger pushed me forward before fear could stop me.
The monster stood in front of me, massive and terrifying, but all I could think about was defeating it.
About releasing everything burning inside my chest.
The betrayal.
The humiliation.
The rage.
I had no weapon.
My broken blade was gone.
So I clenched my fists.
That alone felt wrong.
I was an F-rank hunter.
Fighting a monster like this with my bare hands should've been suicide.
But my body felt different now lighter, stronger.
I stepped forward and struck.
My fist slammed into the monster's body.
The impact shocked me.
I felt resistance, but I didn't feel my bones shatter. Instead, a dull force traveled up my arm, painful but manageable.
For the first time, my attack actually mattered.
The monster roared.
Then everything went wrong.
It retaliated instantly.
A heavy blow crashed into me, sending pain through my body again.
My vision shook, and for a split second, I thought I might be torn apart where I stood.
But I wasn't that close to death.
Not yet.
Anger kept me alive.
It drowned out the pain and forced my body to keep moving even when it should've collapsed.
I stayed on my feet through sheer will.
The system reacted again.
Text appeared in front of my eyes, updating my condition.
It didn't praise me. It didn't comfort me.
It simply observed.
Something inside me shifted.
Strength surged back into my limbs, steadier than before.
My breathing evened out. My balance returned.
I straightened slowly.
I had regained my strength.
And for the first time since entering the dungeon, I felt like I could actually fight back.
I was alive.
Not barely clinging to life alive.
That realization alone felt strange, almost unreal. Just moments ago, my body had been broken, useless.
Now, as strength flowed back into me, everything felt… great.
Too great.
My muscles responded when I moved.
My balance was steady.
My breathing was strong and controlled.
It felt like my body finally belonged to me again.
The monster wasn't dead.
It was still fighting.
Still dangerous.
Still standing in front of me like an obstacle that needed to be crushed.
I could move freely now.
I took a step forward without hesitation, without pain slowing me down.
The fear that once chained my body was gone.
Only one clear thought filled my mind.
Defeat the monster.
There was no relief in my chest. No sense of safety.
Only anger.
Anger burned through me, sharp and focused, pushing every other emotion aside.
It fueled my movements and hardened my resolve.
One word echoed in my head over and over.
Survive.
That was all that mattered.
As I faced the monster, my thoughts drifted briefly to my team. To the betrayal.
To the way they had watched instead of helping.
Something about it didn't sit right.
What really happened back there?
Was this all some kind of trick?
I didn't have answers yet.
But I knew one thing for sure.
This wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.
And in that moment, standing in front of the monster with my fists clenched and my body burning with unfamiliar strength, I made a vow to myself.
No matter what it took
I would change my fate.
The system didn't explain itself.
Not really.
I waited for answers where it came from, why it chose me, what it truly wanted but none of that appeared.
The system stayed silent about its origins, as if those questions didn't matter.
Instead, a panel opened in front of my eyes.
Clear.
Structured.
Cold.
It showed my status.
As my eyes scanned the information, one thing stood out immediately the weakest part of me wasn't my body.
It was my emotions.
That surprised me more than anything else. I had always thought strength was about muscle and power.
Seeing my emotions listed as a weakness made my chest tighten.
Another thing unsettled me.
The way the system existed.
The fact that it could appear so naturally, so perfectly, inside my mind as if it had always been there, waiting.
That realization sent a quiet chill down my spine.
At least one thing had changed.
My condition was no longer listed as critical.
That alone told me the system wasn't lying about helping me survive.
It didn't warn me about future dangers.
It didn't comfort me.
Instead, it gave instructions.
Clear, direct guidance on how to fight.
Where to move.
How to strike.
What angles to avoid.
There were penalties mentioned too.
If I failed.
The system didn't explain what those penalties were, but it didn't need to.
The implication was enough to make my stomach tighten.
I didn't understand the system.
Not fully.
And that was what made me uneasy.
The way it analyzed my body.
The way it adjusted my movements.
The way it used me like a tool being tested in real time.
Whatever this system was, it wasn't just helping.
It was watching.
The danger didn't fade.
I sensed it again clear and unmistakable.
Another monster.
The pressure in the air changed slightly, heavier than before, sharper.
I didn't need to see it yet to understand one thing.
This one was worse.
Strangely, I didn't panic.
My heart didn't race out of control, and my breathing didn't break.
Instead, my mind stayed calm, focused in a way I had never experienced before.
My body reacted on its own.
Every muscle tightened. My stance shifted naturally, lowering my center of gravity.
My senses sharpened, pulling in every
sound, every movement around me.
I was on alert.
The system didn't speak immediately, but its presence was there, guiding my movements quietly.
I followed its instructions without hesitation, adjusting my position step by step.
This time, I didn't make a mistake.
I didn't rush.
I didn't hesitate.
I moved when I needed to and stayed still when it mattered.
Whatever this new danger was, it didn't catch me off guard.
Nothing came close to killing me.
Nothing saved me either.
Because this time, I didn't need saving.
The system said nothing.
No warnings.
No praise.
No messages.
Its silence felt intentional.
Like it was watching.
Testing.
And for the first time since entering the dungeon, I realized something unsettling.
I was no longer reacting just to survive.
I was learning
The struggle didn't end quickly.
It dragged on.
Minutes blurred into hours, and hours turned into something I stopped counting.
By the time it was over, nearly ten hours had passed inside the dungeon.
Ten hours of constant tension.
Ten hours of movement, reaction, endurance.
My hands took the worst of it.
They ached deeply, muscles burning and trembling from repeated strain.
Every strike, every block, every adjustment passed through them.
By the end, my fingers felt stiff, barely responding, but I forced them to keep moving anyway.
I adapted.
Not all at once.
Slowly.
Gradually.
The system didn't interfere directly, but it guided me in subtle ways adjusting my stance, correcting my timing, pushing my body body just enough to keep me alive without breaking me completely.
Little by little, I changed.
The most noticeable improvement was my strength.
It wasn't overwhelming.
It wasn't explosive.
But it was real.
Each movement felt more stable than the last.
Each strike carried slightly more weight.
My body remembered what worked and discarded what didn't.
At the end of it all, the system confirmed one thing.
I had survived.
There was no reward.
No sudden surge of power.
No stat increase.
No praise.
Nothing.
At first, that confused me.
But then I understood.
Survival itself was the reward.
This moment proved something important something deeper than numbers or abilities.
Change was possible.
Not given.
Earned.
As I stood there, exhausted but alive, my mindset shifted.
I stopped thinking about what I lacked.
I stopped waiting for help.
From now on, the way I thought would be different.
Survival wasn't luck.
It was something I could learn.
For now, I was safe.
The dungeon was quiet around me, the heavy pressure fading into something distant.
My body finally allowed itself to rest, even if only a a little. I leaned back against the cold stone, breathing slowly, feeling the tension drain from my muscles.
The system stayed active.
I could feel its presence clearly, steady and watchful, like something standing just behind my thoughts.
But it didn't warn me about anything new. No alerts.
No danger signals.
Nothing.
There was no new threat at least not yet.
Physically, I felt renewed.
Not fully healed, not perfect but stronger than before.
My body felt like it had crossed some invisible line, leaving something fragile behind.
Emotionally, though, there was no peace.
Only anger.
It sat deep in my chest, heavy and unresolved.
Anger at what had happened.
At the betrayal.
At the lies.
At being pushed to the edge of death and expected to disappear quietly.
My thoughts drifted, circling around one question.
What really happened?
The more I thought about it, the less certain everything felt.
Nothing about this dungeon.
Nothing about the system.
Nothing about my team.
Even my own future felt unclear.
I didn't know what my resolve was yet.
I didn't know where this path would lead.
All I knew was that something had changed and it wasn't going away.
As I stared into the darkness ahead, one thought lingered, quiet but honest.
I don't know what this is… but I like it.