As I worked through the ramifications of all these freaking blue boxes, another one popped up.

Good luck!

I barely had a chance to read it before the red surface of the university’s running track and the green grass of the infield faded from view, leaving me in a softly lit gray void.

Guess what happened next. Yep, you got it—another freaking blue box.

Greetings, Dirtling. Welcome to the first stage of the trials.

“First stage?” I said, more to myself than anything else. “You mentioned rounds last time?”

Are you sure you want to know? There’s no real point since it’s so unlikely you’ll make it that far.

The fact that I got an answer surprised the heck out of me, but information equaled power. I fully intended to press any advantage I had as far as I could, so ignoring the insults and general snarkiness, I said, “Yes, please.”

Fine. It should be obvious to you that I'm using "stage" to refer generally to either a round of a trial or, if a trial consists of only a single round, an entire trial. Thus, there are five total stages.

To be fair, the entity was correct. I should have figured that out on my own.

Still, though, it was pretty darn difficult to wrap my head around what was happening. Before even really thinking about it, I blurted out my next question, “What happens if I don’t make it?”

You’ll be dead, obviously. Duh!

The confirmation hit me pretty hard. Death was something that happened to old people, like my grandmother when I was little. Sure, bad things can happen to anyone, but that was rare. I was a healthy twenty-year-old, and no one I knew in my age range had ever passed. My own mortality just wasn’t something I’d ever had to confront.

This situation sucked. If I didn’t gain enough power in these trials, I’d probably end up dying, but if I took too many risks now, I’d … probably end up dying. Great choice.

As I was contemplating my fate, yet another box appeared. I was beginning to completely detest these things.

Name: Penelope Abigail Mitchel Att: 0 HP: 1 Special: None Unallocated Points: None

That box faded, and another one took its place.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Trial 1 Round 1, choose between: Combat Endurance Puzzle

As I stood there staring at the harsh white letters, my heart beat like a hammer. Things were getting real.

The box blinked.

Trial 1 Round 1, choose between: Combat Endurance Puzzle If you can't decide, I can pick for you.

Yeah, I was sure any decision that the entity made for me would totally be in my best interest.

“No thanks,” I said. “I can do it.”

The obvious implication of the offer, though, was that I didn’t have an infinite amount of time to make my choice.

“C’mon, Penni,” I told myself. “Get your head in the game. Think.”

From what the boxes had already told me, there were going to be five rounds, the first of which was mandatory and should be relatively easy. Subsequent rounds would get harder and harder.

“Can I choose the same type of trial next time?” I said.

Nope. Use it and lose it.

That was what I figured. “So if I choose combat first and endurance second, I’d be left with puzzle for the third?”

Yeah. Duh.

“Let me guess," I said, thinking about all those webnovels Ben read, "my opponent for combat in the first round would be easier than the opponent of another person who chooses it for the third round, right?”

Maybe you’re not a complete imbecile after all. Congratulations!

Endurance put in my mind running, something that I enjoyed, and honestly, I’d never been afraid of hard work. Puzzle should rely on intelligence, one of my stronger traits. Combat, on the other hand, was easily the least advantageous for me. I’d never taken martial arts or self defense or anything like that, never been in a single fight in my life.

The decision came down to whether I was going to go for power or to play it safe. For the former, I’d choose combat first, assigning my weakest category to the easiest round. Frankly, though, the thought of fighting someone or something with my life on the line freaking terrified me. My inclination was to choose one of the others and then quit, avoiding combat altogether. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head, though, that not seizing as much of an advantage as I could right now would be a mistake.

“Can you tell me anything about what’s going to happen in the next stages or after the trials?” I said.

Nope.

Of course not. Actually giving me enough information to base my decision on would have been way too easy.

There was no thought in my mind about this decision being about bravery versus cowardice or anything like that. My focus was simply on which choice was the smartest, the most logical, based on all the information I had on hand.

“Fine,” I said. “I choose combat.”