[Start.]

At the Voice’s command, Dev opened her eyes. The bright light caused her vision to blur and water for a moment. As she blinked and carefully rubbed them away her other senses woke up and relayed their own observations. The first thing was the cold. It spread from the wall she found herself leaning against, penetrating uncomfortably into her. The second thing that came after was the smell. A heavy metallic scent mixed with several sharp and distinctly chemical odors. Next was the sound—or lack thereof. Silence was the ruler, a quiet stillness that caused flowers of uneasiness to bloom inside her chest. And as if rushing to catch up with the other senses before sight came back and hogged the sensational spotlight once more, the taste of her own dry and slightly sour mouth appeared as a final prelude.

Her eyes now cleared and adapted to the light, at last came sight. Greeting it were four white walls, their surfaces polished so perfectly they reflected the light from the lone yet glaringly bright lightbulb about four feet from the top of her head. Dev held that image in her gaze for a few moments before breaking away. Now wasn't the time for her to get caught up in a memory, especially in one so distant and impossible that it might as well be a dream.

On the wall opposite of her was a door. It was big, bulky and looked very intimidating; the kind of door that you’d expect to see in the solitary ward of a prison or a military bunker. The door hung ajar, opening up just enough to allow her to peek into the hallway beyond.

Streaks of blood painted the portion of the wall she could see. On the floor before it was an arm attached to a hand and nothing else. The blood pooling around the mangled stump on the opposite end made the sharp, jagged piece of bone peaking out stand proudly against the red background. A singular piece of white in a bloodstained crimson world.

Dev shut her eyes and suppressed a shiver, pulling her tattered jacket around her shoulders in vain. Her stomach groaned, half in pain at its emptiness and half in nausea at the scene. A stream of acidic bile crawled up her throat, urging her to throw up with staunch persistence. Fear, disgust and something else squirmed inside her, making it difficult for her to breathe. The constricting feeling around her chest wasn't going away, becoming stronger by the second.

This isn't real, she thought, trying to calm herself. The blood, the bone, everything. Its all code. A few streams of code is nothing to be afraid of… Right? It was a question asked to no one in particular. A absentminded part at the end of a pep talk that might have worked if it wasn't for a tiny but convincing voice lurking in the deepest recesses of her mind. It didn't need to say much. It only took a few words and choice selections of truth to kick her back down to where she started.

“Go away.” she whispered. It didn't comply of course. Mutterings that came from the depths of one’s own subconscious rarely cared much for what the surface mind had to say. They were as apathetic as they were formless and useless to argue with. Though, based on the damage they did to it, it wouldn't be hard to imagine them yelling “Fuck you” to the surface mind while proudly displaying their middle fingers for it to see.

The mutterings grew louder. As they did, their tone changed, playing off her fear. From quiet facts she’d rather not know to malicious whispers that poked and prodded at her insecurities, keeping her off mentally balance and on the ground, wasting more and more time. It was stupid of her. Letting herself be paralyzed by of problems of her own making.

“Fuck. Off.” Dev spat, gritting her teeth so hard she felt them creak. The mutterings and queasiness vanished instantly as a tendril of hot fire ran its course through her veins. She felt her back become riddled with goosebumps as an chilly, electric sensation ran up and down her spine, a strange heat trailing swiftly after it.

Taking a deep breath, Dev opened her eyes and shot to her feet. She would not be a coward. The bloody scene terrified her, but if she couldn't even push through the beginning stages, what would she do when the real horrors and challenges came out? From what she’d heard severed limbs and blood were the least of what M-AGE had to offer. A lot had been sacrificed to give her this opportunity. She was not allowed waste it.

Dev took two steps forward before tripping, consequently sending herself sprawling across the floor.

“Ow~” Dev whined, rolling onto her butt and rubbing her right shoulder which had taken the brunt of her fall. In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have gotten up that fast.

[You have received 2 points of Damage.]

[Current Hit Points: 48/50]

Her face burned with embarrassment. Stupid, Dev. Way to go.

[For your efforts, you have received the Skill『Clumsy』]

[『Clumsy』: If equipped, -1 Skill, -1 Perception, -30% Movement Speed, 60% chance of tripping with each action.]

Yeah, Dev, way to go, you stupid.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

After berating herself a few more times, Dev got up—slowly this time—and continued walking. Silently, she thanked any god that was watching that there was no one around to see what had happened. A bit of private embarrassment was one thing, but she couldn't handle another self-caused public shaming.

If anyone was watching, though, it wouldn’t be hard for them to notice that the bounce in her step was lesser and that her shoulders were drooped lower compared to when she made her first move. Suffice to say, whatever drive she managed to muster had taken quite the hit.

She reached forward and grabbed at the the door—the cold handle nipped at her hand, causing her to gasp—and pushed it open, suppressing the shaking of her hand and arm while doing so. Despite it’s size, the door was deceptively lighter than she expected. It slid open easily and soundlessly almost as if it was automated. Dev herself nearly experienced another fall when she literally threw almost everything she had at it, thinking it to be as heavy as it looked. Fortunately, she was able to regain her footing quick enough to spare herself further bruising of her ego.

She stumbled out clumsily into the hallway. She slammed her frontmost foot down hard, breaking right before tumbled into edge of the bloody mess. Starting from the tip of her foot, her eyes were once again drawn to the eerie whiteness of that exposed bit of bone. Dev felt her stomach begin to turn so she quickly looked away. Immediately, she felt her blood turn cold.

The blood staining the wall wasn't only limited to the portion she could see from inside the cell. It covered nearly every part of the corridor in front of her, crawling across the floor like a carpet of rust and reaching all the way up to ceiling, blocking a significant portion of lights, leaving almost half of the hallway darker than it should have been. The blood congregated the most near the door at the end. The surface of the floor was covered in grime so thick it would take weeks of steel wool and chemical grade acid to scrape off.

What caused Dev to backpedal until her back slammed into another wall, however, were the bodies. Or more accurately, the fragments of them. Half a torso here. A foot there. And pile of unidentifiable red mush that she hoped wasn't a person despite knowing better. Not a single corpse was whole. The closest thing there was to intact was a torso propped up against the wall. Only the torso. No head or arms, just the torso. The only way she was able to tell it was different from another hunk of meat was because of the gristly rib bones that unashamedly peaked out of the tattered skin.

“Oh, God.” Gripping the wall for support, Dev turned to one side and heaved. She clamped her free hand over her mouth and forced it shut before she could vomit anything out. The acidic bile that burned her throat going up did the same as she swallowed it back down. She wiped the mess on her hand on the wall and dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach as a series of chocking coughs and cold sweats wracked her body.

Her form shook as her body’s desire to throw up collided with her minds decision not to do so. It was hard, but a lifetime’s of experience of keeping food down wasn't something that could be beat by a moment of shocked nausea…even if it was the most disgusting thing she had ever had the displeasure of laying her eyes upon.

She got back onto her feet, her knees wobbling more unsteadily that she would like. Ideally, she preferred they not wobble at all, but she knew better than to expect that from herself. Still, it disappointed her that once again, once again—and not even five minutes from the last one—she had ended up in a situation that displayed how embarrassingly unqualified she was for her current duty. A dead body or two—most likely way more going by the amount of blood, though—was nothing to lose her lunch over. She was sure that if any of the others were in her position, they would have left the cell and been out the bloody door in less time than it took for her to open her eyes. And they would have done it without sparing so much as a glance at the gore that had so crippled her.

Dev dug her fingernails into her palm, drawing a bit of blood, the slight pain clearing her head somewhat. With a shaky hand she reached into the pocket of her coat and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her chosen beginner weapon. A comfortable, secure feeling spread through her body from the point of contact. All that doesn't matter, she consoled herself, as long as I have this with me, it doesn't matter of much of a coward or failure I am. Tightening her grip around it, Dev turned back towards the hallway. The nightmare inducing scene remained unchanged, but the sense of security she felt from her weapon made it tolerable…somewhat.

Dev locked on to the bloody door at the end and started to make her way towards it. Her bare feet tentatively slid their way across the floor. With each step the tar-like blood clung to the her soles like glue. She suppressed another shiver and kept her mind focused and her body on the move; the less time she spent thinking about the things that could get to her, the less chances they actually would. Ignoring things and hoping they disappeared. Such was the way of the coward.

Still, despite its less-than-positive implications, the tactic worked wonders for her. Dev made it to the front of the door with nary a moment of dumb hesitation. Squeezing a her weapon to draw a bit more courage, Dev reached for the blood-soaked handle and slowly twist—

Remember not to move too fast. Take things slow and methodical. M-AGE is filled with opportunities, you don't want to miss out on them because you were rushing or not looking hard enough.

Dev let go of the handle and walked back down the hallway, Horus’ words and briefings on M-AGE ringing loudly in her ears.

Don't treat it too much like a game. It technically is one, but if you expect it to be like the ones you can play on your holo-boards, you’ll lose instantly. So treat it like reality? Wrong again. Treat it like reality and you'll miss out on a lot of opportunities. It's quite complicated but the best way I can describe it as is “reality if it operated on game mechanics and logic”.

Their golden-haired, eagle-eyed captain had spent no small amount of time drilling that idea into their heads. “Reality as if it operated like a game”. Indecipherable nonsense to anybody who wasn't his student or was selected for M-AGE. They went through a lot of complicated lectures elaborating on what that statement meant, but currently there was only one that applied.

Please for the love of God, don't go anywhere without checking every nook and cranny for that sweet, sweet loot.