Nox was still trying to process everything in his mind.
Then, he heard something.
It was screams. Not just one, but a lot of them, high-pitched and terrified, echoing from outside the classroom, down the hall.
The sounds sliced through the ringing in his ears and the fog clouding his thoughts. Suddenly, the silence in the classroom felt even heavier, even more wrong, because the rest of the school was clearly not silent at all.
It sounded like pure chaos had erupted out there.
Just as that thought registered, new letters flared up in front of his eyes, the same impossible blue as before.
They were brighter this time, and more complex.
This wasn't just a few lines; no, it was a whole block of text, hovering in the air directly over Lex's cooling body.
[System Activated]
[Player Profile: Nox]
[Level: 1]
[EXP: 0/20]
[HP: 75/75] (Health Points)
[MP: 30/30] (Mana Points)
[SP: 50/50] (Stamina Points)
[Core Stats]
Strength (STR): 6
Agility (AGI): 7
Constitution (CON): 7
Intelligence (INT): 9
Willpower (WIL): 18
Perception (PER): 8
Luck (LCK): 1
[Elemental Affinities: None]
[Skills: None]
Nox just stared at it.
'What the actual fuck is this?' he wondered.
Level? EXP? Stats?
His eyes scanned the numbers. Strength 6? Agility 7? He had no idea what the scale was, but those numbers felt incredibly low, pathetic even.
'this can't be...,' he thought bitterly.
But then he saw it… Willpower: 18.
That particular stat was way higher than the others. Eighteen. He didn't know if that was good, but it was definitely different.
And then there was Luck: 1. Just one.
He almost laughed out loud again. Of course, his luck was one. What else could it possibly have been?
Before he could even begin to make sense of those numbers, the text shifted again, more words appearing below the stat block.
[New Mission Issued!]
[Mission: First Steps]
[Objective: The fabric of reality has torn. Creatures from other dimensions are invading through localized dungeon outbreaks. Your school is one such site. Save ten (10) survivors.]
[Time Limit: None]
[Penalty for Failure: None]
[Reward for Success (per save): +10 EXP]
[Bonus Reward (for completing 10 saves): Unlock First Elemental Affinity]
He read the mission details once, then twice.
'Save ten survivors? Me?'
The words simply didn't compute. He was standing in a room he had just filled with dead people – his classmates, his teacher.
Their blood was staining his shoes, probably on his hands too, caked under his fingernails. And this… this 'system' thing actually wanted him to save people?
It had to be some kind of sick joke.
'Dungeon outbreaks? Creatures from other dimensions?'
It sounded like something straight out of one of those stupid video games the other kids used to talk about, the ones he could never afford. But the shaking ground, the bizarre sky, and the impossible blue letters – none of that felt like a game.
And the screams from outside were definitely getting louder, more desperate, now mixed with other sounds – guttural, animalistic noises he couldn't quite place.
'No penalty for failure.' That part of the mission details stuck out to him.
So he could just… not do it.
He could just stay right here, in this quiet room, until whatever was happening out there finally ended. Or until it got him too.
A big part of him, the tired, empty part, desperately wanted that.
'Just let it end,' that part of him pleaded.
Then he focused on other lines: 10 EXP per save. Unlock First Elemental Affinity.
He had no clue what an 'elemental affinity' was, but "unlock" certainly sounded like getting something.
Something new. EXP… that usually meant getting stronger in those games, didn't it?
'Stronger.' The thought settled like a small, hard pebble in the pit of his stomach.
If he was stronger, maybe he wouldn't be so helpless anymore. Maybe he wouldn't be a target.
Maybe.
The screams outside spiked again, one particular voice rising in a pure shriek of agony before being abruptly, chillingly cut off.
That sound did something to him.
It wasn't pity; he didn't think he had any of that left in him. But it was… urgent and horrifyingly real.
The mission details were still hanging in the air before him.
His eyes moved to the revolver still clutched tightly in his hand.
It was empty; he knew it was. He had pulled the trigger repeatedly until it just clicked, until that horrible, beautiful silence had finally fallen.
But then he remembered shoving a few extra bullets, loose, into the same dirty rag he'd used to wrap the gun. They were from old man's box too, just rolling around loose in the bottom of it.
He fumbled with his school bag on the floor, his other hand still gripping the gun. He pushed aside textbooks and a cracked ruler.
There. His fingers brushed against the the rag, and he pulled it out. He took out the bullets and looked at them, not many left.
He counted them carefully: one, two, three, four… five.
Just five bullets.
'Five chances to… save someone?'
The thought felt utterly stupid, almost laughable given the circumstances.
The system thing had said 10 EXP per save, and then something about an 'Elemental Affinity' if he actually managed to save ten people. Whatever the hell that was.
But why should he even try?
Why should he risk his neck for anyone in this piece of shit school, or for this whole piece of shit world that was apparently ending around him?
No one had ever lifted a goddamn finger for him. Not the teachers with their stupid, dismissive smiles, not the bored cops, not a single adult at the orphanage who saw the bruises and just looked the other way.
They had all watched him get beaten down, get broken, bit by bit, every single day. Some of them, like Davies, had even seemed to enjoy the show.
So screw them. Screw all of them. He could just find a place to hide, wedge himself in a closet somewhere, and wait it out.
The mission even said it right there on the floating screen: 'Penalty for Failure: None'.
So, there would be no punishment if he just let them all die out there.
It was tempting, so damn tempting to just curl up next to these bodies and let whatever was coming, come. To just let it all end. The tired, empty part of him screamed for that release.
But then… there was a spark inside him. It wasn't hope; he was pretty sure he didn't have any of that left in him.
It was more like… a memory, unwanted but persistent, surfacing in his mind.
Old Mrs. Gable, the orphanage cook, came to mind. She was ancient, her hands all twisted up from years of hard work, but sometimes, when the other staff weren't looking, she would slip him an extra piece of bread – usually stale – or a slightly less bruised apple from the bottom of the box.
She never said much, never asked him anything personal. She just gave him this quick, tired little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but it wasn't mean. It wasn't anything like the other faces he knew.
There was that kid, Leo, from a few years back. He was scrawny and quiet, always drawing in a little, beat-up notebook.
Leo had once tried to share his lunch with him, right after Lex and his goons had stomped Nox's own meager meal into the dirt by the bins.
Nox had just stared at him then, full of suspicion, waiting for the trick, the inevitable laugh. But Leo hadn't backed down; he had just pushed the small, slightly squashed sandwich towards him with a shy look.
'They weren't all complete monsters,' a small, hesitant voice whispered in the back of his wrecked mind. It was a voice he hadn't heard in a long, long time.
Most of them, yeah, they were bastards, or worse, they just didn't care. But not every single one.
Mrs. Gable and Leo are a good example.
Maybe there were others like them still out there, caught in whatever hell was currently unfolding outside this classroom – people who weren't laughing, people who were screaming for real.
He looked down at the five bullets sitting in him palm. Each one was a tiny weight of possibility.
Maybe they were enough for five saves, if he was ridiculously lucky. But that luck stat clearly had other plans.
The screams from the hallway were still going, clearer now, more ragged and mixed with them, he could distinctly hear other sounds – wet, tearing noises, and snarls that made the hairs on his arms stand on end.
He didn't want to die. He was pretty sure about that, even now, amidst all this chaos.
But if he did nothing, if he just hid like a rat while the world tore itself apart around him, what was the point of even being alive in whatever came next?
He felt like he was already dead inside anyway, didn't he? That empty, hollow feeling certainly wasn't new.
Maybe this was a chance. Not to be some kind of hero; that was a load of bullshit reserved for movies.
But it was a chance to not be helpless. For once in his miserable life.
To actually do something. Anything. Even if it was just for himself, for that 'EXP' and that 'Elemental Affinity' the system promised.
Finally, he opened his mouth, his voice raspy.
"Let's give it a shot."