Alonso's eyes widened in surprise and relief. At the base of the stairs, he could see a table set with food and water, a sight that made his stomach growl loudly. This wasn’t just any food—it was a feast, with meat included, a luxury he hadn’t even dared to hope for. Up until now, the food had been basic—just barrels of water and fruits. This change in treatment made him feel like some kind of VIP and brought a refreshing smile to his face.
‘The stick and the carrot,’ he thought as he made his way to the table. He noted there was also a chair and nicely arranged cutlery on the table. But the surprise did not end there. As he reached the chair, he found a neatly folded uniform on top of it.
The uniform was plain white with no outstanding features, but the fabric felt soft and clean. He picked it up, inspecting the stitching and the material. It was simple and utilitarian, but it was a vast improvement over his current state. There was even an extra pair of underwear included. Alonso nodded in approval. Nothing fancy, and he might look like a prisoner, but at least he had clothes again.
Despite his hunger, he took a moment to change. He threw his dirty, stinky boxers into a corner and put on the fresh new clothes. The feeling of clean fabric against his skin was almost as satisfying as the sight of the feast before him. He felt a sense of renewed dignity and comfort.
Finally, dressed and feeling more like himself, he sat down at the table. The array of food was impressive: roasted meat, fresh vegetables, bread, and a pitcher of water. He dug in eagerly, savoring each bite. The meat was tender and flavorful, something he had missed dearly. The fresh vegetables and bread complemented the meal perfectly.
As he ate, Alonso couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This feast and fresh clothing were his hard-earned rewards after all. The trials had tested him in ways he had never imagined, but each victory, no matter how small, reinforced his resolve to keep moving forward.
Feeling satisfied and reinvigorated, Alonso leaned back in the chair, enjoying the peace and comfort. His stomach was full, and his eyes were heavy with contentment. Just as he began to savor the moment, the remaining food on the table vanished in an instant.
He blinked in surprise, then noticed four orbs had appeared on the platter in place of the food. ‘The dessert,’ he mused to himself, but his face quickly turned serious. He understood that everything in this place was a test. He had to tread carefully.
Alonso stared at the orbs, then at the stairs, weighing his options. The orbs provided him with abilities and enhancements, but they came with their own risks and challenges. After a while of consideration, he decided to absorb all of them. He knew that each trial required him to push his limits and adapt quickly.
He reached out and touched the first orb. It dissolved into his skin, sending a familiar wave of energy through his body. He felt his senses sharpen and his strength increase. Encouraged, he absorbed the next orb, and the next, until all four had merged with him.
The effects were immediate and overwhelming. His vision became razor-sharp, his hearing acutely sensitive. He felt a surge of power coursing through his veins, his muscles tightening and strengthening. But this time, the most notable improvement was in his brain. He noted how the waves he emitted became more pronounced and his perception of them more acute.
> Stage 1 - 0.598%
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>
> Stage 1 - 0.619%
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> Stage 1 - 0.639%
>
> Stage 1 - 0.658%
Familiar prompts appeared in his vision as each orb was absorbed, indicating clearly he was progressing within Stage 1, whatever it was. The incremental progress, however, concerned him. If he was like this at less than 1%, how powerful would he become at 100%, if he ever reached it? How far from human would he be by then? And if that was not enough, then why Stage 1? Was there, perhaps, a Stage 2?
These thoughts brought up questions he had been avoiding, choosing instead to focus on the trials. Questions concerning the nature of these trials and these orbs. He was now completely sure this was not a human-controlled environment. Far from it. His best guess was that this was some sort of advanced alien civilization construct, but even then, just saying it aloud felt strange. But if not that, then what? Afterlife? Transported to another world?
While a part of him was fascinated by his new capabilities and curious to unravel the mysteries of these trials, the biggest part of him just wanted to go back. He wanted to enjoy the conveniences of modern life, have a good time camping, find a good partner to enjoy the rest of life with, and travel the world. That was his ideal life, and he was planning to work hard for it, to make his parents proud and hopefully, with the advancements in technology, find a way to cure his mom.
But now here he was, in the middle of some alien trials, happy because he got some plain clothes and a bit of meat. And sure, he got his leg back and the power was amazing, but… was it worth it?
He stared at the stairs going up. It was dark on the other side, as usual. ‘Do I have a choice?’ He understood he could not go back, that option was not available. All he could do, if he ever hoped to get out, was to move forward. He got up from the chair and picked up the sword.
Mustering all his strength, he turned back and slashed downward at the table. It was severed in half without much resistance. There was a loud sound as his sword went all the way to the floor, creating a loud bang, and the sound of the broken platter and table added to the scene. But he did not stop there. He went again and again, slashing and smashing everything in sight. Chairs, the remains of the table, the pitcher—everything was destroyed in a frenzy of pent-up frustration and rage.
Each swing of the sword was a release of his sense of helplessness and alienation. His worries about his future, his doubts about the nature of these trials, and the accumulated stress of his predicament all poured out in a violent outburst. The physical exertion provided a temporary escape from his inner turmoil.
He felt his heart pounding, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was now a mess of broken furniture and shattered pieces. He stood there, sword in hand, surrounded by the debris of his rage. For a moment, he felt a strange calmness wash over him, as if the destruction had purged some of the darkness within him.
Alonso dropped to his knees, the sword clattering to the floor beside him. He stared at his hands, trembling from the exertion and emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mixture of anger, frustration, and despair. He let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away.
He knew he couldn't stay like this. He had to keep moving, no matter how hopeless it seemed. But why… why him?
After lying down for several minutes, motionless, he slowly picked himself up, wiped his face, and took a deep breath. The room was still and silent.
He picked up the sword and turned towards the stairs once more. Each step felt heavy, but with each one, the worry went away and his mind focused once again. By the time he reached the last step, there was no vestige of worry in his expression, his eyes calm and empty, and his grip on the sword steady.
He gazed around, waiting for the light to come as it had in every new room.
But the light never came.