It was an overwhelming situation. I broke it down in my head.

  Why was I here?

  It was the stupid Trial I signed up for.

  Where was I?

  Some enclosed stone chamber with an ambient light level comparable to offices on Earth.

  Who were these people?

  They were no one I recognized. But if they were here, they had activated the Terminal, which was to say, they should all have at least one Level. There weren’t anything like knights or wizards here—everyone wore clothing that I could see back at the village, albeit more armored. These people were probably all villagers like me.

  What was going on with me?

  I was totally naked. The only thing I had was the waist pack I had in my hands—thank goodness for that.

  What about Runica?

  Shit, she was probably freaking out right now. I had to get this done quickly.

  I looked around. Some looked away. Others were never looking in my direction. “Alright? Can anyone explain to me why I’m here and who all you people are?”

  No response—at least not from the people standing closest to me.

  “Hey,” someone called.

  I followed the voice to a red-haired woman sitting at the side. She had a sharp, athletic frame–like Selma in her prime. Her red hair was pulled into a spiked ponytail that jutted out like fever grass. A few loose strands framed her narrow face. Her eyes were a muted amber, almost golden.

  She wore a sleeveless leather tunic reinforced with bark-like plating across the chest and shoulders. One of her arms was wrapped with a tight black bandage. A long hunting blade hung at her side, worn but clean. She looked like she could skin a beast in the dark, with one hand, and still roll her eyes while doing it.

  “You might want to figure out some clothes before you start trying to get people looking your way.” She scoffed. “They don’t look it, but they’re the shy sort.”

  I did my best to restrain my irritation. “Thanks for the advice.”

  She locked eyes with me and then nodded in a certain direction. I followed the direction she’d gestured toward. A pair of boys were trying to speak over each other, their arms moving like they were scribbling on invisible chalkboards. They looked like they were frantically voicing their need for help, but failing. A few people nearby glanced their way, but no one stepped in.

  “There are at least three newbies this time, and one of them’s missing an arm,” the woman muttered. “Rough.”

  I clicked my tongue. “I’m going to assume you’re just an awkward person.”

  She scoffed. “Who knows… Be mindful of the time.”

  Gritting my teeth, I made my way through a crowd of thirty or so. The people parted, wanting nothing to do with me, evidently.

  “Hey,” I said, approaching the frantic pair.

  Only when I got close and they both turned to me did I realize they were brothers. Same strong brows, same dark orange color to their hair, same button noses, same complexion—but one was a full head taller and looked a year or two older.

  The older one had dark curly hair that had been tied back with a shoelace, and he wore a patchwork leather vest that looked like it had seen real fieldwork. The younger was a bit leaner, but he, too, looked like a guy who had known hard work. Both were wearing ratty cloaks that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in days.

  “You guys have no idea what’s going on either, huh?” I asked.

  The younger one squinted at me. “Wait—are you naked?”

  “Technically, I have a pack,” I muttered.

  The older one was already shrugging off his cloak. “Here, man. Whatever this place is, you don’t want your stuff swinging all over the place. Keep your dignity at least.”

  I paused for a second, noting the many scars on the older one’s arms.

  “Thanks,” I said, tying the brown cloth around my waist. It was scratchy but good enough. I could work with scratchy. “I’m Set. You guys?”

  The older one pointed at himself and then his brother. “I’m Noah; he’s Nico. Good to meet you.”

  “Same. You guys come from another village?”

  Noah’s face went through a sequence of emotion, starting at surprise and ending at dread. “Yeah… You from a village, too?”

  I nodded.

  Nico gasped. “You’re from another village!? But ours is the only one!”

  Noah slapped the back of Nico’s head. “He’s obviously from another village! When have we ever seen him at home?”

  “Gah, you’re right! There are other villages! Oh, holy roots, there’s another village.”

  I gestured to the people behind me. “Bet there’s a whole lot more than we expected.”

  Noah grimaced, trying to hide how shaken he was. Nico let it all out.

  I’d be as panicked as them, if not for my memories of another life—those memories were my anchor. I had read all sorts of shit. I could imagine orders of magnitude more horrors than they could. That would give me an advantage at least. I could take it all in stride and just keep gathering information.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Guys, calm down and look around,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “No one’s talking. It’s just us–the obvious newcomers. You know what that means? Whatever’s about to happen is something that would cause people to refrain from fraternizing. We can’t be freaking out. Keeping our wits is the only way we’re making it through this.”

  The brothers looked past me and visibly went pale. As for me, I had long noticed that some were listening in on the conversation. They were probably trying to get a sense for our capabilities.

  I wondered just how much they knew. Levels, Checklists, Signature Weapons, Trump Cards, God Arms–how much did they have in their arsenals?

  I began a quick series of question, trying to get as much as I could out of them before time was up.

  Where were they before this?

  Surprisingly, they were out in the caverns, after having made a mistake and stepping out of their own boundaries. They found a cavern with the Trial Terminal out there and activated it, but then stayed in the cavern because they were terrified of Shadow Beasts.

  Did they have regeneration?

  They did. They called it “The Beanstalk Blessing” on account of the giant beanstalks that grew around their village. Interestingly, the older brother only realized he had the blessing after they interacted with the terminal. That meant he gained a Level from the activation. If Nico had the regeneration beforehand, then he was at least Level 2.

  Did they hear the same things I did when first activating the terminal?

  They did, pretty much word for word. At the time, they thought it would be their way out of the caverns.

  I nodded, taking it all in. It was good information.

  “Hey, you guys,” I said, curious about something new. “What happened right before you got brought here?”

  “Right before… Ahh! We were woken up by this loud sound!”

  “Yeah, we knew we just had until a count of ten before something happened!”

  I raised a brow. “A count of 10? And you just knew?”

  “Yeah, it was just like when we touched the Trial thing. It was just in our heads.”

  I must have been scowling. These guys got 10 seconds or something? That wasn’t fair. Furthermore, if it was like how the Signature Weapon information got beamed into their heads, then these guys didn’t have the stuff getting visualized the way I was seeing it.

  “So… You guys didn’t see anything weird in your vision or haven’t seen anything like that?”

  I knew full well that what I was doing was the exact reason the others weren’t talking. These two didn’t know better, and here I was, extracting information from them to help my own understanding.

  “No, nothing weird besides what we saw in the caverns. Did you see something?”

  I chuckled. “I think I must still have been dreaming… I thought a snake was about to swallow me up.”

  “Oh! I hope that wasn’t a prophetic vision!”

  “Set, do you know what a Trial is?” Noah asked.

  “Beyond what we were told? No idea.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Those idiots are making it clear there are no friends here, though.”

  Nico frowned, almost to the point of tears. “This doesn’t make sense. We’ve found more people—more villages. We should be helping each other out!”

  He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t matter. The reality was right there in the silence, and in the eyes of the people listening in. Finding other people in this miserable world wasn’t that special for these people.

  Just then, a deep whine filled the chamber—like pressure equalizing, or a rusty machine starting up. All the idle shuffling stopped. Some participants straightened. Some froze. I felt a chill roll down my spine as the ambient light in the room subtly dimmed, drawing our attention upward.

  A new glow appeared overhead—pale and sterile—and then, from that light, an eruption of sparkles occurred, revealing a figure.

  It was a torso, at first glance.

  A humanoid upper body, arms folded, with shaggy shoulder-length hair that framed his face in wild tufts. A short beard hung from his chin, streaked with white and black, looking like it had never once seen a comb. His eyes were half-opened with disinterest, and despite the lazy posture, there was something sharp beneath the unbothered look like he was the type of lazy that didn’t want to be bothered with anything.

  Below his waist, there was nothing—no legs, no hips—just a gentle taper into a dark void. Around his waist was a wide, floating silver ring. The ring emitted a low hum and rotated slowly, like a living platform.

  There was something else unique about this person–checkerboard.

  That was the pattern stitched into the shirt and vest he wore below his coat—big black and white squares slapped together unevenly. Even his hair and the tophat that looked punched-in had the pattern. The coat was a faded green, with a high collar and red piping, the kind of thing a circus ringmaster might wear if they'd crawled out of a dumpster and refused to take it off since. One sleeve had a tear near the elbow. The sash around his middle sagged on one side. Everything about him screamed: I don’t want to be here any more than you do.

  “A Saturial,” someone whispered nearby. “It’s a Saturial this time.”

  “Ugh,” someone else added. “Lucky us.”

  Saturial? It made me think of the planet Saturn. That was weird. Was it because of the ring?

  The Saturial scratched his beard with the back of a gloved hand and yawned audibly.

  “Silence.”

  Everyone went still. The word hadn’t just been heard—it had been felt in our bones.

  He rubbed one eye, then slouched forward like it physically hurt to perform his task.

  “Congratulations, you suicidal morons. You’ve signed up for the Trial—Everlasting, Endless, Eternal—whatever branding you heard. It’s the Trial, and now you’re in it. You activated it. You stepped inside. Nobody tricked you.”

  He floated down a few feet, his ring revolving slowly—that seemed more like a saucer from certain angles–as he glanced across the crowd. His eyes didn’t rest on anyone long. It felt more like he was counting.

  Nico raised his hand. “Can I ask a question–hmm? Mfgh!?”

  Nico’s mouth had clamped shut, to our shock.

  “No. Shut up,” the Saturial said a moment later. “Don’t make this longer than it has to be. Ahem. As per the terms of your activation, you are now bound to the Trial. Until it concludes, you cannot leave. He held up three fingers. There will be three rounds. If you sustain too many wounds in one round, you will be ejected and have to wait here until the round is over.”

  My ears perked up. That sounded like HP hitting zero wouldn’t mean death—just removal. Temporary failure. You could lose a round but still go on. That also meant I couldn’t just throw it thinking I’d be dropped back home… I hoped these people would do me the decency of taking me back home when this was all done…

  “You can then join the next rounds, if there is one. Try to succeed in every round, and you’ll be fine. There will be losers at the end of the trial. Winners get a prize, like usual. There are thirty of you, like usual. Got it?”

  No one said a word. This really was a usual occurrence for these people.

  He clapped his hands slowly, without enthusiasm. “So! Let’s get this circus rolling.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a long metal rod—crooked near the end, almost like an old cane—and pointed it lazily toward the floor. A projection of geometric shapes spiraled outward, painting the stone with shifting glyphs and flickering patterns.

  He smirked behind his beard. “You’ll be transported shortly. Try not to weep when you’re alone. Or do. I don’t care.”

  The Saturial leaned back, letting his ring lift him lazily toward the ceiling.

  “Oh, and if any of you attempt to cheat…” He raised a single finger, drawing lazy spirals in the air. “It’d be funny if you pull that off. I’ll shake your hand if you do.”

  The light above him snapped out. The room went pitch-black.

  Someone screamed.

  Then the floor vanished beneath us.