Chapter 2: The First Reward

Chapter 2: The First Reward

The blue screen hung in the air, an impossible violation of physics. Kaelen’s first thought wasn’t awe or terror; it was a cold, cynical assessment. Flashbang disorientation. Concussion. Hallucination. He blinked hard, expecting the words to vanish, but they remained, crisp and steady against the blood-soaked backdrop of the barn.

[Welcome, User. Your reality has been updated.]

“Kael, what is it? What are you looking at?” Lena’s voice was strained, pulling him back from the precipice of his own sanity. He glanced at her. Her eyes were wide, fixed on his face, not on the space in front of him. She couldn’t see it. This was just for him.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden, oppressive silence. He’d faced down gunfire, IEDs, and men whose only goal was to kill him. This quiet, glowing text felt infinitely more dangerous.

He ignored Lena's question for a moment, his focus narrowing on the screen. His mind, honed by years of tactical analysis, treated it like a new piece of enemy tech. If it’s real, learn its rules. Fast. He thought, Status, with a surge of desperate intent.

The screen shimmered and changed.

[Kaelen 'Kael' Vance] Level: 1 (0/100 EXP) Class: Warden Title: None

[Attributes] Strength: 12 Dexterity: 14 Constitution: 13 Intelligence: 11 Wisdom: 15 Charisma: 8

[Status] Health: 98/100 (Minor Laceration) Stamina: 95/100

He stared at the numbers. They felt… right. He’d always been quicker than he was strong, tough enough to take a beating. And Wisdom… he supposed that was the cynicism, the hard-earned ability to see the worst in any situation. The ‘8’ in Charisma even drew a grim, humorless twitch from his lips. Accurate.

The word ‘Warden’ resonated somewhere deep in his chest. A guard. A protector. It was the entire, unspoken creed he had lived by since the day his military career had ended in fire and failure. The system, whatever it was, had seen that. It had judged him.

A new box popped up, overlaying the first one.

[Class: Warden] A sentinel against the encroaching dark. Wardens excel at controlling the battlefield, protecting their allies, and standing as an unbreakable wall. You gain passive bonuses when actively defending others. New Skill Available: [Taunting Presence]

“Kael, talk to me!” Lena insisted, taking a step closer. Her flashlight beam danced around the empty space where the creature had dissolved. “That thing… it just… vanished. Your arm is bleeding. We need to call this in.”

“Call it in as what, Petrova?” he finally answered, his voice rough. “Tell them we shot a nightmare that dissolved into smoke? They’ll have us in psych evals for a month.”

His gaze was still locked on the screen only he could see. A new prompt blinked insistently.

[First Kill Reward cache available. Manifest? Y/N]

The primal, self-preservation part of his brain screamed NO. Don’t touch it. Don’t engage with the hallucination. But the pragmatic soldier, the man who had just seen a creature from hell get taken down by a lucky shot, knew he was past the point of pretending the world made sense. Adapt or die.

He focused on the ‘Y’.

A soft hum filled the barn. A cube of shimmering, turquoise light coalesced in the air between them, swirling like captured smoke before solidifying into a three-foot-wide, semi-translucent chest.

Lena gasped and stumbled back, her flashlight clattering to the hay-strewn floor. “What in God’s name…?”

This, she could see. This was real for both of them.

The front of the luminous chest dissolved, revealing three objects floating within, each bathed in a soft, internal glow. More text appeared in Kaelen’s vision, describing them.

1. [Aegis Shard]: A fragment of a forgotten shield. Binds to the user's forearm. Can manifest a small, translucent barrier capable of absorbing one moderate physical impact. Cooldown: 1 hour.

2. [Vial of Still Water]: A single-use consumable. The water within is unnaturally calm. Instantly purges minor toxins and restores a small amount of Health.

3. [Warden's Law]: A CQC weapon favored by those who hold the line. This trench knife never dulls and never needs cleaning. Deals 20% additional damage to creatures of Aberrant origin.

Kaelen’s eyes locked on the third option. A barrier was good, healing was useful, but he was a man who believed the best defense was a swift, overwhelming offense. That creature had shrugged off 9mm rounds like they were spitballs. He needed something that could hurt them. A weapon that followed the new rules.

“Don’t touch it, Kael,” Lena whispered, her voice laced with superstitious dread.

But he was already moving forward. He reached into the glowing box, his fingers closing around the handle of the trench knife. The moment his skin made contact, the light of the box and the other two items faded, vanishing as if they’d never been. The knife, however, remained.

It felt impossibly real in his hand. The brass knuckles of the hilt were heavy and solid, the double-edged blade a cold, lethal grey. It was heavier than it should be, balanced perfectly. A line of faint, silvery script was etched into the fuller of the blade, glowing for a second before fading. He felt a connection to it, a hum of latent power that settled into his bones. This was a real thing.

The cut on his forearm from the creature’s claw throbbed in time with his pulse, a burning reminder of how close he’d come to death. A reminder that he was wounded, and the next one might not be so easy to kill.

He slid the knife into an empty sheath on his tactical vest. The fit was perfect.

It was then that the world outside the barn came crashing back in.

Lena’s shoulder mic, still connected to the cruiser’s radio, burst to life. It wasn't the calm, measured voice of dispatch. It was the open channel, a cacophony of raw, unfiltered panic.

“—all units, shots fired downtown, I repeat, shots fired! They’re not human! Oh God, they’re coming through the walls—”

A new voice, screaming over the sound of automatic gunfire. “—sky! Look at the sky! It’s tearing open! I see things—”

Another officer, his voice breaking with static and terror. “Precinct is being overrun! Send backup! They’re everywhere! They look like… like rats made of broken glass!”

Kaelen and Lena stared at each other, the blood draining from their faces. The Miller farm wasn't an isolated incident. The dispatcher’s report of ‘shadows’ wasn’t the rambling of a scared old man. It was the first tremor of an earthquake that was now shattering their entire city.

The impossible thing in the barn wasn’t the monster. It was the harbinger.

Kaelen’s mind raced, shoving aside the shock and replacing it with cold, hard strategy. Their small, bizarre call had just become ground zero of the end of the world. His personal mission to atone for past failures suddenly had a new, terrifyingly immediate context.

He grabbed Lena’s arm, his grip steady and sure, pulling her from her horrified paralysis. “Lena. Look at me.”

Her wide, terrified eyes met his.

“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice a low, hard command that left no room for argument. The cynicism in his eyes was gone, replaced by the grim fire of a warden facing down the apocalypse. “We’re going back to the city. Now.”