"Even the laziest soul must sometimes move, but move with care. Flail and you exhaust yourself; listen, and you might just sidestep the jaws of doom—and land softly on your well-cushioned backside." The Te of Slacking, Book 4, Verse 19

Yeah. I need to learn to keep my goddam mouth shut . . .

The transition from Floor One to Floor Two was… abrupt.

One moment I was standing triumphantly on the final tile of the shifting glyph floor, an incredibly smug grin plastered across my face and a jaunty tune in my heart.

And the next, I was treated to a dazzling display of teleportation tech on a budget.

My entire body compressed into a cube of pixelated light, and my consciousness folded into what I could only describe as a fleshly neon Rubik’s Cube. For one horrifying, brain-melting second, I was acutely aware that my left knee was occupying the same quantum neighbourhood as my spleen, my left elbow had become a Möbius strip, and my nose was actively trying to negotiate a trade agreement with a dimensional rift.

It felt less like teleportation and more like Salvador Dalí had been given a computer, a grudge, and an unlimited supply of LSD.

My stomach – and my sense of dignity – exchanged a few terse goodbyes before vanishing into the void entirely, presumably to file a joint complaint with whatever eldritch HR department handled this sort of abuse.

My left foot became a Klein bottle, my right arm tried to reinvent itself as a Fibonacci spiral, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I’m pretty sure my liver briefly wrote a haiku about despair before dissolving into the abstract concept of ennui.

The experience was – and go with me on this - like being sucked into a collaborative art project between a quantum physicist and a deeply bitter abstract painter who hated symmetry as much as they hated me.

By the time I popped back into existence, I half-expected to be wearing a bowler hat and melting like a clock.

Then I reappeared.

My molecules took a moment to begrudgingly agree on where they should actually be, snapping back into place like the overly stressed elastic waistband of a gluttonous competitive eater with a tragic backstory and a reality show.

This process was neither elegant nor pleasant.

It was the metaphysical equivalent of assembling IKEA furniture blindfolded, with half the screws replaced by angry hornets.

New Buff Activated: Quantum Reassembly (+5 Resilience, 20% Coordination for 5 minutes).

“Well,” I said, wobbling slightly as my heart sent me a stern memo about its recent displacement, “that’s totally not going to haunt me forever.”

WELCOME TO FLOOR 2: THE HALL OF FRENZY

"Abandon All Hope . . . nope. Just abandon it. Completely. You’re fucked"

Great.

Love that for me.

The room – I’m going to call it a ‘room’ because I don’t have any better ways of describing it – stretched out in every direction, an endless expanse of dark stone floor polished to a weird, reflective finish.

There were no obvious walls, nor a ceiling—just a disorienting abyss surrounding the floor. Somewhere above—or maybe below, I’m not so sure about any of this anymore—a low, steady boooooooom vibrated through the air and into the soles of my feet.

You know that moment in Disney's Pinocchio where the little wooden dude has been swallowed by the whale? Well, this is apparently Level 2 of this fucking tower.

Above me—or maybe below. Next to? On top of? My preposition game is really fucked in here—the air rippled and flexed in slow, nauseating waves. If I’d looked hard enough, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see veins pumping whatever passed for blood through out it.

The light was shitty.

And it wasn’t even light in the comforting, “hey, here’s a bit of illumination to help you find your way” sense. No, it was a bioluminescent, toxic glow that came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, casting shadows that shouldn’t have existed in a world that was trying to make do with three dimensions.

Every now and then, a flicker of movement would catch the corner of my eye, something darting just out of sight, leaving a slick, squelching sound in its wake.

“Great,” I said, squinting at the endless expanse. “A H.R. Giger wet dream. I am absolutely thrilled.”

It wasn’t clear to me whether the noise I was hearing was the structure itself making the sound or something lurking further ahead (Behind. Beneath. Above. You get what I’m saying?) Either way, it wasn’t a comforting sound.

For want of anything better to do, I took a cautious step forward, my boots leaving faint impressions in the spongy surface before it slowly oozed back into place. A notification popped up in my vision, cheerful and thoroughly unhelpful:

Hazard: Living Terrain Identified.

- Movement speed reduced by 20%.

- Chance of digestion: 15%.

“Of course,” I said. “Why just step into a nightmare when you can also become lunch?”

And then it hit me. Literally.

A blur shot out of the void, too fast to track, and slammed into my side like a freight train with a vendetta. My HP bar flashed in my vision, a chunk of it vanishing instantly as the impact sent me skidding across the smooth surface.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

-45 HP!

New Debuff: Venomous Gouge (5 HP loss per second for 30 seconds).

“What the fuck!” I yelled, scrambling back to my feet.

Another blur, this one slicing past my shoulder, narrowly missing but close enough to nick me. My HP ticked down again as a fresh debuff joined the party:

New Debuff: Shredded Tendons (Movement Speed Reduced by 25%).

“Fuck me!” I clutched my newest wound. My HP bar was already flashing angrily, and I’d only been here for about thirty seconds. At this rate, I was going to be a glowing pile of XP and regrets in no time.

New Objective: Survive the Hall of Frenzy.

- Optional: Figure Out What’s Attacking You.*

- Optional: Stop Screaming.

I couldn’t see shit.

Whatever was attacking me moved too fast, their forms smearing across my vision like afterimages of something I didn’t want to see clearly. Shadow and malice, darting in and out of the gloom with an unsettling, fluid grace.

The only warning was a faint, high-pitched whine—a noise that instantly triggered a long-buried memory of Mrs. Calloway’s history class and her lecture on doodlebugs during the Blitz.

“You don’t want to hear the whine stop,” she’d said, “If the whine stops, the bomb’s already dropped.”

That thought—delivered in Mrs. Calloway’s broad Brummie—lodged itself firmly in my brain just as the whine stopped.

Instinct took over, and I dove forward, landing awkwardly on the soft, rubbery terrain as something slashed through the air where I’d just been standing. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through my knees, but at least I still had knees. I don’t think I’d have walked away from another direct hit.

A notification popped as I scrambled to my feet:

Agility Check: Passed (Barely).

- You dodged. For now.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” I said. The thing—whatever it was—was already gone, leaving only a faint ripple in the darkness of the floor where it had impacted.

The whine started again, this time from a different direction.

My heart hammered as I spun, trying to pinpoint its source, but the sound echoed, bouncing off the unseen walls in a way that made it impossible to track.

Mrs. Calloway’s voice echoed in my head again, maddeningly calm: “If you can hear it, it’s already coming for you.”

“Helpful, Calloway,” I hissed.

The whine grew louder, rising to a piercing shriek. I dove again, this time to the side, just as something sharp and clawed tore through the air above me. It moved so fast I couldn’t even get a proper look at it—a flash of feather edges and dark tendrils that vanished into the gloom before I could react.

More notifications.

HP Reduced: 15%.

Debuff Applied: Lingering Fear (10% Focus).

The whine started again, this time from multiple directions.

My pulse raced as I realised I couldn’t dodge them all. My mind raced, searching for a strategy that wasn’t just “run around like an idiot and hope for the best.”

That’s when another memory from Mrs. Calloway’s class hit me.

She’d talked about how people during the Blitz coped, how they learned to hear the doodlebugs coming and adjust their routines to survive. It wasn’t just about running; it was about listening, about knowing when to duck and when to keep moving.

Fine, I thought, squaring my shoulders.

Let’s play.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the panic and focus on the sound.

The whine was louder now, splitting into multiple frequencies, each one a threat. I turned my head, trying to triangulate their positions, and realised they were closing in fast.

“Okay, Calloway,” I muttered under my breath. “Don’t let me down.”

Another hit. This one from behind, knocking me flat on my face. My HP bar dropped dangerously low, and yet another debuff notification chimed in:

New Debuff: Blood Frenzy (All enemies gain +15% Critical Hit Chance).

I rolled onto my back, panting, and caught a brief glimpse of something in the air above me. It wasn’t much—just a fleeting impression of spindly limbs, glinting claws, and something that might have been eyes but could just as easily have been blades.

Whatever it was, we weren’t destined to be friends.

And then it was gone.

“Oh, fantastic,” I muttered, dragging myself to my feet. My health bar was barely clinging on, and the debuffs stacking on me were turning my character sheet into a cautionary tale.

Meanwhile, the air buzzed with an ominous, rhythmic vibration, the sound of a predator circling its prey.

From somewhere in the darkness came a low, mocking laugh.

"Enjoying yourself, Rogue of Eldhaven?"

It was the Overseer. Of course it was.

“Yeah, loving it,” I called out, dodging another blur that grazed my arm and drained the last of my stamina. “Top-notch entertainment. Would definitely recommend to a friend.”

The laugh grew louder, echoing through the chamber. "You’ve done well to make it this far, but did you really think your luck would carry you? This is where the freeloading ends."

“Funny,” I said, clutching my ribs as I staggered forward. “I was going to say the same thing about your monologues.”

The Overseer didn’t reply, but the buzzing intensified, and the blurs multiplied. They were everywhere now, darting in and out of the shadows like sharks circling a wounded swimmer.

“Alright,” I muttered, scanning the room for anything resembling an exit. “Think, James. There’s got to be a way out of this.”

Another blur shot toward me, this time from the front. I raised my arms instinctively, and a notification flared in my vision:

Passive Skill Triggered: Lazy Reflexes (Enemies React Slower).

The blur hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, and rolled to my feet with all the grace of a drunk giraffe.

+1 Dodge

“Booyah,” I yelled, glancing around desperately. There had to be a pattern to this, some kind of clue. The System wouldn’t throw me into a no-win scenario, right?

Right?

And then I saw it. A faint glow, barely visible in the distance, like a lighthouse beckoning through a storm. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing in this godforsaken room that didn’t look like it wanted to kill me.

Hint: Sometimes the only way out is through.

“Great. Super inspirational. Thanks.” I broke into a run—or at least, a limp-jog. My shredded tendons made every step agony, but I gritted my teeth and pushed forward. Behind me, the buzzing grew louder, the blurs converging as they realised I was making a break for it.

Warning: Pursuit Intensifying.

“No kidding,” I panted, dodging another swipe from one of the creatures. My health bar was a sliver now, barely holding on, and the debuffs were stacking faster than I could keep track.

The glow grew brighter as I approached, revealing a circular platform surrounded by writhing, glowing runes. At its centre stood a pedestal, and on the pedestal… a lever.

Behind me, the blurs closed in, their high-pitched whines reaching an ear-splitting crescendo. I had seconds, maybe less.

With a final burst of stamina, I lunged onto the platform, grabbed the lever, and yanked it down.

The room exploded with light.