Owen darted into a nearby room just as the massive Dreadclaw barreled past, slamming into the wall with a deafening crash. Its tail lashed out, ripping through the flimsy plasterboard, slicing through the air just inches from his face.

Fueled by adrenaline and the ten points of Dexterity coursing through his body, Owen ran like the wind. Ignoring the sharp pain in his injured leg, he pushed forward, letting survival instinct take over. The acrid taste of bile burned at the back of his throat as he sprinted desperately from room to room, trying in vain to shake the monster. But he knew there was no escape. Even with his newfound speed, the beast was always just a step behind.

Blood dripped from the ceiling, splattering onto his white shirt and face as he dodged dismembered limbs littering the floor. One wrong step and he'd be dead before he could call for help.

His lungs burned as he reached his destination: the centre of the head office. In front of him stood a twisted spire of jagged rock that had burst from the ground, ending in a flat surface. Behind it, a gaping hole in the floor beckoned. But there was no time to celebrate. The Dreadclaw was right behind him, it's hot breath sending chills down his spine.

Without thinking, Owen sprinted towards the spire and leaped for the Lord Shard. Words flashed in his vision, but he dismissed them in a panic. Pain exploded across his back as the Dreadclaw’s claws raked his flesh, hot blood soaking his shirt. He hit the ground hard, his shoulder slamming against the floor as he tumbled into the hole, crashing down to the next level.

He landed in a heap among the ruined corpses below. Above him, the Dreadclaw screeched in fury, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Owen looked up just in time to see the beast plummet from the office, its massive form hurtling down to its death.

A notification appeared in his vision:

You have obtained a Lord’s Shard. Your Lordship within the Land Between is guaranteed. Congratulations, candidate.

Increasing all Attributes by 5.

Warmth flooded his body, power surging through his veins. For a brief moment, he felt invincible. But as quickly as it came, the feeling faded, replaced by a wave of exhaustion as the adrenaline crashed. His body slumped, breathing heavy as the weight of it all hit him at once.

He groaned in pain and stumbled down the pile of corpses. Bile rose up and he couldn’t help but let it out. It took great effort to make it back to the stairwell, but the risk was worth it. The others were fine thanks to their Talents. But as he only gained one single point per Level, he needed this. Of course, the other benefits were also incredible. With the added stats, power, strength, he'd be able to help the others get one too. He knew where they were, roughly.

Finally, he stumbled to where Callan had formed a turtle shell on the stairs. All the railings were gone, and it took great strain to stop himself from falling down the seemingly bottomless drop.

“It’s a monster!” someone shouted from behind the defences.

“I’m not,” Owen said, climbing the stairs only thanks to the new attributes powering his body.

The turtle shell opened up, revealing wide eyed expressions from everyone. Caroline was the first to rush forward and help support him. Owen was covered head-to-toe in thick blood. He could taste it, and if not for having any bile left in his stomach, would have continued to release his insides because of it.

Caroline’s hand pressed against his back and Owen’s mind turned blank. He seethed, spittle ejecting out from the gaps of his teeth. Caroline peered back and gasped at the sight.

“Is it bad?” Owen trembled from the sheer amount of pain torturing him.

“We need to get you somewhere safe,” she said, practically pulling him up the stairs. It was then that Owen noticed the fear on everyone's faces. They had seen something they shouldn’t have. Owen glanced at the door.

“We opened it,” Louis said, pale. “How… how can anything do something like that.”

“The bodies,” Grace whispered, suddenly covering her mouth, her face pale.

Owen slumped on the stairwell as Caroline worked on his leg. It took everything in him not to scream, the pain throbbing deep in his bones. He would have, if it weren’t for the fear of drawing more Dreadclaws. The warrior was gone, but it wouldn’t be long before a scout came to investigate. They’d want to know what—or who—was responsible for the death.

After what felt like an eternity, Caroline finished wrapping his wound. The fresh gauze was nearly used up, with some t-shirts torn into strips to keep it all in place. Owen’s head swam with exhaustion, but there was no time to rest.

“Owen,” Callan said, frowning. “You mind telling us why you went in there? How did you know everyone on those floors was slaughtered?”

All eyes were on him now, their gazes sharp and questioning.

Owen sighed, nodding. Finally, he decided to tell them a white lie. “I have a skill that lets me see things... like how you can summon and control metal.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us that before?” Louis asked, his voice edged with frustration.

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” Owen admitted. “I figured you’d think I was crazy.”

“What did you find in there?” Jock pressed. “What else are you hiding, Owen?”

Owen felt the weight of their suspicion. He hadn’t expected it to turn out this way. He was too focused on survival, too intent on getting the Lord Shard. His future. But now, it was time to come clean. What’s done is done, he thought. It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“There was a Lord Shard in the room,” Owen admitted. “It was guarded by a stronger Dreadclaw. I didn’t want any of you to come in because it was too dangerous. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt. That’s the truth.”

“Then what exactly is a Lord Shard?” Jock asked, narrowing his eyes. “You must know if you risked your life to get your hands on it.”

Owen nodded. “It’s a ticket to become a Lord in the Land Between. It also grants 5 into all Attributes right away.”

“A lord?” Louis scoffed. “What, you get a castle and a crown or something?”

Owen shook his head, his voice more earnest now. “I don’t know everything, but yeah, it’s something like that. My Skill only tells me so much, and I just... did what I thought was right in the moment.” He looked directly at Louis. “You know me. I’d never willingly put anyone’s life in danger. This was on the way down—only my life was at risk, not yours.”

Jock’s eyes narrowed, his voice tight with anger. “And what about Jim? Was his life not worth anything?”

Owen’s throat tightened, and guilt flickered across his face. “I know,” he said softly. “Jim didn’t deserve what happened.”

Caroline stepped in before things escalated. “Jock, Jim was gone the moment he got that wound. There was nothing Owen, I, or anyone could do about it.”

Jock shifted, his frustration still simmering. “So was all that talk about leaving for the station just a load of crap?” His face reddened with anger.

“No,” Owen said firmly. “We need to get there before the week is over. And Caroline was right. If your family’s out there, the station’s the logical place for them to go—if they’ve left home, that is.”

“And the station’s safe?” someone from the back asked.

“As far as I know, yes. But getting there will still be dangerous,” Owen replied.

Jock interrupted, his voice tense. “Hold on—let’s not forget that Owen risked all our lives for something that only benefits him. What if this Lord Shard is a one-way ticket, and the rest of us are left behind?”

Jock’s words hit too close to the truth, but Owen remained silent. He knew the reality: those chosen by the System would be taken into the new world. The rest, the ones left behind, would remain on Earth, left to fend for themselves until the System holders returned. Owen felt the weight of that knowledge, but he couldn’t share it. Gods were watching. He was limited by what he could tell them.

"Alright," Louis said, stepping forward. “It doesn’t matter. We should keep moving. I don’t like staying here.”

"Hold on,” Jock said, stopping Louis. “Doesn’t matter?" Jock’s face flushed with anger as he advanced toward Owen. "If he’s the only one with a ticket, we’re screwed."

Louis blocked Jock’s path. "We don’t have time for this. We need to focus on the bigger picture. Our families might be out there. Arguing about this isn’t going to bring them back."

Caroline nodded, her voice calm but firm. "Louis is right. There’s no point fighting over it now." She turned to Owen, her gaze sharp. "Are there more Lord Shards here? Jock’s right, Owen. Taking it for yourself without telling us leaves a sour taste in my mouth."

Owen hesitated, then answered, "There’s one on the top floor. But I’m sure someone’s taken it by now. There’s more in the streets. I’m pretty sure I can get everyone one if we’re careful."

At that, a flicker of greed flashed across a few faces, their thoughts already drifting to the possibilities. Callan, however, stayed focused. "Owen," he said, voice low. "Is it really like Jock said? A one-way ticket just for you?"

Owen shook his head. "No. Everyone chosen by the System gets taken to the Land Between. The Lord Shard just guarantees someone the title of Lord—the ability to start your own kingdom. One of the benefits I know is that they start with a dome of protection. That’s all."

“Then how much do you know, exactly?” Caroline inquired.

“I know the location of the Shards, and I know how to defeat the Dreadclaws,” Owen said, his voice strained as the pain from his wound pulsed through him. He took a breath, his eyes scanning the group. “But as for anything about the other world, or how this whole thing works… I don’t have a clue. I’m telling you the truth—my Skill is limited.”

Everyone looked at him, as if trying to discern if he was lying. Owen appeared calm. The same couldn’t be said for his insides.

Grace crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “And how exactly did you get this Skill?”

Owen shook his head, worried about having his lie exposed. His hands turned clammy. “I don’t know. It just... happened. The moment the System arrived, it was like something switched on inside me. I didn’t ask for it, didn’t choose it. I wish I knew more, but I don’t.”

Callan studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright then. Let’s keep moving."

"That’s it?" Jock barked, incredulous. "We’re just supposed to trust him, like he’s some kind of prophet?"

"Maybe he is," Callan replied, locking eyes with Owen. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something between suspicion and belief. Camaraderie?

Jock opened his mouth to argue, but Caroline cut him off. "This isn’t the place to debate it. We need to move. Owen’s told us what we need to know, and we have a mission: survive and reach the station. Let’s focus on that."

With a final look of frustration, Jock turned away, but the tension in the group lingered. Owen, feeling the weight of their scrutiny and mistrust, leaned against the stairwell railing. His body ached, his mind even more so.

As they gathered their supplies and prepared to move out, Owen’s thoughts drifted back to the Shard now in his System. Though he had downplayed its significance to the others, he knew that it meant something far greater than any of them realised. But although it brought with it the promise of building an empire, it was also a great curse.

There was a reason many System holders decided to become Adventurers, even when given the opportunity to become a Lord. Not many people wanted enemies on all sides.

Caroline nudged closer, lowering her voice so the others couldn’t hear. “It’s okay, Owen.”

He gave her a weak smile as they descended the stairs, his heart still heavy.

“But listen,” she continued gently, “next time, fill us in. You may know more about what’s coming, but we don’t.”

Owen nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I got caught up in everything. I wasn’t thinking straight, and… I let the panic take over.” He took a deep breath, meeting her eyes. “I’ll be honest with everyone from now on.”

Caroline’s expression softened. “Good. Remember, we’re in this hell together.”

***

They reached the lobby and it was a scene from hell. Having the scenes of the future embedded in his mind, Owen tried his best to steel himself beforehand. But it was impossible. A fury that was hard to describe built up, threatening to burst out. He recognised many of the people, those that he passed every day. He didn't know their names, but there was little difference. They were living the same life he was; one of monotony and boredom. Now they were dead.

Owen forced himself to remain calm.

It was strange. If he was placed into the story, then he should only be seeing ‘characters’ from the book. But that wasn’t the case. He recognised them, and that meant that instead of entering the book, the book had merged with his own world. Seamlessly.

Did Ansel know of the change? Would he?

Just how much exactly would change because of it?