Another week had passed. One more in this hellish routine that had imposed itself on us. Each day, each hour, each battle blended into a spiral of violence and fatigue, the end of which we never saw.
The group lived with a dull, omnipresent fear. It didn't always manifest in screams or visible tremors, but rather in long silences, evasive glances, restless nights where no one really slept.
It wasn't just the fear of the monsters lurking in the dark, nor the fear of being devoured or pierced by an unknown creature. No, it was something more insidious. The fear of the unknown, of what we were becoming.
Each day, we changed. Our instincts took over, our humanity crumbled, slowly but surely. We were no longer mere survivors; we were warriors shaped by a world that left no room for weakness.
But then, where was the limit? When would we stop being men and become nothing but beasts, driven by the sole desire to live one more day?
No one dared to ask the question out loud. But I knew we were all thinking about it.
The Xylorath... These evil, cruel creatures were no longer a surprise to us. We knew almost all of them by now. Each species, each mutation, each horror inspired by earthly beasts we had already faced. They had become our daily reality. Their howl, their putrid smell, the feeling of their flesh giving way under our weapons... all of it was part of us now.
But it wasn't without consequence.
I felt the weight of this rhythm. My body was heavy, every muscle burning under the relentless effort. My mind, confused, wavered between exhaustion and the cold clarity imposed by the necessity of survival. The pain, the constant stress, the poorly treated wounds... and yet, I kept going. Because it had to be done. Because there was no other choice. Not here. Not in this world.
The group had become my only lifeline. An anchor I clung to desperately, even though I knew that, in time, I risked dragging them down with me in my fall. Each of them carried their own pain, their own fears, and yet, they were there. They had accepted me. They had supported me. And as the days passed, the more I feared I had become a burden. A weight they carried with as much resignation as I did.
On the battlefield, I was indispensable. A key piece of our survival. But outside of it… I was nothing but an empty shell, a broken spirit. A man who no longer knew what to do with himself once the adrenaline faded. I held on because of them. Because of our conversations, those stolen moments between battles, that fragile camaraderie that kept us all standing.
But my nights, they shortened a little more each day.
At first, I took longer shifts, claiming to be more vigilant at night. The others had opposed it, worried for my health, but over time, they had come to understand. They knew that, no matter what they said, I wouldn't sleep. So, what was the point of insisting?
Only Lucas stayed by my side during those silent vigils.
We talked a lot.
Through those long nights, I had learned things. Details I hadn't taken into account before. That entity I had glimpsed before our arrival… It had presented itself as a God of this world. An all-powerful entity that had spoken to the summoned, giving them terrifying orders: they were to kill each other, survive the monsters, improve their abilities, grow stronger…
Some had protested.
Idiots.
They had believed they could refuse, oppose a will far beyond their comprehension. And they had been massacred. Seven of them, executed without hesitation.
Seven deaths right after the summoning.
I hadn't witnessed this carnage, but thinking back, I wondered… was it the massacre I had glimpsed? That bloodbath that haunted my nights?
And that number…
Seven.
Why did it keep coming back?
Seven people killed by the entity. Seven thousand seven hundred seventy-seven remaining summoned. Seven classes each assigning seven points of stats.
Coincidence?
Or something deeper?
These thoughts sometimes came back, pulling me out of my anxiety and plunging me into a sterile reflection. Seeking meaning where there might be none. But deep down, these speculations didn't matter. They wouldn't help me survive. They wouldn't give me any answers.
They wouldn't change this hell.
And yet, I kept thinking about it.
One of my biggest regrets was not investing more points into my mental strength. It was my greatest weakness.
I had bet everything, or almost everything, on speed. So much so that my movements defied the human eye. I glided through the shadows like an elusive ghost, insubstantial, carried by an almost supernatural agility.
My camouflage skill only accentuated this illusion. I disappeared, becoming a mirage, a breath of wind slipping between the cracks of this brutal world.
A ghost.
That's what I had become. A ghost of flesh and blood, moving silently through this hell. Sometimes, this thought made me smile, a bitter laugh echoing inside me.
But a ghost cannot run from its own demons. And I lacked the strength to face them.
Everything calmed down when Lucas spoke to me.
His voice, gentle and steady, was like a balm on my exhausted mind. He told me stories from his life before, about his family, about what he liked on Earth. Seemingly insignificant details, but in this hell, they took on an invaluable importance. Through his tales, I found a fragment of humanity, a glimmer in the oppressive darkness of our existence.
Little by little, I had grown attached to him. Lucas had become what I had never had: a little brother.
He watched over me in his own way. Sometimes, rocked by his stories, I would end up falling asleep without realizing it. He would then take care not to wake me, entrusting my watch to someone else, never complaining. He was a being with an enormous heart, a boy of rare kindness, in a world that didn't deserve a soul like his.
So, I made a promise to myself.
I would protect him. No matter the cost. Even at the risk of my life.
He deserved it. He, who took care of me when I was supposed to be the eldest. He, who despite his own fear, still found the strength to be a refuge for others.
I had to make him survive.
I would become a monster to protect him.
In truth, maybe I already was... I thought, amused by the irony of the situation. A bitter laugh escaped me. If it wasn't my body bearing the marks of this madness, it was my mind. More twisted, more broken than any creature wandering this world.
Another week passed. It had now been three weeks since we were plunged into this hell. It was no longer about adapting, but about surviving, and especially about hunting. We had made a decision: track and kill anything that would allow us to progress. Our goal was clear: reach level 10.
We were all stuck at level 9. Every step forward had become a true ordeal. The chimera had propelled us, making us gain nearly three levels in a single battle. But since then, no monster of that magnitude had crossed our path. The further we went, the more each level seemed like an insurmountable wall.
Faced with this stagnation, we had decided to take the initiative. Waiting for a worthy monster to come to us was no longer an option. We were going to change hunting grounds, explore new areas, and find a place where the creatures matched our ambitions.
The next night, while we were on our usual guard duty, I found myself once again with Lucas, my constant partner. The night watches were long, silent, but for some time, there had been this sort of budding camaraderie between him and me. At first, I hadn't paid attention, but gradually, we had started to open up to each other. He had opened his heart to me, and I tried to do the same. That night, the tension seemed less intense, and despite the muffled sounds of the forest and the wind whistling through the trees, there was a certain lightness between us.
"Do you know, I can't stop thinking about her," Lucas said, staring at the fire, his face marked by the dancing shadows of the flames. "My girlfriend... she stayed back there, on Earth. I hope she's safe... Do you think she's okay?"
I looked at him for a moment, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. He had never talked about her before. "I think she misses you as much as you miss her," I replied softly, not knowing quite what to say. "But... you need to stay focused here, Lucas. We have no choice but to fight. We'll find her, or at least, we have to fight for that."
"I know," he said, a slightly sad smile on his lips. "I think about her every night. Every time I hear a noise, I tell myself... maybe it's her who needs me. But here... here, we have to hold on. That's all we can do."
I nodded, lost in my thoughts. Solitude and suffering, I understood them well. We had all left something, someone behind. I didn't know if what we were doing here still had any meaning. But at least Lucas hadn't given up hope. And that gave me a strange form of comfort, an illusion of normalcy in this chaos.
But suddenly, a sound tore through the night. A high-pitched, whistling noise cutting through the air. Before I could react, an arrow flew through the air in a flash, and struck Lucas directly in the eye. Time seemed to freeze, my mind trying to grasp what had just happened, but there was no doubt: Lucas had fallen.
His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, the earth quickly staining red, and I froze. The sight of his glazed eyes tore through my soul. His last words echoed in my head, and I stood there, motionless, unable to move.
"Lucas... no, no, NO!" I rushed to him, but it was too late. The damage was done. There was nothing to be done.
The sounds in the forest around us grew louder, but all I could hear was the dull thumping of my heart.