- System's Heir : A School of Secrets

May jolted awake, gasping for breath. Her chest heaved, each inhale a desperate struggle against the suffocating weight of fear. She was alive. She was still here. But how?

The room swam before her eyes, a hazy landscape of familiar shadows and objects. The stale scent of her apartment, a mixture of dust and old books, washed over her like a wave of nausea. The flickering light from the streetlamp outside cast elongated shadows on the wall, dancing like phantoms in the darkness.

She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. Her neck ached, a throbbing reminder of the rope that had nearly ended her life. She glanced around, a wave of confusion washing over her.

The rope. Where was the rope?

It was then that her gaze fell upon the book that lay open on her bed, a tattered fantasy novel she had planned to read earlier that night. It was the one she had been reading before her world went dark, a tale of a weak male protagonist who was betrayed by his family and friends, abandoned in a perilous dungeon.

The book lay open to a scene that seemed to burn itself onto her memory: a dungeon dimly lit by flickering torches, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and decaying flesh. The scent was so vivid, so real, that it felt like she was right there, trapped in the depths of the dungeon with the protagonist.

The scene was one of betrayal and despair. The hero, once a warrior of great strength, had been reduced to a shadow of his former self, his spirit crushed by the weight of his loneliness. He had been abandoned by his companions, left for dead in a dungeon infested with monstrous creatures.

May recalled the scene in the book where the male protagonist, along with his team, was escaping from a horde of orcs and goblins. The air was thick with the stench of rotting flesh, the ground trembling beneath their feet. The monstrous roars of the orcs echoed through the tunnels, a terrifying symphony of primal rage.

In their desperate flight, a heavy stone slab rolled down, pinning the protagonist's leader, the one he thought of as a brother, to the ground. The hero, desperate to save his leader, reached out to him, his voice choked with desperation.

"No! Don't leave me!" he cried, his heart pounding in his chest.

The leader, his face pale with fear, only glanced at the hero, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating indifference. He didn't even acknowledge the hero's pleas. He simply turned and fled, leaving his comrade to a slow, agonizing death.

The scene was so realistic, so filled with raw emotion, that May felt as if she were right there, witnessing the hero's betrayal, experiencing the pain and anguish firsthand.

The hero, abandoned and left for dead, was then overwhelmed by the horde of orcs and goblins. In his final moments, he looked up at the sky, a single tear rolling down his cheek, and wished for a system, a magical force to intervene, a power to save him from his fate.

He wished for something beyond his comprehension, something that could give him strength, something that could turn him from a weakling into a hero.

May, clutching the book, felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The scene, the hero's despair, his longing for a system, it all felt so familiar, so eerily close to her own experience.

The voice. The system.

She remembered the voice that had spoken to her before she blacked out, the voice that had whispered of a system, a power beyond comprehension.

It felt like a dream, an impossible hallucination, a cruel trick played by her own mind.

But then, she saw it.

The rope.

It lay coiled on the floor next to her bed, a tangible reminder of her failed suicide attempt. The cold, hard metal of the hook that had been attached to the ceiling beam was still embedded in the rope.

It was real.

She had been dead. Or at least, she had thought she was dead.

And then she felt it, a tingling sensation that ran through her veins. A warm current of energy flowed through her body, a surge of power unlike anything she had ever experienced.

She was alive. And something inside her had changed.

May pushed herself up from the cold, hard floor, her body protesting with a series of creaks and groans. She instinctively reached for her glasses, a familiar ritual she performed countless times a day, but her hand met only empty air. A wave of confusion washed over her. Where were her glasses?

She fumbled around, her fingers brushing against the familiar, worn carpet of her bedroom. Then, her hand closed around something familiar – her oversized, thick-rimmed glasses. She picked them up, brushed them against her shirt, a habit she'd developed to keep the lenses clean, and placed them back on her face.

But as soon as she did, the world exploded in a dizzying kaleidoscope of distorted colors. Everything seemed to shimmer and warp, edges blurring into a hazy, undefined mass.

She quickly removed the glasses. Her vision was immediately clear, sharp, and focused. The familiar posters on her wall, the books stacked precariously on her desk, everything was in perfect focus, as if her vision had been magically enhanced.

She was seeing without her glasses.

A cold dread settled in her stomach, tightening her insides like a vice. Something was terribly wrong. Something was terribly, terrifyingly wrong.

The apartment felt cold, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of her attempted suicide. A shiver ran down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She tugged her worn, oversized hoodie tighter, a thin barrier against the sudden chill. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong, that something had shifted in the very fabric of her reality.

"What if... what if I just need new glasses?" she mumbled to herself, her thoughts flitting between the absurdity of the situation and a growing, uneasy suspicion. "Maybe it's just a side effect of...of..."

The word "suicide" hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable, a shadow cast by her recent near-death experience. She shuddered, pushing the thought away.

"I can't live like this," she declared, her voice calm above a whisper. "I need a new glasses."

The apartment walls seemed to close in on her, a physical manifestation of the claustrophobia that had been her constant companion for years. She grabbed her worn, oversized hoodie, a flimsy shield against the cold, and her well-worn worn backpack, a familiar weight on her back.

Her feet carried her down the stairs, down the dark, narrow hallway, and into the night. The familiar scent of damp concrete and stale cigarette smoke filled her nostrils. The city lights, a shimmering tapestry of yellow and orange, seemed both beautiful and terrifying.

The streets were deserted, a quiet symphony of rustling leaves and the distant hum of a passing car. She walked, lost in her thoughts, her feet following the worn pavement as if on autopilot.

Her gaze fell on a 24-hour convenience store at the corner, a beacon of light in the darkness. Hope flickered in her chest, a fragile flame in the cold night air. Maybe they had glasses there.

The bell above the door chimed as she entered, the sound echoing in the small, brightly lit space. The air was thick with the scent of microwaved popcorn and hot dogs, a familiar aroma from countless late-night study sessions. The sound of the refrigerator hummed, a low, mechanical drone that somehow felt strangely comforting.

She scanned the aisles, her eyes searching for the familiar rows of glasses, the promise of clarity and normalcy.

There they were, nestled beside the stacks of discounted novels and cheap magazines. But they were all small, delicate frames, a far cry from the oversized spectacles that had been her constant companion.

She tried a few pairs, feeling the familiar sting of frustration as the world blurred around her.

"This is useless," she muttered, tossing the last pair back on the shelf. She turned to leave, a wave of discouragement washing over her.

She didn't see them at first, but the unsettling feeling returned, a tightening in her chest, a cold dread that wrapped around her like a shroud.

She saw the cashier, an elderly man with a kind face, his eyes wide with fear. His hands were shaking as he reached for the phone.

And she saw them: three masked figures, their eyes glittering with a dark, unsettling light.

May's heart hammered against her ribs as she stumbled out of the convenience store, a wave of unease washing over her. The air crackled with an invisible energy, a strange tension that seemed to cling to the humid air. She dismissed it as an odd feeling, a byproduct of the day's surreal events, and continued walking.

As she turned the corner, her breath caught in her throat. A holographic screen materialized before her, pulsing with an otherworldly glow. It wasn't your typical smartphone screen or a flickering tablet display. This was a system interface, a digital tableau straight out of her favorite fantasy novels, but with a chilling reality that made her blood run cold. It was a system, something beyond human comprehension, and it was staring back at her.

The screen throbbed with a stark warning, a pulsating, crimson icon in its center, the color of danger. It was accompanied by a countdown timer, ticking away precious seconds in a digital font that looked as if it was carved from ice.

[ "Warning: Active Quist Detected." ]

[ "Target: Elderly Cashier." ]

[ "Threat Level: High." ]

[ "Threat Count: 3." ]

[ "Quist Time Remaining: 50 Minutes." ]

[ "Penalty for Failure: Status Degradation." ]

The world around her dissolved into a pixelated blur. The air crackled with energy, a chaotic symphony of digital pulses and static. Her mind, still reeling from the shock of her near-death experience, struggled to comprehend the impossible.

This was real. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a fantasy.

May felt a shiver run down her spine. She desperately wanted to rub her eyes, to dismiss the screen as an elaborate hallucination, but the icy reality of the situation was undeniable. The timer continued its relentless countdown, mocking her with each passing second.

The holographic screen shifted, revealing a view of the store's interior. It was a live feed, capturing the scene in chilling detail. A frail elderly man, his face pale and drawn, stood trembling at the cashier. Three imposing figures, their faces obscured by shadows, loomed over him, their menacing silhouettes making them seem like monstrous creatures..

The air around May seemed to crackle with a dark energy. The system's words, cold and calculating, sent a wave of panic through her. The prospect of protecting a frail old man from three thugs seemed impossible, utterly terrifying. She, a weak, She was a nobody, a girl who spent her days lost in books and her nights battling insomnia, a girl who preferred the comfort of anonymity to the chaos of the real world. And was expected to be a hero?

But...

But, a strange, unexpected flicker of excitement sparked in her chest. A smile, at first hesitant, began to stretch across her face, slowly morphing into a wide, manic grin. This was it. This was her chance. This was the escape she'd been yearning for. To finally be free from the unbearable weight of her existence, to vanish from the world that had treated her so unkindly.

"Is this what I wanted?" she whispered to herself, her smile widening into a cruel, unsettling curve. "Isn't this the ultimate escape? To succumb to the abyss, to finally be free from this life, this pain, this constant struggle? Maybe..."

She felt a thrill course through her veins, a strange blend of fear and exhilaration. The countdown timer on the screen ticked away, its digital digits a grim reminder of the approaching deadline. The system had presented her with a macabre choice - a chance to be a hero, a chance to disappear, a chance to finally be free.

May started to walk back towards the store, her steps heavy with a newfound purpose. It was the same purpose that had taken root in her apartment, the same desire for oblivion that had consumed her. Even the arrival of the system, the strange, alien power that offered her a chance, hadn't shaken her from her despair. She still craved the ultimate escape, the finality of nonexistence. The world was too cruel, she reasoned, and this was her way out, her way to finally be free.

Then, the holographic screen flickered, a new message appearing, a chilling addition to the system's warning.

"Quist Failure will result in the death of your dearest kin."

The air seemed to crackle, the silence broken by the sharp intake of her breath. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in her ears.

Her dearest kin? Who was that? Who could it be?

The system hadn't provided any context. It didn't offer a name, a face, or a detail. It was just a chilling, blunt statement that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her mother? She was far away, her life consumed by her own struggles, her existence a distant echo in May's memory.

No, it couldn't be her mother. The system's message felt too personal, too specific. It wasn't a faceless threat; it was a targeted blow, a strike aimed at the heart of her being.

It had to be... him. Her brother. The brother who had been a constant presence in her childhood, a source of laughter and comfort, a confidante she had always confided in.

Her brother, who had vanished from her life years ago, leaving a gaping hole in her heart, a lingering sense of loss that had become a constant companion.

The brother she had tried to forget, the brother who had become a ghost in her memory, the brother who had been the embodiment of her pain and loneliness.

He was gone. He was far away.

May froze in place, rooted to the spot by the sudden appearance of the system's new message. It was so unexpected, so cruel. Just when she thought she was finally ready to embrace oblivion, the system threw this wrench into her plans.

She closed her eyes, willing the fear away, trying to find some semblance of control in the maelstrom that had become her life. She had to think rationally, to make a plan, to act.

But how? What could she possibly do? She was a nobody, a bookish recluse, a girl who had spent her life avoiding confrontation, hiding in the shadows of her own anxieties.

And now, she was faced with a threat, a danger, a situation that required strength, courage, and a skill set she had never possessed.

She was a nobody, yet the system had chosen her.

The system had given her a purpose.

She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the stale air of the convenience store, the scent of microwaved popcorn and hot dogs a strange, comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions.

She glanced at the cashier, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. He was counting the seconds, waiting for the inevitable. His gaze met hers, and a silent plea passed between them. He was asking her to leave, to walk away, to save herself. But May knew she couldn't.

She saw them, the masked figures, their forms silhouetted in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with a sinister hunger. They were the threat, the danger, the reason for the system's warning. Their presence radiated menace, their bodies tense with anticipation, poised to strike. They were the embodiment of the darkness that had consumed May's life.

She had to stop them.

She had to save him.

She had to protect this dearest kin.

But how? What could a nobody like her do?

A wave of panic threatened to engulf her, to drown her in a sea of fear and helplessness. But then, a flicker of defiance ignited in her chest, a spark of determination that seemed to burn away the fear.

She was a nobody, but she had the system. She had the Quist. She had the power to change everything.

And she was going to use it.

She took a step forward, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind focused on the goal. She had to save him.

She had to make a choice.

And she was going to choose to fight.

"Whatever happens, it's okay," she whispered to herself, and stepped back into the store, her resolve solidifying with each step.

She knew the danger, she knew the risk, but she had no choice. She has to act.

The air in the store felt thick with tension, a silent scream trapped in the confines of the fluorescent lighting. The two figures, shrouded in shadows, were oblivious to her arrival, their attention fixed on the trembling old man at the counter.

May moved with a newfound confidence, a quiet determination that surprised even herself. Her heart pounded a rapid beat, a rhythm of fear and resolve. She knew she wasn't prepared for this, she didn't know how to fight, but the system had given her a purpose. It had given her a reason to be more than just a nobody.

[ " Time remaining: 30 Minutes " ]

[ " Protect the Target " ]

[ "Penalty for Failure: Status Degradation." ]

[ " Additional: "Quist Failure will result in the death of your dearest kin." ]