POV: Roger

  Roger hit the ground in a crouch, knives already in hand, scanning for threats before his eyes had fully adjusted to the new light. The transition from the marble rest area to wherever this was had been instantaneous—one moment he'd been watching Luna reach for Mia, the next he was surrounded by towering trees and strange grass-like stalks that stretched impossibly high toward a sky that definitely wasn't Earth's.

  Mia materialized two feet to his left, stumbling slightly before catching her balance. Sam appeared behind them both, his Wizard robes already on.

  "Where—" Mia started, then stopped as she looked up. Her face went pale in the strange light filtering through the canopy. "That's not... the moon is purple. The moon is actually purple."

  Roger followed her gaze and saw it: a massive violet sphere hanging in the sky, impossibly close, its surface swirling with patterns. Stars scattered around it burned in colors—reds and greens and blues that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

  "We're not on Earth anymore," Sam said quietly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Or maybe we're on Earth but... a different Earth? Another dimension? I don't even know what to call this."

  The System message appeared before Roger could respond, floating in his vision with that familiar blue text that had become almost routine over the past few days.

  [TRIAL 3: THE PROVING GROUNDS]

  Roger read quickly, absorbing the key points: ten days, reach Level 10 or lose everything, Safe Zones with Guides, Sanctum Points as currency, hidden objectives for the ambitious. The information was dense but practical, exactly the kind of framework he could work with. Rules meant exploits. Systems meant hierarchies. And hierarchies meant opportunities for someone clever enough to find them.

  "Ten days," Mia breathed, her voice tight with anxiety. "We have to reach Level 10 in ten days or we lose our memories? Our powers? Everything?"

  "That's what it says." Roger kept his voice calm and reassuring—the mask he wore so naturally that sometimes he forgot he was wearing it. "But we've got each other. A healer, a damage dealer, and someone who can scout and flank. That's not a bad composition for a survival scenario."

  It was, actually, a terrible composition. No tank, no frontline, no one capable of holding an enemy's attention while the squishier members dealt damage from safety. Roger had done the math the moment the System announced their grouping, and the numbers weren't good. Sam's lightning was powerful but consumed Mana at an unsustainable rate, Mia couldn't fight at all without sacrificing her healing capacity, and Roger himself was built for ambushes and quick kills rather than prolonged combat. Against anything that could survive his initial burst, against anything that required sustained pressure to bring down, they were going to struggle badly.

  But he wasn't going to say any of that out loud. Panicking Mia wouldn't help anyone, and keeping Sam focused was more important than being honest about their disadvantages. Roger had learned long ago that truth was a tool to be deployed strategically, not a default state of being, and that managing expectations was just another form of manipulation that most people never even recognized as such.

  "At least Victor isn't with us," Mia said suddenly, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and lingering unease. "I still can't believe we have to... that he's just allowed to continue with us. After everything he did. In the Trial and before that."

  "The System protected him," Sam said, his tone carefully neutral. "Once the objective was met, there was nothing anyone could do."

  "That's not what I mean." Mia turned to Roger, her expression troubled in a way that suggested she'd been thinking about this for a while. "Back in the rest area—you were talking to him. Like he was just... a person. Like he was a friendly uncle or something. He murdered his own allies right in front of us, and you were having a conversation with him like nothing happened."

  Roger considered his response carefully. The truth was that he'd found Victor surprisingly easy to talk to, once you accepted what he was. The tattooed man didn't pretend to be anything other than a killer, didn't wrap his violence in justifications or excuses, didn't expect anyone to like him or trust him. Roger liked this about the man.

  "He's useful," Roger said, keeping his voice reasonable. "Whatever else he is, he knows how to survive. And in a place like this, surrounded by monsters and potentially competing against other participants, practical knowledge matters more than moral character."

  "Practical knowledge?" Mia's voice rose slightly. "He's a serial killer, Roger, he claimed so himself. The System literally said he was sentenced to death and that it confirmed his guilt. How can you just... set that aside?"

  "I'm not setting it aside. I'm being realistic." Roger met her eyes with an expression of patient understanding that he'd perfected over years of navigating social situations where his true thoughts would have horrified the people around him. "Victor is dangerous. Everyone knows that. But dangerous and useful aren't mutually exclusive, and right now we need every advantage we can get."

  Sam was watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression, his glasses catching the strange light filtering through the canopy. "He has a point, Mia. I don't like it either, but for now every ally matters."

  "For now..." Mia muttered. "What happens when we get back to Earth? When we're surrounded by normal people again and Victor has the same powers we do? Are we just supposed to let him walk around knowing what he is?"

  "What do you suggest?" Roger looked at her with a hint of amusement he tried to hide. "Killing him on sight?"

  "I-I don't... we should give him to the authorities!" Mia said, her voice weak. "Let him continue with his sentence..."

  "I don't think this is realistic, considering that he can always summon his Class Form," Sam said, his tone apologetic. Mia wanted to say something back, but only sighed and kept her silence.

  "We should start moving," Roger said, scanning the forest around them. He was tired from this pointless conversation. "Let's find one of those Safe Zones the System mentioned.."

  Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Makes sense. I can use my lightning as a deterrent if we run into anything dangerous, but I'd rather not burn through my Mana before we have somewhere safe to rest."

  Mia was still staring at the purple moon, her face thoughtful. She was so transparent, so utterly incapable of hiding her emotions or calculating the angles of a situation. In the old world, that kind of openness had been merely annoying—the mark of someone who would never advance far in any competitive environment. In this new reality, where monsters and murder were the daily norm, it was going to get her killed.

  Unless someone managed her. Protected her from her own soft heart and kept her alive long enough to become useful.

  Roger mentally added that to his list of priorities. Mia was friends with Luna, and Luna was the most dangerous person Roger had encountered since the Integration began. Keeping Mia alive meant keeping a potential avenue of influence open—a connection to the elf girl who'd already demonstrated power levels that put everyone else to shame. And if that influence never became useful, well, having a dedicated healer in his debt wasn't exactly a burden either.

  "Mia." Roger touched her elbow gently, guiding her attention back to the immediate situation. "We need to go. There'll be time to admire the scenery and discuss Victor later, but right now we're exposed."

  She blinked, seeming to come back to herself. "Right. Right, sorry. I just—it's all so..." She trailed off.

  "I know." Roger gave her the understanding smile he'd practiced until it felt almost genuine. "It's overwhelming. But we've survived two Trials already. We can handle this one too."

  They chose a direction more or less at random—the System hadn't provided a map or compass—and began walking. Roger took point, his Rogue senses straining for any sign of danger, while Sam brought up the rear with his staff crackling faintly. Mia walked between them, her Radiant Orb active but dimmed to avoid attracting attention.

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  The forest was strange in ways that went beyond the alien sky and the strange trees. The air smelled of growing things and rich earth, with an underlying sweetness that might have been pleasant under other circumstances. Animals moved in the underbrush—small creatures that darted away before Roger could get a clear look at them. Birds called from the canopy in songs he didn't recognize. Once, something large crashed through the vegetation hundred feet to their left, and all three of them froze until the sound faded into the distance.

  "We're not alone out here," Sam observed quietly. "Probably should have expected that, given the Level 10 requirement."

  "Monsters mean experience points," Roger said. "As long as we're careful about what we fight, we should be able to—"

  The ground erupted.

  Roger threw himself sideways on pure instinct, rolling clear as something massive burst from the earth where he'd been standing. His Identify activated automatically, feeding him information even as his body was still processing the threat.

  [Maw Shrum (Iron) - Level 6]

  The creature was a nightmare made fungal—a thick stalk the size of a small tree, topped with a cap that split open to reveal rings of needle-sharp teeth. Tendrils whipped from its base, reaching for Roger with alarming speed and surprising accuracy. Its Rank and Level didn't give him much confidence.

  "MOVE!" he shouted, diving away from another tendril that would have wrapped around his ankle.

  A second eruption, ten feet from the first, right next to Mia. Another Maw Shrum, smaller than the first but no less aggressive.

  [Maw Shrum (Iron) - Level 3]

  Sam's lightning crackled through the air, striking the larger Shrum's stalk. The creature shuddered, its tendrils spasming, but it didn't fall—the Aether Shield was absorbing the magical assault, weakening but not breaking under the sustained attack. Sam poured more power into the Channel Lightning, his face twisting with concentration, and Roger knew that the Wizard's Mana reserves were draining at an alarming rate.

  "Mia, stay back!" Roger circled the smaller Shrum, looking for an opening as he stood between the creature and the Cleric. The creature was tracking him, its cap-mouth opening and closing in what might have been anticipation. Tendrils waved through the air like questing fingers, ready to grab him the moment he got too close.

  He activated Hide Presence and felt the skill settle over him like a cloak—his footsteps became silent, his movements harder to track, his presence somehow diminished in a way that was difficult to describe. The Maw Shrum's tendrils hesitated, searching for him with less certainty than before. It tried to attack Mia, instead, but the girl sent a Radiant Orb right at the creature—it didn't deal much damage, but distracted it for a few moments.

  Then Roger struck.

  He crossed the distance in a blur of Rogue-enhanced speed, knives flashing. His first strike connected with the junction between cap and stalk, and the Aether Shield flared—absorbing part of the impact, but not all of it. His blade cut into the mushroom flesh, drawing ichor that smelled of copper and decay.

  Flurry Attack activated. Roger's arms moved in a pattern that felt almost choreographed, each knife strike hitting the same spot in rapid succession. One-two-three-four, the impacts piling on top of each other faster than the Aether Shield could regenerate. The fourth strike punched through entirely, burying his blade deep in the creature's core.

  The Level 3 Maw Shrum collapsed, tendrils going limp, cap-mouth frozen in a final silent scream.

  [Maw Shrum (Iron) - Level 3 defeated]

  Roger spun to help with the larger threat—but he was too slow.

  As Sam stopped his magical assault, a tendril whipped toward Roger faster than he could dodge, catching him across the ribs with enough force to lift him off his feet and send him crashing into a nearby grass-stalk.

  Pain exploded through his side. His Aether Shield absorbed the worst of the impact, but the tendril had struck hard enough to partially penetrate—he could feel something wrong in his ribcage, a grinding sensation that suggested cracked bones or worse.

  "Roger!" Mia's voice was sharp with fear.

  "I'm fine!" He wasn't, but admitting weakness right now would only distract his teammates from the fight. Roger pushed himself upright, ignoring the fire in his side, and assessed the situation.

  Sam's lightning resumed for a few more seconds, and this time it finally broke through the larger Shrum's Aether Shield, but the Wizard was visibly flagging—sweat streaming down his face, arms trembling with the effort of maintaining his spell. The creature was wounded but not dead, its cap-mouth opening wide to reveal something bubbling in its depths.

  "SAM, MOVE!" Roger shouted as the Shrum opened its huge maw with something green gathering inside, ready to erupt.

  Sam dove sideways just in time. A glob of viscous green liquid sailed through the space he'd occupied, splattering against a tree trunk and immediately beginning to dissolve the bark. The stench was horrific even from twenty feet away.

  The Shrum was already charging another shot, but its attention was fixed on Sam—leaving Roger free to approach from behind. He forced his battered body into motion, circling wide, using the grass-stalks for cover. His side screamed in protest with every step, but he'd fought through worse pain before. Pain was just information, a signal to be acknowledged and then filed away until the situation allowed for proper attention.

  Roger struck from behind while the creature was focused on Sam. His knives found the same vulnerable junction he'd exploited on the smaller Shrum, and he poured everything he had into a Flurry Attack. The creature's already-weakened Aether Shield couldn't withstand the assault—his blades sank deep, severing something vital, and the Maw Shrum toppled forward.

  [Maw Shrum (Iron) - Level 6 defeated]

  [Level Up! You are now Level 3]

  The warmth of advancement spread through Roger's body, and he felt some of his injuries begin to mend—not completely, but enough to take the edge off the worst of the pain. He stood over the fallen creature, breathing hard, and took stock of his situation.

  His side was still damaged, despite the level-up healing. The hit had been solid enough to leave lasting damage that would need proper attention. His Mana was depleted by perhaps a quarter from the sustained use of his skills. And his hands were covered in mushroom ichor that smelled like something had died in a swamp and been left to ferment for a week.

  "Roger!" Mia rushed toward him, her staff already glowing with healing light. "You're hurt—let me—"

  "At least let me—" He tried to wave her off, but she grabbed his arm and pressed her palm to his injured side anyway. The warmth of her healing magic sank into his flesh, and Roger felt bones knitting back together, tissue regenerating, pain fading to a dull ache and then to nothing at all. He finished, "—clean myself."

  "A little dirt won't kill me," Mia said firmly. "You had three cracked ribs and internal bruising, and the longer we wait, the less effective my healing becomes."

  Roger looked at her—really looked, not the surface assessment he usually gave people. Mia's face was pale, and her hands were shaking slightly, but her voice was steady. She'd just witnessed a brutal fight, seen him get seriously injured, and she was still functioning well enough to diagnose and treat him. Maybe she wasn't quite as hopeless as he'd assumed, and maybe that soft heart came with a spine after all. He almost felt something, something warm and kind towards this girl, who didn't look half bad by any means, but he suppressed it. The last thing he needed was to get attached to someone he tried to use.

  "Thank you," he said, and meant it. Having a healer who could fix combat injuries was going to be essential for his long-term survival, and keeping Mia happy meant keeping that resource available. "I should have been more careful. Those things are faster than they look."

  "They came out of the ground," Sam said, joining them. The Wizard looked exhausted—his Mana reserves were probably running dangerously low after that sustained lightning assault. "No warning, no sound, just suddenly there. How are we supposed to watch for ambush predators that hide underground?"

  "Carefully." Roger wiped his knives clean on the fallen Shrum's cap, trying not to breathe too deeply of the awful smell. "And probably by not walking through areas where they're likely to be hunting."

  He looked around the clearing, noting the disturbed earth where the Shrums had emerged. The creatures had been lying in wait, probably attracted by the sound of their footsteps or the vibrations of their movement. Ambush predators that could sense prey through the ground and strike from concealment—that was a significant threat that would require adjustment to their travel patterns and route selection.

  "We need to find a Safe Zone," Roger said. "Somewhere we can rest and recover before we push further into this forest. Sam, how's your Mana?"

  "Barely twenty percent," the Wizard said. "I got Level 3 from the fight, which recovered some of the Mana, but it's still low."

  Roger contemplated for a moment. "We need you at full power if we're to continue."

  If not for Sam's magic, Roger doubted they could've handled the Level 6 enemy. Just to be on the safe side, they'd need to be at full capacity before advancing. After Sam dismissed his Class Form, they waited until he'd mostly recovered.

  Maybe an hour of travel later, the group had settled into a tense rhythm—Roger in front, eyes and ears working overtime, Mia keeping her Radiant Orb low and muted, Sam walking like each step cost him something, his fingers tight on his staff. The canopy started to thin, letting the strange moonlight wash over them in a purple hue.

  Then the sky changed.

  A column of light stabbed upward in the distance. It wasn’t like lightning; it was too straight and deliberate—an impossible beam that held for a heartbeat and vanished. A second followed, then a third, then six more in quick succession, each one rising from the same point on the horizon like a signal fired into the heavens.

  "What is it?" Mia asked, voice tight. "Could it be… a Safe Zone?"

  Roger shrugged, already angling his path toward it. "It could be. Or it could be a trap. Only one way to find out."

  Will the Elf Huntress reach the top 3 of the Rising Stars?