The System's demand burned in Alex's vision, stark blue against the flickering emergency lights and the encroaching shadows: [Choose Your Path! Select Your Starting Class:]. Below it, the options pulsed faintly: Warrior, Mage, Ranger, Rogue. A permanent choice. Outside, the guttural snarls of the Shadow Hounds intensified, punctuated by the splintering crack of the makeshift barricade giving way. Screams echoed in the cavernous lobby. Time had run out.
Alex's mind raced, processing the options with the speed of a gamer analyzing a complex skill tree under pressure, but overlaid with the chilling weight of real-world consequences.
Warrior: Frontline tank. High Strength and Vitality. Needed for direct confrontation, especially against bigger threats. But, he thought, glancing at his flimsy kitchen knife and T-shirt, I have no armor, no shield, a pathetic weapon. Pure melee right now feels like suicide.
Mage: Ranged elemental power. Intelligence and Mana focused. Huge potential for crowd control and damage from afar. But what are the starting spells? How fast does MP regenerate? I'm useless if I run out of juice or if they close the distance. And he was already low on MP just from existing.
Ranger: Ranged physical damage with bows, plus survival utility. Dexterity and Perception. Great versatility, staying out of melee, potentially tracking or traps later. But I don't have a bow. And are survival skills useful right now in this concrete lobby?
Rogue: Stealth, speed, precision strikes. Agility and Dexterity. Capitalizes on weakness, evasion, hit-and-run. Synergizes with the knife proficiency I just learned, he realized. Good for moving unseen, maybe escaping if things go south. But can I handle multiple enemies? Can I deal enough damage?
He glanced at the chaos erupting around him. The Shadow Hounds, sleek and terrifyingly fast, were shouldering their way through the collapsing barricade of furniture. Frank, the security guard, was yelling ineffectually. Henderson, the businessman, swung his tire iron with panicked energy but little accuracy. Maya, the young woman with the fire extinguisher, braced herself, fear etched on her face but her grip firm. Ben, the student, had pressed himself against the far wall, eyes wide with terror.
Direct confrontation looked messy and desperate. Magic felt like an unknown quantity. Ranger felt impractical without equipment. Rogue… Rogue felt like survival. Like adapting. Like using the shadows and the chaos, much like the hounds themselves. It fit the knife. It fit the need to move.
His finger, phantom though it was, tapped the air over the word 'Rogue' on the ethereal screen.
'Select Rogue!' he thought, focusing his intent.
[Class Selected: Rogue]
[Calculating Stat Adjustments based on Latent Potential…]
[+3 Agility, +2 Dexterity, +1 Perception allocated.]
[Stamina Bar Unlocked: 100/100]
[Skill Learned: Flicker Step (Active) - Rank 1/10]
[Cost: 5 Stamina. Effect: Short, instantaneous dash in chosen direction. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
[Skill Learned: Lethality (Passive) - Rank 1/10]
[Effect: Grants a minor chance to critically hit with light weapons. Slightly increases critical damage.]
The UI updated instantly. New stats appeared below his HP/MP bars – AGI, DEX, PER, along with others like STR, VIT, INT still at their base levels. A new yellow bar, labeled STA, materialized beneath his blue MP bar, full. He felt… different. Not overtly stronger, but lighter on his feet somehow, his senses seeming marginally sharper, the chaotic scene infinitesimally clearer. The knowledge of the new skills, Flicker Step and Lethality, bloomed in his mind not as text, but as instinctive understanding. He knew how to activate the dash, how much energy it would take.
There was no time to analyze further. The first Shadow Hound, a creature of nightmare made tangible, squeezed through the wreckage of the barricade and launched itself towards the nearest target – Henderson.
Henderson yelled, swinging the tire iron wildly. The hound, impossibly fast, ducked under the clumsy swing, jaws snapping shut on the businessman's leg with a sickening crunch of fabric and flesh. He screamed, falling backward, dropping the tire iron.
"Henderson!" Frank shouted, moving forward hesitantly.
Another hound darted through the gap, ignoring Frank and heading straight for the terrified couple clinging to each other near the reception desk.
Chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos.
Alex reacted. No time for conscious thought, just instinct honed by his new Class and the surge of adrenaline. The hound attacking Henderson was momentarily occupied. The second hound was closing in on the helpless couple.
'Flicker Step!' he activated the skill, directing it sideways, towards the second hound.
The world lurched. For a fraction of a second, he felt an odd, pulling sensation, and then he was simply there, five feet to the right of where he'd been standing, the movement almost faster than his eyes could track. The 5-point Stamina cost registered as a minor dip in the new yellow bar.
He was now positioned slightly behind and to the side of the second hound as it lunged for the couple. Its shadowy form was momentarily exposed. His [Basic Knife Proficiency] and the new [Lethality] passive screamed opportunity. He drove the chef's knife forward, aiming for the shadowy flank, mimicking a backstab motion from Aethelgard's.
[Lethality Activated! Critical Hit!]
[Damage Dealt: 38 HP!]
The hound yelped, a surprised, painful sound, stumbling as the knife bit deep into its ethereal-yet-solid flank. It wasn't a killing blow – he had no idea how much HP these things had – but it was significant. More than his previous hits on the goblin. The Rogue class worked.
The creature spun, abandoning the couple, its burning red eyes locking onto Alex with sheer hatred. It snarled, revealing rows of shadow-like teeth.
Meanwhile, Maya had reacted with surprising presence of mind. Seeing Henderson down, she aimed the fire extinguisher and sprayed a thick white cloud of C02 directly at the first hound's face as it worried the businessman's leg. The hound recoiled, blinded and choking, momentarily releasing its grip. Frank, seeing his chance, grabbed the dropped tire iron and swung it desperately, connecting with the creature's shadowy skull with a dull thud.
[Frank's Action: Damage Dealt: 12 HP!]
Alex registered the thought automatically – Frank deals damage? Does everyone deal damage? Or just damage potential? How does the System quantify non-player actions? – but shoved it aside. The second hound was lunging at him.
He sidestepped, the +3 Agility making the movement feel slightly more fluid than before. The hound's claws raked the air where he'd been. He ducked under a snapping bite, the creature's foul breath washing over him. It was terrifyingly fast, much quicker than the goblin.
"Its health is low! Focus fire!" Alex yelled, forgetting himself for a moment, calling out game terminology.
Frank and Maya, busy with the first hound, didn't seem to register his specific words, but the urgency in his voice spurred them. Frank swung the tire iron again at the first hound, while Maya blasted another cloud from the extinguisher, trying to keep it disoriented.
Alex focused on his own fight. He needed to be faster, smarter. He used Flicker Step again (Stamina: 90/100), not to attack, but to reposition, putting a fallen reception chair between himself and the hound. It bought him a precious second. He scanned the creature. Any weak spots? Its eyes glowed brightest – maybe aim there?
The hound leaped over the chair. Alex dropped low, thrusting the knife upwards in a desperate gamble. He felt the blade scrape against something hard – bone or its shadowy equivalent – before glancing off. The hound landed, snapping at his face. He threw himself backward, landing awkwardly on his hip. Pain flared, but his UI showed no HP loss from the fall itself.
Suddenly, Ben, the student who had been cowering, let out a yell. He'd picked up a heavy glass vase from a display stand and hurled it with surprising force. It shattered harmlessly against the hound's flank, but the sudden noise and impact startled the creature for a vital half-second.
Alex seized the chance. Scrambling to his feet, he lunged under the hound's snapping jaws, plunging the knife deep into its shadowy underbelly, twisting the blade with savage intent learned from countless game finishers.
[Lethality Activated! Critical Hit!]
[Damage Dealt: 45 HP!]
[Shadow Hound - Defeated!]
[EXP Gained: 25]
The hound convulsed, letting out a final, strangled yelp before its shadowy form seemed to dissipate, melting away into wisps of black smoke that vanished entirely within seconds. It just… disappeared? No corpse?
A small bar appeared briefly at the bottom of his UI, showing [EXP: 25/100], indicating progress towards Level 2.
He didn't have time to process. The first hound, though wounded by Frank and harassed by Maya, had shaken off the effects of the C02 and lunged again, knocking Frank aside. It turned its attention to Maya, who bravely stood her ground, holding the extinguisher like a shield.
Alex pushed himself up, ignoring the ache in his hip, and charged. He Flicker Stepped behind it (Stamina: 85/100) as Maya sprayed another blast, making it flinch. He stabbed repeatedly at its hind legs and flank.
[Damage Dealt: 12 HP!]
[Damage Dealt: 10 HP!]
[Lethality Activated! Critical Hit! Damage Dealt: 30 HP!]
Frank, recovering quickly, rejoined the fray, bringing the tire iron down hard on the creature's back. Ben, emboldened, threw another heavy object – a desk lamp this time, which also shattered uselessly but added to the distraction.
Under the combined assault, the wounded hound faltered. It let out a mournful howl, then seemed to make a decision. It disengaged, scrambling backward with surprising speed, squeezed back through the broken barricade, and vanished into the darkness outside, leaving only fading wisps of shadow behind.
Silence fell once more, heavy and suffocating, broken only by ragged breathing, Henderson's pained moans, and the erratic buzzing of the lobby lights.
They had survived. Somehow.
The adrenaline drained away almost instantly, leaving Alex feeling weak and shaky, his newly acquired Class and skills suddenly feeling less like empowerment and more like a desperate, flimsy shield against overwhelming horror. He looked at his hands, still gripping the knife. No longer clean steel, but stained dark. He felt sick.
"Henderson! You alright?" Frank rushed over to the fallen businessman, whose face was white with pain, clutching his bleeding leg. The bite looked nasty.
Maya dropped the now-empty fire extinguisher with a clatter, her shoulders slumping as the tension left her. She leaned against the reception desk, breathing heavily, her eyes meeting Alex's across the lobby. There was fear there, yes, but also a sharp, assessing curiosity. He quickly looked away, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. How much had she noticed about his unnatural speed, his precise strikes?
Ben approached cautiously, wide-eyed. "That was… holy crap. You… you moved so fast. And that knife…"
Alex just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He checked his UI again. [HP: 92/100], [MP: 50/50], [STA: 85/100], [EXP: 25/100]. Seeing the numbers, the tangible evidence of the fight and his progress, was bizarrely calming, a small island of quantifiable logic in an ocean of madness. But the memory of the fight, the nearness of death, was chillingly real.
Frank managed to get Henderson propped up against the wall, using his security guard belt as a makeshift tourniquet above the bite wound. "We need real bandages. Antiseptics," Frank grunted, his face grim. "That bite looks bad."
"Told you we should've gone to the garage," Henderson groaned through gritted teeth, though his voice lacked its earlier demanding edge.
"And meet more of those things in the dark down there?" Frank shot back. "No. We need supplies. Meds first. Then food, water. Weapons." He looked around the lobby. "This place isn't safe. That barricade is useless."
Arguments broke out again, quieter this time, tinged with exhaustion and the fresh trauma of the fight. Stay or go? Risk the streets? Try the garage? Secure the upper floors?
Alex mostly tuned it out, his mind racing. His performance in the fight had changed things. He wasn't just another survivor anymore; he was someone who could fight. That brought respect, maybe, but also attention and expectation. And the fact that no one had reacted to his clearly game-like terminology ("HP," "Focus Fire") confirmed his suspicion. He was different. He saw the rules, the numbers. They didn't. This knowledge was power, but also a dangerous secret.
He caught Maya watching him again. He met her gaze this time. "What floor are you on?" he asked, his voice raspy.
"Seventh," she replied quietly. "Came down when the power first went out, looking for my brother. Haven't seen him." Her voice was steady, but her eyes held deep worry.
"Anyone… anyone else see things?" Alex asked, trying to sound casual, probing gently. "Like, weird messages? Screens?"
Maya frowned slightly. "Screens? No. Just… chaos. Saw my neighbor Mrs. Gable just… staring blankly at a wall when one of those… things grabbed her. Didn't even scream. Like she wasn't there." She shivered. "And my cousin called me right before the phones went dead, swore he saw numbers floating over his cat." She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Thought he was losing it."
Alex absorbed this. Blank stares, unresponsive states, seeing numbers – varied reactions. Maybe the 'Awakening' wasn't uniform? Maybe some people glitched out? Maybe his cousin was seeing things? It planted a seed of doubt, a hint that the neat System he saw might not apply equally to everyone, or might manifest differently.
"We need a plan," Frank said, interrupting Alex's thoughts. "We can't stay here. Best bet is to scavenge the lower floors first. Apartments near here. Look for supplies – med kits, food, water, maybe find better weapons than… this." He gestured with the tire iron.
"Split up?" Ben asked nervously. "Doesn't seem smart."
"Smaller groups, quieter," Maya countered logically. "Less likely to attract attention. Two or three per team. We search floors two, three, four. Meet back here in… one hour?"
It sounded risky as hell, but better than sitting ducks in the lobby or making a blind run for the streets. Alex found himself nodding. "Okay. I can take point, maybe scout ahead a little." His Rogue class felt suited for it.
Frank looked relieved to have a plan, however fragile. "Alright. Alex, you take… Maya? You seem capable." Maya nodded curtly. "Ben, you stick with me and the Carsons (the couple). Henderson… you stay put, keep watch as best you can."
Henderson just groaned in response.
Alex checked his knife, took a deep breath, trying to push down the fear. Scavenging nearby apartments. Seemed simple enough. A standard RPG quest objective. But the memory of the goblin, the speed of the hounds, the blood… this wasn't a quest. This was survival.
He nodded at Maya, who had picked up a sturdy-looking table leg to supplement the empty fire extinguisher. "Ready?"
She gave a tight nod, her eyes determined. "Let's go."
Together, they approached the ruined barricade, carefully stepping over the debris. Alex took the lead, peering into the dim, echoing hallway outside the lobby, the silence somehow more threatening than the earlier chaos. Every shadow seemed to pulse with potential danger. Their footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the debris-strewn floor.
Floor Two. Objective: Supplies. Time limit: One hour. Enemies: Unknown. He gripped his knife, the weight of the world – the new world – settling heavily on his Level 1 shoulders.