The staircase wound down into a darkness that felt almost alive, breathing cold air into their faces. Every step sent an echo that bounced off the walls like a mocking whisper. Leo led the way, one hand gripping his machete, the other tracing the rough concrete of the wall for balance.
Behind him, Aïcha's staff glowed faintly, the runes etched into its surface casting jagged shadows. Camille stumbled, his breath ragged, his eyes wide with fear.
"Leo," he said, his voice tight. "Are you sure about this? Feels like we're descending into a crypt."
Leo didn't look back. "Better a crypt than a feeding ground. If we're lucky, the bastards up top won't think to look for us down here."
Aïcha made a low sound, something between a laugh and a sigh. "If we're unlucky, we're just delivering ourselves to something worse."
Leo's grip on the machete tightened. Every nerve felt raw, like the darkness itself was peeling back his skin to peer at the meat beneath.
The System pulsed, a cold heartbeat that didn't belong to him. Each beat felt like a nail driven into his mind. His vision blurred at the edges, shapes flickering in the gloom—eyes, fangs, something reaching.
He shook his head, focusing on the concrete under his boots. One foot after the other.
The stairs ended in a wide tunnel, the ceiling arched like the throat of some ancient beast. Pipes and cables hung in limp tangles, their casings cracked and weeping oil. Pools of stagnant water shimmered in the staff's light, their surfaces broken by ripples that had no source.
Leo paused, scanning the darkness. A faint sound reached him—a scratching, like claws on stone. He raised his hand, signaling for silence.
Aïcha stopped behind him, her staff held high. Camille bumped into her and nearly toppled over, but she steadied him with one hand.
Leo crouched low, every muscle coiled. The scratching grew louder, joined by a wet, sucking noise. The System's pulse grew stronger, cold fire spreading through his veins.
Use me, it whispered, a voice that was both his and not his.
His breath quickened. He wanted to fight it, to push it away, but the darkness inside him coiled tighter.
A shape lurched out of the shadows—twisted, all limbs and hunger. Its eyes glowed a sickly white, its mouth a gaping wound filled with jagged teeth.
Camille gasped, but Aïcha thrust her staff forward. "Stay back!" she hissed.
Leo surged forward, the machete a blur in his hand. The blade met the creature's flesh with a wet crunch. Black ichor sprayed across his arm, hot and acrid. The thing let out a shriek and collapsed, limbs spasming.
For a moment, the tunnel fell silent except for Leo's ragged breathing.
Aïcha lowered her staff, eyes on Leo. "You okay?"
Leo felt the darkness retreat, but the echo of the System's voice lingered in his head. "I'm fine," he muttered, though he didn't believe it.
Camille stared at the corpse, his face pale. "What…what was that?"
Leo didn't answer. He wiped the blade on his sleeve, the ichor steaming in the cold air.
"Let's keep moving," he said. "There's worse than that down here."
Aïcha's eyes met his, sharp and searching. "And in you," she whispered, too low for Camille to hear.
Leo turned away, leading them deeper into the darkness. The System pulsed, and the shadows shifted, whispering secrets he didn't want to hear.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, a gaping throat swallowing them one step at a time. Water dripped from pipes overhead, forming thin, oily puddles that reflected the glow of Aïcha's staff in strange, broken shapes.
Leo kept his eyes forward, machete in hand, but every shadow felt alive. The System's presence pulsed inside him, slow and insistent—a steady rhythm that didn't match his own heartbeat.
He tried to push it aside, but the darkness bled into his thoughts like ink on paper. Shapes twisted in the corners of his vision: hands clawing at nothing, eyes watching from nowhere.
Weak, the voice hissed inside his mind. You let them die. You'll let these die, too.
He clenched his teeth, gripping the machete tighter. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath.
Aïcha glanced at him, brow furrowed. "What did you say?"
Leo didn't meet her eyes. "Nothing."
She studied him for a long moment, her staff's light flickering as if the shadows themselves had grown restless. "You're not okay," she said quietly.
Camille, trailing behind them, perked up. "What? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Leo snapped, too quickly. The System pulsed in response, as if mocking him.
Camille's eyes widened. "Leo, your eyes…"
Leo blinked. "What?"
"Just…for a second, they looked…different. Like…like they were glowing."
A shiver ran down Leo's spine. He turned away. "You're imagining things."
But even as he said it, he felt the darkness pressing closer, like a living thing crawling beneath his skin. His fingers tingled with cold fire.
Aïcha's voice cut through the haze. "Leo."
He looked at her, forcing his eyes to focus.
"Don't let it take you," she said, her tone firm, eyes locked on his. "The System wants to control you. Fight it."
He swallowed hard, the System's voice curling around his mind like smoke. Let me in. Let me help. You'll be stronger. Faster. They'll all follow you…or they'll die.
He shook his head. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice raw.
A scream pierced the darkness—a high, ragged sound that made Camille jump.
"Leo—what was that?"
Leo scanned the shadows, every muscle tense. "We're not alone," he muttered.
Aïcha's staff brightened. "We need to move. Fast."
Leo led the way, the shadows pressing in on all sides. Every step felt like sinking into quicksand. The System's voice was louder now, a chorus of whispers promising power.
Embrace it. Accept me. You can't fight what you are.
Leo stumbled, one hand to his temple. Images flashed in his mind—Camille's terrified face, Aïcha's eyes filled with doubt, his own hands dripping with blood.
"No," he growled. "I won't."
The darkness pulsed, but his resolve held. He wouldn't give in. Not yet.
Aïcha's voice reached him like a lifeline. "Leo—don't stop. We're almost there."
He forced himself forward, the darkness clawing at his mind with every step.
The corridor narrowed, forcing them to walk single file. The darkness thickened like a living thing, pressing in from all sides. A chill seeped through Leo's jacket, though sweat dripped down his spine.
The System's voice was louder now, a hiss that tangled with his thoughts. You're ready, it whispered. The trial begins.
Leo stumbled. Aïcha reached for him, but he waved her off, his vision swimming. Shadows twisted and writhed across the walls, forming shapes that shouldn't exist.
A hallway opened before him—a place he recognized but couldn't possibly be here. His old apartment. The smell of burnt plastic and smoke hung in the air.
"Leo?" Camille's voice was distant, muffled. "Where are you going?"
He couldn't answer. The System yanked him forward, through a doorway that no longer existed.
His mother's voice came from inside. "Leo…?"
He stepped into the living room, though he knew it was impossible. The charred remains of the sofa, the broken glass underfoot—it was all as he'd left it the night everything burned. His mother sat on the couch, her eyes hollow, her skin gray with death.
"Why didn't you save us, Leo?"
His chest clenched. "No…"
She stood, her movements jerky, head tilting at an unnatural angle. "You were strong enough. You could've fought. You let them burn."
Tears burned his eyes. "I—"
Weak, the System hissed. They died because of you.
"No!" He screamed it, raising the machete, but his arms felt like lead.
Behind his mother, the shadows shifted and twisted into another shape—his little sister, her dress charred and torn. Her eyes glowed faintly, accusing. "You promised you'd keep me safe."
His breath came in ragged gasps. The room smelled of smoke and blood. His knees buckled. "I—I couldn't—"
Then take the power, the System purred. Let me make you strong enough to protect them. To protect everyone.
He wanted to. Gods, he wanted to.
But he saw the darkness waiting—its tendrils wrapping around his mind, ready to consume him.
"No," he whispered. "Not like this."
A roar tore from his chest, a raw, defiant sound that cracked the illusion. Light—cold and pure—burst from inside him, shattering the shadows.
The room vanished, leaving him kneeling on the tunnel floor. Aïcha and Camille stood over him, their faces pale with worry.
"Leo!" Aïcha's voice was sharp, urgent. "What happened?"
He couldn't answer. The darkness inside him still pulsed, but the trial had ended. A part of him felt…hollow, like something vital had been carved out and left behind.
Camille knelt beside him, eyes wide. "Leo…you were screaming. We thought—"
Leo's hand trembled as he reached for the machete. "It's… it's not over," he rasped.
Aïcha's face hardened. "Then we stay together. And we keep moving."
He nodded, the System's voice receding into a low, sullen growl. For now.
The corridor widened, revealing a rusted security door half-buried beneath debris. Leo's breath still came in ragged gasps, his chest tight from the visions that had clawed at his sanity. Aïcha watched him closely, staff ready in her hand, as if expecting him to collapse again.
Camille, emboldened by their fragile reprieve, pushed at the debris with trembling hands. "This looks like a control center," he said, his voice a hopeful tremor.
Aïcha's staff flared brighter, casting shadows like spiderwebs across the cracked walls. "If we're lucky, there's information here. Maybe even a way to understand…that thing inside you."
Leo flinched. The System's voice still hissed in the corners of his mind, quieter now but no less hungry. "Information won't change what I am," he muttered.
Aïcha's gaze softened. "No, but it might help us fight it."
Camille found a console buried under a fallen beam. He struggled to lift it, and Leo, despite the tremor in his hands, helped. The beam groaned as they shifted it aside, revealing a shattered monitor caked in dust.
Aïcha approached, her fingers tracing ancient runes etched into the console's casing. "This is old," she murmured. "Pre-Judgement tech. Someone tried to wipe it."
She murmured a word Leo didn't understand, and her staff sparked with blue fire. The console flickered to life, lines of corrupted code dancing across the screen.
Camille's eyes widened. "Can you read it?"
Aïcha's eyes darted left to right as lines of data scrolled by. "Bits and pieces," she said. "Listen to this: 'Système d'évaluation du Jugement'—that's what they called it. A prototype designed to test human limits. But it got corrupted. Something—someone—hijacked it."
Leo's gut twisted. "Hijacked? By who?"
Aïcha's brow furrowed. "It doesn't say. But it references an entity called 'The Architect.'"
Camille paled. "Sounds like a cult or something."
Aïcha shook her head. "No. This was a government project—an experiment that went wrong. When the Collapse came, it merged with the energies released. That's how the System spread."
Leo's mind spun. The System's power pulsed in his veins, colder now, almost amused. "So it's not just a curse. It's a…weapon?"
Aïcha met his gaze, her expression grim. "A weapon—and a prison. Whoever created it didn't want it to stop."
Leo's chest tightened. "Then how the hell do I get rid of it?"
Aïcha's eyes darkened. "Maybe you can't."
Silence filled the chamber, heavy as the dust that lay on everything.
Camille's voice, small but determined, broke the quiet. "Then we find another way. If we can't break it, maybe we can use it."
Leo's hand trembled on the console. The System's pulse quickened, its voice like a blade in his skull. Use me. Let me in. I will give you the power to survive.
He clenched his jaw, sweat beading on his forehead. "We'll see," he whispered.
Aïcha placed a hand on his arm, firm and grounding. "We're in this together, Leo. Remember that."
For the first time since the night's horrors began, Leo found himself nodding. "Yeah," he muttered. "Together."
The console's screen fizzled and died, plunging the room back into darkness. Only Aïcha's staff cast its pale glow, dancing shadows across the walls. Leo's heart pounded in his chest, every beat a reminder of the System's cold presence inside him.
Camille was already fumbling with the console, hoping for another spark of information. "Come on, come on," he muttered. "There has to be something else—some override—"
"Leave it," Leo snapped, voice harsher than he intended. The System's power trembled under his skin like a coiled snake, restless, hungry. He felt it pressing at the edges of his mind, promising strength. Promising victory.
A low rumble shivered through the walls—a warning, or maybe a challenge. Aïcha's staff brightened. "They know we're here," she said.
Leo's eyes narrowed. "The Régime?"
"Or something worse," she replied grimly.
The shadows twisted at the edges of the room, and Leo felt the System's pull—stronger now, insistent. Use me, it whispered. Crush them. Make them fear you.
His breath came faster. He could see it—a surge of darkness, a flood of power that would sweep everything away. A thrill raced through him.
Aïcha's hand closed on his shoulder, warm and real. "Leo," she said, voice low. "Don't lose yourself to it."
He met her gaze, saw the fear—and the trust—in her eyes. The darkness inside him snarled. They are weak. Let me show you how to be strong.
A roar echoed from the corridor outside. Camille's eyes widened. "They're here!"
Leo's vision blurred, the System's voice a hurricane. Power flooded his limbs, cold and black. He felt his veins burn with it—an intoxicating rush of strength.
"Leo!" Camille cried.
The darkness exploded outward. Shadows coiled around his arms, thick as chains, lashing the walls and floor. The console cracked, the air itself shivering with raw force.
Aïcha shielded her eyes. "Leo, stop!"
He tried. Gods, he tried. But the power had him now, fingers of shadow digging into every corner of his mind.
Then he saw Camille—small, pale, terrified—and the shadows wrapped around him too.
"NO!" Leo roared, shoving the power away. The darkness recoiled, hissing, but not before leaving a black mark on Camille's cheek—a thin, jagged scar that oozed a dark liquid.
Camille staggered, tears streaming down his face. "Leo…?"
Leo's chest heaved. "I… I didn't mean—"
Aïcha grabbed his arm. "We have to move," she snapped. "They're almost here!"
Outside the door, footsteps thundered. Shouts.
Leo looked at his friend—his brother in all but blood—and saw the mark he'd left. The System's power still pulsed in his veins, whispering promises.
Embrace it.
He clenched his jaw. "Let's go," he growled.
Together, they plunged into the darkness, the System's cold laughter following them like a promise.