VIII

Alex awoke with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, as though he had sprinted a mile. Drenched in sweat, his body felt so heavy, his eyes wide open and darting around the room in search of something, anything that would explain this sudden panic. He leaned against the cold floor as he attempted to ground himself.

"Etheric entities." he muttered, his voice shaking, fresh fragments of the dream still clear in his mind. His hands instinctively rubbed over his face as if he could rub off the confusion and fear that clung to him.

He drew a deep breath. "He said I'm the only one left. But why? What makes me different?" His voice shook with the questions that weren't coming.

Alex slid down the floor, his back against the wall, still shaking in his hands. "All those entities. they faced something I don't understand. and none of them made it." The thought finally hit him, dread filling the spaces between his breaths.

"But what's the threat?" he muttered under his breath, fighting to remember the dream's cryptic warning. "They don't even know what it is. How do I prepare for something like that? How am I supposed to survive when they didn't?"

The more he thought about it, the more it sounded like some kind of cruel joke: "Continue advancing. but faster," he repeated, the words echoing from his dream like an echo. "Faster towards what?"

His mind raced, trying to put the pieces together. "Maybe. maybe I can learn from the echoes of myself, from other times. Maybe they missed something that I can't afford to."

Alex struggled to his feet and moved slowly, brain fog still in. "I cannot just disappear as they did," he whispered to nobody, staring fixedly at nothing, yet his jaw set. "I have to find a way."

Just as he was starting to gather his thoughts, a familiar itch flared across his forearm. His eyes darted to the tattoo-the one that had been there so many times before. Only now it pulsed, glowing faintly with some sort of green light.

"What.?" he murmured, the words barely audible. The markings on the tattoo, previously lifeless, were suddenly in motion now as the light grew in power, casting an eerie glow about the room.

The pulse hastened, as if it wanted to tell him something; and, before he had fully comprehended it, a message was in front of him, with letters clear as life, stating:

"You have received a special mission."

Alex looked at the notice, his heart thumping against his chest. "A special mission?" His hand rubbed over the tattoo, feeling its heat under his skin. "Why now? I've never seen this type of message before."

His anxiety increased as he tried to still his racing thoughts. Then came another notification, this time clearer and more specific:

"Raise all of your stats to 10 points."

Alex's breath got stuck in his throat as his eyes widened in disbelief. "Raise all my stats to 10? How am I to do that?" And the panic made him remember how little progress he had reached.

Then, the final blow:

"Deadline: Seven days. Failure of mission, there will be consequences."

Alex's heart had sunk. "Seven days?" he screamed, tugging at his head as if to hold panic inside. "This. this can't be happening!"

The pressure weighed heavy in his chest, as his thoughts spiraled out of control. "How am I supposed to raise my stats in seven days? And I still have daily missions? Impossible!

In a flash, he felt a surge of anger well up inside, and his fist came down hard onto the ground. "And to crown it all, even at the university, I am not allowed to train because of that stupid ban!" His voice broke from pure anger; the unfairness was choking him. "Where the hell is this supposed to be done?"

The bitter truth struck with full force: every way out seemed barred, every road shut.

"Why does it have to be that everything falls apart at the same time?" His voice cracked under the weight of it all.

A few seconds later, Alex sat still, gasping for breath as his mind was racing with questions and doubts. "Come on, Alex. You have been through worse. You cannot quit now," he whispered, trying to fight this overwhelming dread.

But even as he forced his mind to clarify, one gnawing fact would not leave him alone: time was ticking, and it had never felt as though the weight of defeat could be heavier.

Alex sat, gasping shallowly, his mind filled with the turmoil of anxiety and indecision. His gaze was fixed upon the glowing tattoo, as each notification weighed a little more with gravity upon his chest. He was being tugged by fear, but by something deeper, too: hesitation, an abrading uncertainty holding him fast to the spot.

And then, memories hit him. Punishment Land. It fell into his mind like a stormy sea—black, thick with repression. His throat clamped down as that place's image came back to his mind once more: an endless wasteland filled with creatures that defied comprehension. Monsters, towering and pitiless, roamed free there, and the survival portion had seemed a mean joke.

Punishment Land. he whispered, barely audible. A cold shiver went down his spine. "It was a nightmare, that place.

He could still envision the grotesque forms of the creatures he had encountered, feel raw terror at facing something so far beyond his strength. The harsh conditions, the constant threat-it was all too real. He could remember just how powerless and small he'd felt every single time he'd crossed paths with one of those monsters. "If I go there. I'll be surrounded. And I barely made it out the first time."

His hands found his head, clenching tightly as he tried to push the memory away. But his mind kept circling back to hard reality now. "Time is slipping away here," he muttered, a note of desperation in his voice. "But there. maybe I'll have more time to get stronger, to raise my stats."

Torn, the mere thought of having to return to that hellhole sent a wave of nausea through him. The other option-being here-meant sure defeat. The ticking clock would just not stop, and the pressure kept mounting until his heart beat against his ribs as anxiety reached a fever pitch.

But what if I can't survive again?" he asked as the fear clawed louder and more insistently. "What if it's worse this time? What if I'm not ready?" Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, a physical manifestation of the terror that had seized it. His hands were trembling while memories of pain, fear, and exhaustion from his last trip there flooded his mind.

Mired in indecision, Alex sat there. "If I stay… there's no way I'll make it through this." The words cracked under the weight of their truth. "But if I go to the Punishment Land…" He caught the words in his throat. "Maybe I'll be able to survive. Maybe I will get stronger. If I'm lucky."

He fisted his hands, looking down at them as if he was searching for answers. "I'm scared," he whispered. "I don't want to go back. but I don't have a choice. Time's running out."

He exhaled heavily, hoping that the eye of the storm would leave him with any shred of calmness. Deep down, he knew the Land of Punishment was literally his only real shot-no matter how terrifying that returning home sounded to him. If there was any place that could make him go to the edge and grow, it was there.

As if he fought long enough with his fear, Alex finally made up his mind. "If I'm going to do it… I have to face it." His voice wasn't trembling that much anymore, but he was still afraid. "I need to endure. I don't think there's a better option."

It had been a day since he got his first notice, and the burden continued to grow heavier as the second ticked away. Seated in the room, his heart racing in his chest, smothered by his thoughts, his decision weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Then, without warning, the tattoo on his arm flared to life, glowing a deep, ominous red. Another notification flashed in front of his eyes, the words like a kick to his stomach.

"You have exceeded the time limit for physical exercises. You must face the consequences. You will be transported now."

Alex's body felt as if ice was suddenly seeping through his veins. "No… wait-" The words choked at his throat as an unseen force pulled at him, yanking him back with the force of ten thoroughbreds tugging at their tethers. He couldn't hold it back. The room around him twisted, distorting into some unrecognizable blur, as if the very fabric of reality was being torn apart.

The pressure was immense, crushing him from all sides, and then-just like that-it was gone.

He opened his eyes to a sudden rush of cold air that slapped him awake. He was no longer in his room but lay sprawled on the ground, with the rocky earth beneath him, rough and unwelcoming. Above, the sky was dark, churning with thick clouds, the air sharp with the acrid scent in it that stung his nose.

"So. I'm back," he whispered, shaking, forcing himself to his feet. His legs wobbled; his body was still readjusting to the sudden change. His eyes went to the bleak landscape around him-gray rocks, dead ground everywhere, so familiar. It was exactly as he had remembered: stark and foreboding, overwhelming.

His heart ached in his chest as the realization finally took hold. He was back in the Land of Punishment.

A light, weightless shake seemed to move the ground beneath his feet. The panic rose again, and instinctively, Alex took one step back, scanning with his eyes the desolate wasteland around him.

"Not now," his mind thought, racing at high speeds. He could feel it-the danger was close.

A feral snarl boomed from the ground as a huge mole-like creature burst from it, shaking the very dirt beneath Alex's feet. This was not any ordinary beast: its claws were of an abnormal size, wickedly sharp, and shining with malice. The air itself was cut by the chilling aura that emanated from his form, while above his head, some sort of red gem pulsed ominously.

Alex's breath catches in his throat, but he cuts the tension with his dry humor. "Well, isn't that a nice warm welcome. If this is what the VIP treatment feels like every time I come, maybe I should have stayed under those blankets."

Before he can get his breath back, it charges forward, its claws tearing into the ground and sending a wave of dust his way. Alex just barely rolls to his side in time, dodging the onslaught. "Great. now I'm on the menu for a burrowing beast. Fantastic start."

He panics under his skin; the most caustic remarks are there, as ever. His eyes fix on the red gem that crowns the monster's head, glowing almost like a homing beacon. "A red gem? Really? Is this thing part of some sort of twisted underground fashion show?"

No time, however, for jokes. The mole makes another lunge, this time much quicker than the last, and deadly precision tears through the air with his claws. Alex barely avoids being cleaved in two, his mind racing in regard to his fast dwindling options.

"Okay. think, think! That gem has got to be a weak point, right? Otherwise, why does it look like a freakin' target?" His instincts scream at him to run, but there is no place to go. The barren land offers no shelter, no reprieve. His only choice is to fight.

The mole's aura surges, and with a small tremor in the ground, it charges for another attack. Alex's heartbeat quickens as in desperation he taps into his unpredictable ability, Hopping on Luck. "Alright, let's see if I can roll a good hand here."

It barrels toward him, claws poised to strike. Alex darts to the side, but his foot slips on loose gravel that slows him down. The mole's claw rakes across his arm, carving a deep, burning gash. Blood splatters across the dirt and Alex hisses through clenched teeth.

"Damn it… not the luck I was hoping for!" He grunts, clutching his wounded arm in pain that cuts like a hot knife, but there is no time to stop. The mole has already regrouped, ready to kill.

Fighting against the pain, Alex focuses on the gem. "If I'm going down, I'm at least gonna take that thing with me," he growls. The desperate panic replaced by fierce determination. In a shaking breath, he starts forward-throwing a wild swing at the glowing red mark.

His fist connects with the gem-a jolt courses through the beast. It screeches, a deafening, blood-curdling sound, as if the earth itself shook beneath them. For a moment, it's as if victory has been grasped-but then the mole retaliates, his claws across Alex's side, very deep cuts. The pain is blinding, and he stumbles backward, almost collapsed by the force.

"Why isn't this like that damn VR training?!" Alex pants, his hand slapping against his side in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. His vision blurs as hot pain threatens to overwhelm him. But the mole isn't done yet-it growls low, the rumbling of the sound in the air, and then something moves under it.

The ground shakes, and the soil and rocks rise around the beast in a layer of impenetrable armor. The mole, armored like this, stands even more colossally above him, proud and strong.

"Of course. it gets stronger. Why not?" Alex's heart sinks as he realizes his punches, no matter how well-aimed they were, wouldn't be able to break through this new defense.

The mole suddenly charges again, faster this time, its eyes aglow with malice. Alex tries to dodge but is slowed down by the blood loss. The creature's claws rake across his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. The impact sends the wind out of his lungs, and he coughs, tasting blood in his mouth. Every nerve in his body screams in agony while he struggles to his feet.

"I won't be able to hold out much longer." His mind is racing, panic claws at his heart. His arms shake as he tries to force himself to his feet, but his strength is fast deserting him. The mole circles him, its predator eyes agleam with anticipation.

Alex tries calling his siren again, and it stutters. His vision blurs, the pain dragging him down. The mole closes in, talons shining in the dim light to deliver the finishing blow.

In despair, Alex throws himself to the side, barely dodging the beast's claws. But he is sluggish, and the mole recovers in time to slice him across his back. The pain is unbearable; he falls onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"I can't… not like this…" His mind spins as the mole towers over him, ready to finish the fight. His body yells in protest, all muscles, but he willed his body into motion, crawling back, trying to get away.

The only thing that flickered in his mind, as he gasped for air, his body aching and covered with blood, was lightning ability. The one he got after the fight with Matthew. He never tried it, never tested the power or managed to find out how to control it. But right now, he didn't have any other choice. Desperation clung to him.

Clutching his arm and gritting his teeth, he tried to raise that unfamiliar surge of energy. Then, in the blink of an eye, the tattoo on his forearm pulsed, shining with an eerie blue light; he received notification before his eyes in these words:

"Alert: The ability of lightning has been turned on. Time of use: 30 seconds."

"Thirty seconds",Alex thought. "That's all I need."

In an instant, with no second thought, it was pure electricity running through his veins, firing his body-a conduit of raw power. His muscles flexed, his skin buzzing from the energy coursing through him as if he had been a living, breathing thunderstorm. Sparks crackled off his fingertips. There wasn't room for hesitation. Every movement now surged with deadly precision.

The mole, gathering itself for the final attack, froze. For a millisecond, terror flickered in its primitively cold eyes, sensing the dangerous shift in its prey. But Alex felt nothing-fear, hesitation, or pity.

With a flicker of cold determination in his eyes, he lunged. Lightning streaked across his body, launching him toward the beast like a bolt from the sky. His fist, replete with electric energy, smashed into the mole's thick hide and sent a shockwave coursing through the air. The beast reeled back with blood spraying from the gaping wound.

Yet Alex did not stop. No satisfaction shone in his eyes, only cold efficiency. Moving in a blur of speed, he continued to strike, blow after merciless blow. Precise, calculated, each blow was meant to maim, not just wound. His face was a mask, almost mechanical, as if he was detached from the violence unfolding around him.

He thought, *This is nothing, as he leaped again, the humming of electricity louder and sharper. Then, in one final leap, he landed on the beast's chest. His hands, pulsating with energy, pierced through its flesh like a blade of a knife that cuts through butter. The creature let out a guttural scream, but Alex's eyes were dead-void of empathy, of anything. His fingers wrapped around the beast's heart, feeling it pound weakly against his grip in a fight for survival.

He paused for a moment, staring down at the struggling organ in his hand. Blood poured from the beast's chest, but Alex's grip only tightened. His fingers curled around the heart like a vice. He felt its life slipping away, and still, there was nothing inside him. No satisfaction. No thrill. Just emptiness.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he crushed the heart in his palm.

The sound was sickening-the squelch of muscle and bone giving way under his strength. Blood erupted from the beast's chest, splattering across Alex's face, painting him crimson. He didn't flinch, didn't blink. His hand squeezed tighter until the heart was nothing more than pulp, a ruined mass of tissue and blood.

It bucked hard beneath him, the body spasming in those final death throes. But Alex just stared, his face expressionless, his thoughts a million miles away. The body jerked once, then lay still, the last vestiges of life seeping out into the air. And still, Alex felt nothing.

He stood there a while, his stare fixed to the mangled remains of the beast. His hands were slick with blood, hanging limply at his sides. The rush of the fight, the adrenaline-it all began seeping away, leaving in its wake an unearthly, haunting silence.

Alex stared at his hands-the red of them soaking in the blood of this creature that he had just killed. His fingers shook, but not because of the fear or guilt that rose therein. It was something deeper. Emptiness gnawed him from inside.

Is that all? he mused, the question floating in his mind with the silence of a shadow. He had killed. He had survived. But why did it feel so. hollow?

He stared at the body, but the gruesomeness barely registered. The satisfaction that he thought he might feel, which was supposed to be the sense of power and control-it was missing. In its place, there was a void, a gaping hole that seemed to grow bigger with every heartbeat.

"It's over…" His voice barely whispered out, cold and distant.

He waited for the surge of relief, for the weight to lift from his chest, but it never came. Instead, a crushing sense of isolation settled in. The emptiness inside him grew, consuming what little feeling remained. It was as if the violence had scrubbed something off him-something human, something vital.

He looked down at the beast's shattered heart, still leaking its blood onto the ground, and for the first time felt queasy. His stomach churned, and before he could catch himself, his knees buckled, and he vomited. The bitter taste of his bile scorched his throat. It was not from the sight of the blood that the nausea had come, though. It was the realization of what he had become that did it.

Wiping his mouth, Alex collapsed back onto the ground, trembling all over. He could not help but feel that something inside him died with the beast, that with each kill, a part of him had died.

He lay on his back and stared up at the sky, his mind reeling with all these thoughts in dissonance. Is this who I am now?* The question reverberated in the hollow echo of his heart. A killer? A monster?

The cold wind whipped against his blood-streaked face, but it did nothing to soothe the void that had taken root inside of him.

As Alex stood on the bare ground, having cleaned blood, dust, and vomit off his body, the earth around him started to shudder. It was slight at first-a gentle hum-which rapidly rose to a fever pitch and caused the entire area to shake as if a small earthquake had commenced. The ground crackled and groaned beneath him; stones were breaking apart, scattering.

Panic flared through him. "What's going on now? Is it another one?" he muttered, fighting for his balance. With his breathing rapid, the ground under him suddenly broke apart in a rapid series of deep fissures, each one widening. The rumbling increased, adding to the mayhem.

Without warning, the ground fissures suddenly widened, and a wave of moles burst from the earth. In every direction, they sprang: faces twisted with anger, razor-sharp fangs shining dripping with evil intent. Above them, an angry red glow pulsed.

No, no, no!" Alex yelled, the tenor of his voice rising with desperation. He began to back up, every step precarious in the uneven ground, and he stumbled with increasing hurry as moles pressed on with relentless speed before him, pushing their path full.

Alex ran wildly, attempting to leap over boulders that seemed to be in his path everywhere, while slipping on loose rubble before falling to the ground. Surrounded by the creatures closing in, he struggled to his feet. "This is just not good at all!" he yelled, avoiding by a hair's breadth the savage lunges of the moles.

Every step was made with danger, each movement a risk. He rolled between rocks, climbed where he could, ran through broken landscape closing in on all sides with beasts. His heart pounded with every beat loud in his ears, his fear as he ran at full speed.

Alex was engulfed in a state of sheer panic, as the moles closed in on him from every direction. He glanced around wildly and spotted a tiny fissure between the boulders. Gathering the last reserves of strength, he sprinted toward it with renewed determination to press harder. His breathing was in short, ragged gasps now as he squeezed through the gap, narrowly evading the nails of the pursuing moles.

"I have to get out of here!" he said in a furiously whispering voice. He forced his way through the small space and came out on the other side. The forest lay ahead, and running toward it, his lungs were burning with heavy effort. Turning around, he saw moles stopping at the boundary of that desolate land. They stood at the frontier, scowling with anger but didn't dare to come into the forest.

Alex sprinted through the underbrush and into the relative safety of the woods, exhausted and gasping for breath. The denser canopy shielded him from view, yet the forest was not sanctuary-just a temporary reprieve.

He stopped in front of a big tree, hanging closely to it and leaning, quivering with his hands. His clothes were tattered, smudged into some sort of grotesque mix of blood and dirt; heaviness of the feeling in the ordeal fell upon him, and it was shock and tiredness that could be felt. "I never thought I'd be in such a situation. For good news, they weren't too fast," he muttered, winced as he looked at his wounds. The sting of the blood and bruises reminded him of how close a call it had really been.

"Why did I have to come here?" Alex asked, blaming himself now for all the choices that he had made. "It shouldn't have been this hard." He racked his brain, trying to get ahold of himself, his body screaming at him in utter exhaustion.

He stumbled to a small pond whose surface glittered in the moonlight that filtered through the leaves of the trees. He bent over the edge, splashing water on his face and hands. "I need to clean off this blood. But which is my blood and which is that of the mole?" he said aloud, studying his reflection in the rippling water.

He continued to wash himself slowly, trying to get the blood and grime of battle off his body. "Everything seems like an endless nightmare… Why am I so cold?" it cycled in his head, thinking about what kind of man he truly was turning out to be.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearing his mind of thoughts that bothered him. "I cannot stop now … not while I have the chance to be able to get stronger." His resolution began to set in, preparation for whatever was to come his way, though the darkness in him was starting to grow.

Alex sat by the pond, washing blood, dust, and vomit from his face meticulously. After everything he had just been through, the quiet serenity of the water gave him a brief respite. The ripples in the water slowly subsided, and the momentary clarity of his reflection staring back at him was what brought a moment of solace. This, however, was short-lived.

Something in the reflection caught his eye. He could see his own face back in the still water, but behind him, a serpent-like monster with sleek black scales and ghostly white eyes had begun to materialize. The more it slithered closer, the more sinister it was.

Alex's heart was pounding in his chest as a chill ran down his spine. "What the hell is that?" he whispered, his eyes fixed on the pond. It was as if the ghostly eyes of the creature were staring right back at him through the reflection-its body eerie and stretched out, crawling closer and closer.

Alex whirled around, into whatever it was behind him, but the forest stood still, and heavy branches obscured his line of view. "Wtf,Am I just imaging things?" he whispered, fighting for breath as his heart went racing.

He focused on his surroundings, squinting in an attempt to locate even a hint of the monster. When the water was once again still, he faced himself again; everything was normal. But the feeling of trepidation remained.

Guess I gotta keep my guard up, he thought, his face drying from trembling hands, caught between exhausted and terrorized. He forced himself to continue on high alert as he turned back toward the pond.

The air instantly tightened around him, so thick with menace. Then, in an instant, the snake-like beast exploded into vision, long body uncoiling from the darkness, threading with unholy grace between the boughs. It was fast, blinding-fast-the speed of swift punishment-almost as if it was so intent, snatching at Alex without allowing him to make a mistake.

Instinctively, Alex jumped to the side and narrowly avoided the strike of the monster. He rolled across the forest floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Well,Looks like I wasn't imagining things after all!" he panted as he looked around, seeing the monster's attack in a blur.

Gone in an instant, it vanished into the dark, leaving only disturbed air as it disappeared. Alex realized, with a shiver, this monster could perfectly camouflage with its surroundings, making tracking virtually impossible. "Shit,This is not good at all," he thought, fighting his racing heart. "If it can disappear, how the hell am I supposed to fight it?

He scanned the dark forest, his senses straining to detect anything that would hint at the creature. The trees were thick, and the darkness seemed to be alive, concealing anything that might be of the beast. "Well, I guess it's hunting time!" Alex said with a strained smile, forcing himself to focus despite the rising dread. "Looks like I won't be catching any damn Z's tonight."

To be continued…