It was dead quiet in the auditorium. The students' stifled sobs and frightened whimpers blended with the metallic smell of blood that permeated the air. Ethan's mind raced as he wiped sweat from his brow with shaking hands. This is no longer merely a game. This is real.
The Harbinger floated casually in the middle of the room, its dreadful smile never fading. Like a connoisseur savoring fine wine, its black eyes drank in the crowd's fear.
It clapped its small hands together and chirped, "Good! Now that I have your full attention, let's get started!"
"You can all call me Mr. Mixie. I'm here to guide you through what comes next." It grinned, hovering lazily. "As mentioned earlier, your world has been chosen to host the God Games. The gods grew bored, you see, and so they selected your planet for their entertainment. But don't worry—they're not completely heartless! In their infinite mercy, they've bestowed upon you the System. It's the tool through which you'll grow stronger. Think of it like an MMORPG. Kill enemies, gain EXP, level up. Leveling means more strength. Simple, right?"
System. Ethan's breath hitched. He needed to check his stats—now. The panel flickered back into existence, its gold highlights casting an eerie glow.
Name: Ethan Kraneal
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Skills: N/A
Patron: N/A
HP: 200/200
Mana: 100/100
Quirk: N/A
Skills: N/A
—-------------------
Strength: 3
Stamina: 2
Speed: 2
Endurance: 1
Vitality: 2
Wisdom: 6
Intelligence: 6
Perception: 3
Ethan nearly sobbed. These were the worst stats he'd ever seen—and he'd played this game for five years. The average male had at least 5 in each stat. The only decent numbers were Wisdom and Intelligence.
"What the hell is this?" someone muttered.
Mr. Mixie laughed, twirling in midair. "Oh, don't look so glum! This is a privilege! Out of countless worlds, yours was chosen for the greatest cosmic spectacle!" It spread its arms wide. "The rules are simple: survive, grow stronger, overcome. Or—" Its smile turned vicious. "—die screaming."
Ethan's mind flashed back to the game. The first phase after this was always the same: The Awakening. Monsters would appear, slaughtering indiscriminately. He needed to get to his apartment—now. Something told him his computer held answers.
"Well then!" Mr. Mixie grinned. "Good luck, everyone!"
With a pop, it vanished.
The room exhaled—except Ethan. His instincts screamed: DANGER.
And he was right.
A nightmare lurched into the auditorium.
The doors exploded inward.
The creature stood on two legs, but its limbs were twisted, as if its bones had been shattered and haphazardly reassembled. Stripped of skin, its body glistened under the fluorescent lights—raw, pulsing muscle. Its eyes were gone, replaced by hollow black pits, scooped clean. With a wet crack, its jaw unhinged, revealing jagged, brown-stained teeth. A guttural groan rattled from its throat, the sound of something trapped in its own rotting flesh.
A girl near the front tripped, her heel slamming against the stage. A metal Stanley cup clattered to the ground—CLANG.
The creature's head snapped toward the noise.
Then—it moved.
One second, it was across the room.
The next, it was on her.
Clawed fingers dug into her shoulders. First came the screaming. Then the tearing. The wet, ripping sounds.
And finally—the blood.
She wasn't just killed.
She was unmade.
The creature lifted its face, the first coppery stench of blood flooding the air.
And the students realized—they were next.