I made it through the night by not sleeping.
Sixteen hours of constant movement through the marsh, killing three more Stalkers and something that looked like a venus flytrap with legs. Each fight pushed my skills higher—Unarmed Combat hit level 7, Grappling reached level 4, and I'd picked up a new skill called Danger Sense at level 2 when something tried to ambush me from underwater.
The experience gain was absurd. By the time dawn broke over the twisted purple trees, I was level 5.
Then the notification appeared.
**[QUEST COMPLETE: FIRST STEPS]**
**[REWARDS DISTRIBUTED]**
A package materialized at my feet—basic equipment wrapped in oiled cloth. Inside: a simple iron knife, a waterskin, dried rations that looked like compressed sawdust, and a rough wool blanket. Not much, but after a night in the marsh, it felt like luxury.
I was examining the knife when new text scrolled across my vision.
**[PRELIMINARY ASSESSMENT COMPLETE]**
**[CANDIDATE KADE TORREN HAS DEMONSTRATED ACCEPTABLE SURVIVAL CAPABILITY]**
**[FIRST TEST: CLEARED]**
**[TRANSITIONING TO PRIMARY TUTORIAL ENVIRONMENT...]**
The world lurched. Not the smooth transition from Facility 7—this was violent, wrenching, like being grabbed by an invisible hand and yanked sideways through space. The marsh dissolved around me, colors bleeding into each other, and for a moment I existed nowhere, suspended in gray void.
Then reality reassembled itself.
I was standing on a dirt road.
The change was so dramatic I actually staggered. Gone was the oppressive darkness of the marsh, the twisted trees, the constant threat lurking in murky water. Instead: sunlight. Real sunlight, warm on my skin, streaming through leaves that were green and normal. The air smelled like grass and woodsmoke instead of rot and copper.
Ahead, maybe a quarter mile down the road, I could see buildings. A village, surrounded by wooden palisade walls that looked functional rather than decorative. Beyond the village, stretching to the horizon, was forest—dense and dark, but somehow less hostile than the marsh had been.
**[WELCOME TO MILLBROOK VILLAGE]**
**[PRIMARY TUTORIAL HUB - LEVEL RANGE: 1-15]**
**[SAFE ZONE: ACTIVE - NO COMBAT PERMITTED WITHIN VILLAGE BOUNDARIES]**
**[CURRENT POPULATION: 247 RESIDENTS, 8 CANDIDATES]**
Eight other candidates had made it this far. Out of forty-three from Facility 7 alone, and who knew how many others worldwide entering today. The thirty percent survival rate Osei mentioned was starting to make sense.
I walked toward the village, studying my surroundings. The road was well-maintained, packed earth with drainage ditches on either side. Fields stretched out to the left, planted with crops I didn't recognize. To the right, a stream ran clear over smooth stones.
Everything looked *real*. Not like a game environment or simulation. The plants moved naturally in the breeze. A bird—actual bird, not some mutated horror—sang from a nearby tree. If someone had told me this was just another part of Earth, I might have believed them.
As I approached the gates, I saw two guards standing watch. They wore simple leather armor and carried spears, and when I got close enough to see their faces, I stopped.
They looked human. Completely, utterly human. One was an older man, maybe fifty, with graying hair and a scar across his cheek. The other was younger, early twenties, with the kind of slouched posture that said he'd rather be anywhere else.
The older guard straightened as I approached. "Another candidate," he said, voice carrying a slight accent I couldn't place. "You look like you had a rough night."
I glanced down at myself—clothes still damp and stained with marsh muck, dried blood under my fingernails from the Stalkers. "Could say that."
"First test always is. I'm Garren, gate captain. This is Petrus." He gestured to the younger guard, who nodded without much interest. "You'll want to register at the Hall of Records, get yourself situated. Village rules are simple: no fighting, no stealing, no causing trouble. Break them and you're banned from the safe zone. Understand?"
"Understood."
Garren stepped aside, waving me through. "Welcome to Millbrook. Try not to die."
The interior of the village was even more convincing. Cobblestone streets wound between timber-frame buildings—a blacksmith's forge sending up sparks, a general store with actual goods displayed in the window, what looked like an inn with tables visible through open doors. People moved about their business: a woman hanging laundry, two men arguing over the price of grain, children playing some kind of game with sticks and a ball.
None of them looked like NPCs. They moved with individual purpose, had distinct features and expressions. The woman hanging laundry had calluses on her hands and a particular way of pinning the cloth. The arguing men gestured with the passion of people who'd had this same argument before.
I focused on one of the children, and text appeared.
**[ELARA - RESIDENT]**
**[AGE: 9]**
**[OCCUPATION: NONE]**
**[AFFILIATION: MILLBROOK VILLAGE]**
**[QUEST AVAILABILITY: NONE]**
So the system tracked them. But that didn't mean they weren't... what? Real? Simulated? The line was blurring in ways I hadn't expected.
The Hall of Records was a larger building near the village center, marked with a sign showing a book and quill. Inside, I found a middle-aged woman sitting behind a desk covered in ledgers and papers. She looked up as I entered, adjusting wire-frame glasses.
"Candidate?" she asked.
"Yes. I was told to register."
"Name?"
"Kade Torren."
She pulled out a fresh ledger, dipped a quill in ink. "Level?"
"Five."
Her hand paused mid-stroke. She looked at me properly for the first time, eyes narrowing. "You entered last night and you're already level 5?"
"The marsh was... educational."
She stared at me for a long moment, then returned to writing. "Well. That's... unusual. Most candidates limp in here at level 2 or 3 after barely surviving their first test." She finished writing, then pulled out a small metal token and slid it across the desk. "This is your village marker. Keep it on you. It identifies you as a registered candidate with safe zone privileges."
I picked up the token. It was warm, inscribed with symbols that shifted when I looked at them directly.
"Few things you should know," the woman continued. "Safe zone extends to the village boundaries and nowhere else. Step outside, you're fair game for monsters. The forest surrounding Millbrook has threat levels ranging from 1 to 20, with higher-level creatures deeper in. Hunt what you can handle."
"What about quests?"
"Check the board outside the Hall. Community requests get posted there—mostly culling jobs, material gathering, that sort of thing. Residents might also offer personal quests if you build rapport with them. Everything's measured by the system, so you'll get appropriate rewards."
"These residents," I said carefully. "Are they...?"
"Real people? That's a complicated question." She set down her quill, meeting my eyes. "We're conscious. We have memories, desires, fears. Whether that makes us 'real' by your definition is something you'll have to decide. What matters is we're here, and we can help you survive the Tutorial if you treat us decently."
There was an edge to her voice—not hostile, but firm. Like she'd had this conversation before and was tired of being treated as less than human.
"Understood," I said. "What's your name?"
"Mirabel. I run the Hall of Records, manage the quest board, and keep track of candidate progress." A slight smile. "And before you ask—yes, I can offer quests. But I don't know you yet, so you'll have to settle for community work for now."
Fair enough. I thanked her and headed outside to check the quest board.
It was a large wooden board mounted to the Hall's exterior wall, covered in posted notices. I scanned through them:
**[QUEST: WOLF PROBLEM]**
**[POSTED BY: GARREN, GATE CAPTAIN]**
**[OBJECTIVE: REDUCE FOREST WOLF POPULATION BY 10]**
**[REWARD: 50 EXPERIENCE PER WOLF, 500 SILVER]**
**[LEVEL RECOMMENDATION: 3-6]**
**[QUEST: MEDICINAL HERBS]**
**[POSTED BY: ALTHEA, VILLAGE HEALER]**
**[OBJECTIVE: GATHER 20 STALKS OF MOONPETAL FROM THE NORTHERN FOREST]**
**[REWARD: 200 EXPERIENCE, MINOR HEALTH POTION × 3]**
**[LEVEL RECOMMENDATION: 2-5]**
**[QUEST: BANDITS AT THE CROSSROADS]**
**[POSTED BY: VILLAGE COUNCIL]**
**[OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE OR DRIVE OFF BANDIT GROUP NEAR EASTERN TRADE ROUTE]**
**[REWARD: 1000 EXPERIENCE, CHOICE OF WEAPON FROM ARMORY]**
**[LEVEL RECOMMENDATION: 8-12]**
There were a dozen others—varying difficulty, varying rewards. The experience numbers looked standard, which meant with my Paragon multiplier, even the low-level quests would give me significant gains.
I was considering which to take when someone spoke behind me.
"You're new."
I turned. The speaker was a young man, maybe my age, with dark skin and a compound bow slung across his back. He wore leather armor that looked well-used, and his stance had the easy confidence of someone comfortable with violence.
**[JERICHO WADE - CANDIDATE]**
**[LEVEL: 7]**
**[TALENT: HAWKEYE (B RANK)]**
"Came through last night," I said.
His eyes flicked to something in his interface—probably checking my information. His expression shifted, surprise breaking through the casual demeanor. "Level 5 already? And you're... SSS rank?"
So the talent information was visible to other candidates. That was going to be a problem.
"Apparently."
Jericho let out a low whistle. "Damn. The Paragon, it says. I've never even heard of an SSS rank talent." He studied me more carefully. "Ten times multiplier on everything?"
"That's what it says."
"And challenge scaling to match." He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're either going to dominate the Tutorial or get crushed by it. Probably no middle ground."
"Probably not."
"Well, Kade Torren, welcome to Millbrook. There are seven other candidates here besides you and me. Most are playing it safe, taking small quests, leveling slow. With your talent, you could probably blow past all of us in a week."
There was something calculating in the way he said it. Not hostile, but not friendly either. Measuring me, trying to figure out if I was threat or opportunity.
"You got any advice for someone just starting out?" I asked, deflecting.
Jericho considered. "Yeah. Two things. First—the residents aren't NPCs, not really. Treat them like real people and they'll help you. Treat them like quest dispensers and they'll give you the minimum. Second—other candidates can't hurt you in the safe zone, but that doesn't mean they can't screw you over in other ways. Watch your back."
"Noted."
"Good luck, Paragon. Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of each other." He nodded and walked off, heading toward the village gate.
I watched him go, then turned back to the quest board. The wolf quest seemed like a good starting point—straightforward combat, decent experience even before the multiplier, and a chance to test myself against higher-level creatures.
Before I could pull the notice from the board, an older woman approached. She wore an apron stained with various substances and smelled like herbs and something bitter.
"You're looking at the wrong quests," she said without preamble.
I raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"
"Wolves are easy. You want to level fast, you need real challenges." She pulled a different notice from her pocket—one that hadn't been on the board. "I'm Althea. I run the healing house. And I have a problem the village council doesn't want posted publicly."
**[ALTHEA - RESIDENT]**
**[OCCUPATION: HEALER]**
**[AFFILIATION: MILLBROOK VILLAGE]**
**[QUEST AVAILABILITY: AVAILABLE]**
"What kind of problem?"
"The kind that lives in the deep forest and has been killing anyone who goes after the rare herbs I need. Level 12 threat, minimum. Probably higher." She held out the notice. "You're level 5, but that talent of yours... you might actually survive it. And if you do, the reward would be substantial."
I took the paper, read it.
**[QUEST: THE THORNWOOD GUARDIAN]**
**[POSTED BY: ALTHEA]**
**[OBJECTIVE: DEFEAT OR BYPASS THE THORNWOOD GUARDIAN AND RETRIEVE CRIMSON SAGE FROM ITS TERRITORY]**
**[REWARD: 2000 EXPERIENCE, RARE EQUIPMENT, ALTHEA'S FAVOR]**
**[LEVEL RECOMMENDATION: 12-15]**
**[WARNING: HIGH MORTALITY RATE]**
"You're asking me to punch above my weight," I said.
"I'm asking you to use that talent for something worthwhile instead of wasting time on wolves." Althea's eyes were sharp, assessing. "The Guardian is tough, but it's also predictable if you're smart. And you look smart."
I should have said no. Should have taken the safe option, leveled slowly, built up my skills and equipment before taking on something three times my level.
But the Paragon wasn't about safe.
"Tell me everything you know about this Guardian," I said.
Althea smiled. "Come to my workshop. We have planning to do."
As I followed her through the village streets, past residents going about their simulated—or real—lives, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just made either the best or worst decision of my Tutorial experience.
The forest waited beyond the walls, and somewhere in its depths, something strong enough to kill level 12 candidates was waiting.
I was level 5, barely armed, and already hunting prey that should be impossible.
The Paragon's restriction was already taking effect: challenge scaling, pushing me toward fights I wasn't ready for.
But maybe that was the point.
Maybe the only way to become strong enough to matter was to stop measuring what I was ready for and start taking what I needed.
The Tutorial had given me a gift.
Now it was time to see if I could survive using it.