Panic propelled them down the unfamiliar side corridor, away from the unnatural green light and the silent, menacing judgment of the cloaked figures. Alex practically dragged Maya, whose initial shock at his command had given way to a renewed surge of adrenaline, her eyes wide as she glanced back towards the lobby entrance they'd abandoned. Ben scrambled after them, nearly tripping over his own feet, while Mr. Carson half-supported, half-hauled the groaning Henderson along, his wife clinging to his other arm, stifling sobs.
The corridor twisted unexpectedly, morphing from the faux-marble pretense of the main lobby access into starkly utilitarian concrete walls and exposed ceiling pipes. Service hallways. Less visible, perhaps, but also potentially more confusing, a labyrinthine network behind the building's public face. The air here was colder, damper, carrying the scent of dust and disinfectant. The rhythmic chanting faded behind them, swallowed by the turns and the thick fire doors they passed through, though Alex couldn't shake the feeling of unseen eyes watching their retreat.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only two minutes of frantic scrambling, Alex spotted a heavy steel door labeled "Electrical Room - Basement Access". Not ideal, but it looked solid and lockable from the inside.
"In here! Quick!" he hissed, yanking the door open.
They piled inside, slamming the heavy door shut and throwing the thick deadbolt home with a satisfying clunk. They found themselves in a cramped, windowless room filled with humming transformers (some humming louder and more erratically than others, indicating the unstable power grid), junction boxes, and coiled cables thick as Alex's arm. The air buzzed with latent energy, making the hairs on their arms stand on end. It wasn't comfortable, but it felt marginally safer than the hallway.
The moment the door was secured, the fragile composure of the group shattered. Mrs. Carson finally broke down completely, collapsing against her husband in wracking sobs. "Frank... they just left him... those things..."
Henderson slumped against a humming transformer, heedless of the potential danger, cradling his mangled leg. "My leg... gods, the pain... Need a doctor... painkillers..."
Ben slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. "Cultists? Summoning demons? What the hell is happening?"
Alex leaned against the cool metal door, catching his breath, the ache in his side throbbing in time with his pulse. He looked at Maya, who had slumped onto an overturned crate, her face pale but her eyes alert, scanning the cramped room, likely assessing potential threats even here. Their gazes met, a silent acknowledgment of the shared madness they'd survived, the secrets they now carried, and the heavy weight of leaving Frank behind. Guilt gnawed at Alex, but what else could they have done? Attacking those cloaked figures felt like suicide.
While the others succumbed to exhaustion and despair, Alex knew he couldn't afford to. The flashing [LEVEL UP!] notification at the edge of his UI demanded attention. He needed every advantage he could get. Finding a relatively clean corner away from the others, he sat down, closed his eyes for a second to block out the chaotic reality, and focused inward on the System interface.
[You have reached Level 2!]
[All Status Effects Cleared!] (A pleasant surprise – the Shadow Corruption debuff vanished)
[HP/MP/STA Fully Restored!]
[You have 5 Stat Points to Allocate.]
[You have 1 Skill Point to Allocate.]
Full restore? That was huge. He immediately felt the pain in his side lessen, the exhaustion recede slightly, replaced by a faint warmth. His bars glowed reassuringly full: [HP: 110/110], [MP: 50/50], [STA: 100/100]. The base HP increase from leveling and maybe a hidden VIT gain was substantial. Now, the points.
The allocation screen appeared in his mind's eye, listing his current stats (likely base 10s + Rogue bonuses + Level 1 gains he hadn't consciously tracked) and the 5 points waiting.
STR: 10 | VIT: 11 | DEX: 14 | AGI: 14 | INT: 10 | PER: 12 (Estimated current stats after racial/class/level 1 bonuses).
He needed survivability most urgently – VIT. Speed and evasion were crucial for a Rogue – AGI. Damage output and accuracy came from DEX and STR (though Rogue skills likely scaled better with DEX/AGI). Perception helped avoid traps and ambushes. INT… less crucial for him right now.
Decision:
+2 VIT: More HP, more toughness. Essential. (VIT: 13)
+2 AGI: Faster movement, better dodge, faster Flicker Step maybe? Crucial for his style. (AGI: 16)
+1 DEX: Improve knife accuracy, slightly boost crit chance from Lethality. (DEX: 15)
He mentally confirmed the allocation. The numbers updated. He felt another subtle shift, a feeling of being slightly more solid, slightly quicker, his movements infinitesimally more precise. His max HP ticked up again: [HP: 130/130]. Much better.
Now the Skill Point. The interface presented options:
Upgrade [Basic Knife Proficiency] (Rank 1 -> 2): Increase base knife damage/accuracy further.
Upgrade [Flicker Step] (Rank 1 -> 2): Reduce Stamina Cost to 4? Reduce Cooldown to 9s?
Upgrade [Lethality] (Rank 1 -> 2): Increase Crit Chance/Crit Damage?
Learn New Skill: [Stealth] (Rank 1): Active skill, consume STA per second to become harder to detect?
Learn New Skill: [Detect Traps] (Rank 1): Passive/Active? Increase PER temporarily to spot hazards?
Tempting to grab Stealth, the quintessential Rogue skill. But Flicker Step had saved his life multiple times already. Making it cheaper and faster seemed incredibly valuable for both offense and escape. He decided to enhance what already worked.
'Upgrade Flicker Step.'
[Skill Point Allocated to Flicker Step.]
[Flicker Step (Active) - Rank 2/10 Acquired!]
[Cost: 4 Stamina. Effect: Short, instantaneous dash. Cooldown: 9 seconds.]
The description updated. Lower cost, shorter cooldown. Excellent. He felt a surge of satisfaction, a small measure of control reclaimed in this uncontrollable world. He quickly checked his inventory mentally, noting the [Shadow Essence Shard - Uncommon Material]. Looked like a piece of solidified shadow. Crafting? Augmenting? Useless? No way to tell yet. He closed the System interface, the brief immersion in game-like progression ending, dropping him back into the humming, tense reality of the electrical room.
He pushed himself up and walked over to Maya. She was sitting with her back against a large metal cabinet, eyes closed, breathing deeply, though her hand still rested on the hammer beside her. She opened her eyes as he approached, the confusion and fear still swirling within them, but now mixed with a dawning awareness.
"You okay?" Alex asked quietly.
She nodded jerkily. "Yeah. Just... processing." She gestured vaguely at the air in front of her. "This... screen. It's still there. My MP and... Stamina... they're coming back. Slowly." She looked at her hands. "And I felt... warm? When I tried to make the shield again? Nothing happened, but... I felt something."
"Mana Manipulation," Alex guessed. "Maybe a passive skill you learned? Lets you feel or guide the energy, even if you can't shape it properly yet." He quickly explained his own Level Up, the stat points, the skill point, the full restore. Sharing this felt vital, building trust, pooling knowledge. "Maybe leveling up helps stabilize things, gives more control."
Maya listened intently, absorbing the information. "So... EXP from killing monsters leads to levels, levels give points to get stronger or learn new things?" It sounded absurdly like the games her younger brother played, yet undeniably real. "Did... did you get a Class? When you... Awakened?"
"Yeah," Alex confirmed. "Right before the hounds attacked the lobby. Had to choose between Warrior, Mage, Ranger, or Rogue. I picked Rogue."
"But I didn't get a choice," Maya murmured, troubled. "Just... the tutorial thing for the ward." Suddenly, a new notification flickered onto her UI, and her eyes widened slightly. Alex couldn't see it, but he saw her reaction.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It says..." she read slowly, her voice filled with disbelief, "'Class Alignment Tendency Detected: Protector/Guardian.' And then... 'Potential Class Paths Available upon reaching Level 2: Guardian, Paladin, Battle Cleric, Shield Master... SelectionDeferred.'" She looked up at him, bewildered. "Deferred? Potential paths? What does that mean?"
Alex could only guess. "Maybe... maybe your Awakening was different? Triggered by defending someone, maybe? So the System tagged you as a 'Protector' type? And maybe you choose later, or it solidifies based on your actions?" He shook his head. "More questions than answers. But it means you do have a path, Maya. A defensive one, it sounds like. Which... honestly? We desperately need."
The idea of defined roles, of potential teamwork based on complementary abilities, sparked a tiny flicker of hope in the oppressive fear. But it was immediately tempered by reality.
"Levels and classes are great," Maya said, her voice low and intense, echoing Alex's earlier thoughts but with more despair. "But look at us. We're trapped in a basement room, Frank's probably dead or worse, Henderson's bleeding out, people are panicking, and those things..." she gestured vaguely upwards, "...are doing god-knows-what upstairs. What good are levels if we starve to death down here? Or if the whole city is falling apart? Is anyone organizing? Is there a government response? Is the internet even working anywhere?"
Her questions hung heavy in the humming air. Alex had no answers. His gamer mind focused on levels, skills, immediate threats. Her pragmatic fear focused on the bigger picture, the societal collapse, the lack of infrastructure, the desperate need for order in a world consumed by chaos. It was a stark reminder that surviving the System wasn't just about killing monsters.
Their quiet conference was interrupted by Mrs. Carson, her face tear-streaked but now filled with angry accusation. "You two! You just ran! You left Frank! He saved you, and you just left him with those… those things!"
"We didn't have a choice, Mrs. Carson," Alex said tiredly, though guilt pricked at him. "That thing with the staff… it was too strong. Staying meant we all died."
"We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't gone looking for trouble!" Henderson groaned from his corner, clutching his leg.
"We were looking for supplies," Maya snapped back, her defensive instincts flaring. "Supplies you need right now, Henderson!"
Alex stepped between them. "Arguing isn't helping. We're alive. We're relatively safe for now. We need a new plan." He looked around the electrical room. Cramped, humming machinery, one locked steel door. "First, figure out where we are and where we can go. Anyone see a building map?"
Ben, who had been quiet, pushed his glasses up his nose. "Maybe… maybe in the security office? Usually near the main electrical or maintenance areas." He pointed towards a bundle of cables leading through the wall. "That might lead back towards the central service core."
It was a long shot, but better than sitting here. "Okay," Alex agreed. "New plan. We find the security office on this level or nearby. Look for maps, maybe working cameras – unlikely, but possible. See if there's another way out of this building that doesn't involve the lobby or those… cultists."
He looked at the group. Henderson was barely mobile. Mrs. Carson was distraught, Mr. Carson trying to comfort her while looking terrified himself. Ben seemed willing but physically unprepared for more combat. It was down to him and Maya again.
"Maya and I will scout ahead," Alex decided. "Check the immediate hallway. Ben, Mr. Carson – you stay here with Henderson and Mrs. Carson. Barricade this door from the inside as best you can after we leave. Don't open it unless you hear our signal." He decided on a simple pattern: three knocks, pause, two knocks.
Reluctantly, the others agreed. There wasn't much choice.
Alex and Maya shared a look. Partners by default, bound by the secret of the System. He checked his knife, felt the reassuring hum of his fully restored Stamina. She hefted her hammer again, her earlier exhaustion seemingly pushed aside by adrenaline and the strange energy now flowing within her.
Together, they slid the deadbolt open and cautiously pushed the heavy steel door open just enough to peer out into the service corridor beyond. It was dark, narrow, and blessedly silent. For now.
They slipped out, pulling the door shut behind them, hearing the scrape of something heavy being dragged against it from the inside. They were committed now. Find the security office. Find a way out.
They moved down the service corridor, Alex taking point, flashlight beam cutting a narrow swathe through the oppressive darkness. They passed storage closets filled with cleaning supplies (Maya grabbed a bottle of industrial bleach – "Might be useful," she muttered grimly), dusty ventilation shafts humming erratically, and locked doors leading to unknown rooms.
After about fifty yards, the corridor opened slightly near what looked like a service elevator bank (dead, of course). Across from it was a door with a small frosted glass window, labeled: "Building Security - Authorized Personnel Only".
"This could be it," Alex whispered.
He tried the handle. Locked. This lock looked more serious than the flimsy apartment ones. Electronic keypad access, now dead without power, and a heavy-duty key lock.
"No way we're breaking that down quietly," Maya observed.
Alex examined the keypad, then the lock. Maybe… He focused, thinking of his earlier attempt. 'Attempt lockpicking.'
Again, the faint UI prompt: [Attempting Action: Lockpicking (Security Lock). Required Skill: Basic Lockpicking (Untrained). Difficulty: High. Insufficient Skill. Failure Likely. Proceed? Y/N]
High difficulty. Failure likely. But what choice did they have? 'Yes.'
He pulled out his knife again, remembering scenes from games and movies. He jammed the tip into the keyhole, probing gently, trying to feel for tumblers. It was useless, he knew, he had no actual skill, but he had to try something. He jiggled the knife. Nothing. He tried scraping, levering slightly.
Suddenly, he heard a faint click. Not from the lock, but from behind the door. He froze, signaling Maya for silence.
They both listened intently. A low, guttural snuffling sound reached them from the other side of the door. Followed by a heavy, dragging footstep. Then another. Something was inside the security office.
A shadow shifted beneath the gap at the bottom of the door, large and indistinct. A low sniffle, wet and ragged, then a heavy THUMP as something solid and heavy impacted the door from the inside, making the metal groan.
Alex and Maya exchanged horrified glances. They weren't trying to break in anymore. Something inside was trying to break out. And it sounded big.