He took a deep breath. It was real, all of it was, so he needed to treat it as such. Owen worked his mind, trying to recall the beginning of the story. The mission to enter the subway station was, at first glance, an easy one. But he knew it was anything but. Also, little did anyone know that the time limit of 7 days was an absolute. It wasn’t possible to enter after it; because as the clock struck midnight on the 7th day; you were dead. Your soul would implode.

Owen squeezed his toes into the bottom of his shoes. If he wanted the best chance of survival, he’d also need to acquire a Lord Shard. He had chosen the ‘Extra’ beginning, giving him the worst talent available. But as a result, he’d obtain a God-like Lord Emblem. For that, he needed that Shard.

As everyone was busy arguing and gazing out at the window, Owen, with a heavy heart, thought of the words he had read about only moments before.

System, open.

Name: Owen Taylor

| Race: Human

| Level: 1

| Talent: 1-Star

Traits:

| Lord Emblem: N/A

| Class: N/A

| Titles: N/A

| Spectres: N/A

| Fragments: N/A

Attributes:

| Strength: 7

| Vitality: 7

| Dexterity: 6

| Magic: 5

| Mana: 4

Skills (0/12):

Upon seeing the Talent: 1-Star, his fingernails stabbed into his fleshy palm. Depending on what Star one awakened to, determined how many Stat points they could add every Level. And a 1-Star Talent meant that only one point would be available for distribution. It was a pitiful amount. Ansel himself managed to reach the 10-Star Talent.

An Extra, Owen thought, his lips curling into a self deprecating smile.

A blood curdling scream ripped him out of his System. It was below them, the sounds filtering in through the gaps of the stairwell door. He had to block the door or get help. He tried moving, but he found his body locked into position. All he felt was the beating of his own heart.

Move. I need to block the door. I know what happens next, Owen thought, and with a final push of his mind, broke free from the fear holding him back. While running to the door, he shouted.

“Louis, we need to block the door—now!” Owen’s voice was urgent, barely containing his panic.

“On it!” Louis responded, his face turning serious as he grabbed whatever he could to help.

Just at that moment, a young woman wearing a pencil skirt and dirty white shirt pushed it open, falling down on the ground. The door swung open, smashing into Owen. It didn’t hurt, at least not while a metric tonne of adrenaline was pumping through his blood. The other people continued to the other side of the office, to the other stairwell.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

More joined them, practically stampeding over the woman. Owen dragged her to safety. The other people continued to the other side of the office, over to the other stairwell. They were most likely trying to get as high as possible. They all had a look in their eyes as if they’d seen war. Or something worse.

A set of claws emerged from the door. Owen’s eyes bulged. He moved by pure instinct. Sprinting at the door, he slammed it as hard as he could using his shoulder as a battering ram. With a sickening snap, its claws shattered. The monster roared in pain. Louis froze.

“Louis, table, now!” Owen screamed, his voice shaking with desperation. Louis darted into action, but it was already too late.

With a bone-shaking roar, the beast crashed through the door, splintering the wood and bending the metal frame. The force of the impact hurled Owen backward, his body slamming into a cubicle with a jarring thud that left him gasping for breath.

For a split second, Owen froze, mind blank with fear.

Then a blast of white foam exploded over the creature’s face, blinding it. Jock had fired the extinguisher again. Seizing the moment, Owen kicked at the beast, but his foot might as well have hit a wall. Before he could react, the Draedclaw's razor-sharp claw came crashing down, slicing into his leg. A scream tore from his throat as searing pain shot up his body.

“Get off him!” Callan bellowed, charging forward with reckless courage. He slammed into the Dreadclaw, dislodging its claw from Owen’s leg. The creature stumbled, but Callan’s momentum wasn’t enough to throw it off. Still, its vision was impaired, and Callan took full advantage. Wrapping his arms around the beast’s torso, he clung to it with everything he had, muscles straining as the monster thrashed.

Owen’s leg throbbed, blood soaking his pants, but there was no time to dwell on it.

“Owen, here!” Caroline’s voice cut through the chaos, unnervingly steady. Something small clattered to the floor beside him. A stapler. Of all things.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed it, dragging himself to his feet. His leg screamed in protest, but he ignored it. He stumbled toward the struggling creature, determination overtaking fear. Callan, seeing him approach, tightened his grip, veins bulging as he tried to keep the Dreadclaw still.

Owen raised the stapler high and, with a primal scream, slammed it into the Draedclaw’s eye. The beast shrieked, its body convulsing in agony. In its frenzy, it lashed out, claws raking across Callan’s chest, sending him flying into a nearby cubicle. He hit with a sickening crunch, blood immediately soaking his shirt from the deep gash across his chest.

“Callan!” Owen cried, panic clawing at him as he collapsed to the floor, unable to keep weight on his injured leg. Callan groaned. He was alive, at least.

The Dreadclaw, though injured, was still dangerous.

Owen’s heart sank as he saw Louis bolt around a corner, disappearing from sight. He felt like his stomach had dropped. He was abandoning them. But then, moments later, Louis reappeared, dragging an office chair behind him, his face twisted in a mix of terror and rage.

“Take this, you bastard!” Louis roared, pushing the chair with all his strength. It slammed into the Dreadclaw, knocking it off balance and toward the door. The weight of the beast leaned on the rolling chair.

An idea sparked as Owen shouted, “We need to get it out of here! Louis, help me push it toward the stairs!”

Ignoring their injuries, they heaved the thrashing creature toward the stairwell, weight offset by the chair. With a final shove, they sent the Dreadclaw crashing through the door, stumbling backwards. The creature tumbled over the railing, falling straight down the well-hole. The beast screeched, until finally, with one last sickening thud, the beast lay still.

You have defeated a Dreadclaw x1

| Owen Taylor level 1 -> 3

| You have 2 Stat points to assign.

| Louis Craig has obtained a Fragment.

Owen limped to the edge, peering down. The Dreadclaw lay at the bottom, a pool of blood forming around its broken body. They were on the 32nd floor. It was a long way down. He exhaled shakily, relief washing over him.

But then, halfway down the stairs, a shadow moved. Owen’s heart lurched as he saw another creature, its monstrous head leering up at him from below. Its glowing eyes locked onto his, and it let out a horrifying, seal-like crow, the sound chilling him to his core.

Owen’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew what that sound meant. More were coming, and fast. His mind raced. How could they stop it? Fight again? They barely survived this one.

He slumped against the wall, his breath ragged, and said with deadly seriousness, “We need to block the door. Right now.”

Just as they shut the door, as much as it would anyway half broken, a new message arrived. One that Owen was expecting.

Class Selection imminent… Please pick carefully.

Panting heavily, Owen glanced at the message, then back at the battered door. Without wasting a second, he and Louis bolted into the office, scrambling to fortify whatever they could. Every second counted as they hastily readied their defences, the weight of the impending threat pressing down on them like a vice.