"Hunting at night plunges one into a world where shadows dance and the familiar becomes mysterious. In the cover of darkness, the mind is often beguiled by illusions, as shapes shift and phantom movements stir the periphery of vision. In such an environment, it is imperative to trust one's gut instincts, for they cut through the deception of the night. Keep a light close, for its glow is a beacon of clarity amidst the murk, illuminating the path and steadying the heart against the tricks that shadows play." – Excerpt from “Book of Elara”

  Maverick stirred in his sleep, the weight of the day's events pressing down on him even in slumber. In his dream, Maverick found himself on a beach, sipping a spiked lemonade. The sun was warm against his skin, and a gentle salty breeze drifted by. He watched as Emily, laughing and carefree, built her sandcastles and proudly declared her new kingdom of Sandalot complete. Everything seemed perfect, idyllic. Families and tourists filled the beach, enjoying the bright day. Yet, something felt off, gnawing at the edge of his awareness.

  The longer he looked, the more wrong it all seemed. The laughter of children, the distant chatter, the sound of crashing waves—everything was too still. The scene was frozen, like an image paused in time. Maverick frowned as unease crept up his spine. He tried to stand, but his body would not respond. Thick leather straps materialized around his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the chair. The sand beneath his feet began to shift, suddenly treacherous, pulling him down like quicksand.

  "Emily!" Maverick called out, his voice slicing through the eerie silence. But Emily was no longer Emily. Her body elongated, twisted, her limbs stretching grotesquely, her face warping into something monstrous. Her laughter turned into a distorted gurgle, her sandcastle crumbling beneath her twisted form. Maverick looked around, horrified, as the rest of the beachgoers became equally distorted—grotesque parodies of people, with limbs bent at impossible angles and faces that were smooth and featureless.

  Above, the sky shifted as the bright sun was eclipsed by a burning red mass. The blue sky turned a deep crimson, the warmth replaced by a chilling darkness that seeped into Maverick's bones. He struggled against the straps, but they only tightened, the leather biting into his skin, leaving bruises in shades of deep purple and blue. The sand continued to rise, covering his chest, his arms pinned tightly, his body sinking further into the earth.

  Panic clawed at him, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the sand reached his neck. The once soft grains now felt coarse and suffocating, dragging him deeper with each movement. The grotesque figures surrounded him, their bodies jerking unnaturally, as though pulled by invisible strings. He could hear their labored breathing, a chorus of rasping gasps, as they gathered around to watch him sink.

  The sand reached his chin, then his mouth, filling it with a dry, gritty bitterness. He tried to scream, but no sound emerged. The world above blurred, the red sky fading as the sand covered his eyes, plunging him into darkness.

  In the void, there was silence. A silence so profound it was deafening, pressing in on him, suffocating him in its emptiness. And then, a voice—a voice without a face, a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

  "Maverick," it said, the syllables stretching, echoing through the darkness. The voice was cold, emotionless, yet heavy with an ancient weight, as if it carried the knowledge of countless lifetimes. "You fight for a world that is already lost. The silence will come, and it will claim all. The chosen of the Azure Flame will fall, one by one, until none remain."

  Maverick tried to speak, tried to move, but he was paralyzed, the darkness pressing in on him from all sides. The voice continued a low, ominous whisper. "You cannot stop what is coming. The silence is inevitable, and it will consume all light, all hope."

  Suddenly, a flicker of green appeared in the distance—a tiny flame that grew steadily brighter. The darkness recoiled, retreating from the light, and Maverick felt a strange warmth wash over him. The flame grew, revealing itself as a figure—a small woman cloaked in dark green flames that licked at the darkness, forcing it back.

  "That's enough," she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the void. The faceless presence seemed to waver, the air around Maverick vibrating as if in protest.

  The woman stepped forward, her flames casting eerie shadows that danced across the blackness. She glanced at Maverick, her eyes hidden beneath the flickering glow. "This one is not yours to take," she said, her tone commanding, each word a pulse of power that pushed the darkness further away.

  The faceless voice hissed, a sound like wind through a dead forest, but it began to fade, the oppressive weight lifting from Maverick's chest. The green flames flared brighter, and Maverick felt the sand loosen, his body slowly freed from its suffocating grip. Before control was completely regained, the woman spoke once again, “A chosen of the silence hunts you. Find the other like you in the forest before it’s too late.”

  And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the nightmare shattered. Maverick gasped, his eyes snapping open, his body drenched in sweat. He lay on the cold cot, his heart pounding, and the echoes of the faceless voice still whispering in the back of his mind.

  He tried to sit up, his breath ragged, but a weight held him down. Emily had moved her cot next to his, her form outlined by the dim lantern they had set up. He looked at her, his heart still racing, the sense of dread lingering. He could still feel the sand, the straps, the weight of the darkness—and the presence of that faceless man, his words echoing ominously in Maverick's mind.

  The silence will come, and it will claim all.

  Nevertheless, as he looked at Emily, a sense of determination settled in him. Whatever or whoever was coming, no matter what darkness lay ahead, he wasn't going to give in—not without a fight.

  Knowing sleep was no longer achievable Maverick pulled the thin blanket closer. Its presence comforting his mind, and pushing the thoughts away. As his body settled and the minutes flew by, thoughts and hopes coming and going until a golden Oracle window appeared before his eyes.

  **Oracle’s Decree**

  Global Announcement

  Quest Update

  **Regional Adjustment**

  Limited 4 hours until sunrise

  “Greetings once again, in light of humanities unexpected resiliency, an alteration will be made to the Survival Trial. Roughly six and a half billion humans remain, of the initial ten billion. For the next four hours, the roaming monsters will grow in power, and savagery. While only temporary, it will get things moving in the right direction. Previously the monsters in an area only reacted to humans within a specified proximity, they will now actively seek out humanity. Hiding or running is not recommended. They will find you. Fight as best you can to see the morning light.

  Embrace the challenge, for fortune favors the bold as your kind say. Those who slay monsters during this time will receive event points. Those points can be cashed in when the Night Hunt ends. Powerful boons, weapons, gear and if fate is kind, class shards to aid in your survival.”

  **Regional Adjustment**

  Nocturna Isle

  Oracle’s Update

  “Due to your region being under the full moons gaze, double points will be rewarded as your survival will be more perilous. Monsters in your region will be enhanced by the moons power, causing unexpected mutations. Watch your back, trust your companions, and do not let the darkness fool you.”

  “Well shit,” Maverick thought to himself as he finished reading the prompt. “Four hours of being hunted, Emily is going to be pissed she didn’t get her full beauty sleep.”

  Maverick carefully climbed out of the cot, and adorned his equipment. Accessing his bag, having turned into more of a sling style bag. Maverick used the bags interface to pull out a few items he’d been meaning to take a look at. The three unused skill books and the locked wooden box. Maverick examined the leather bound books, the largest and oldest glowed a soft purple, while the second glowed blue and the final smallest book a barely noticeable green.

  “Lets start with the uncommon one,” Maverick thought as he opened the book. As he examined the pages filled with strange alien symbols, they began to move. Slowly at first but eventually shifted into a mixture of Spanish and English.

  **System Notice**

  Would you like to learn the ability **Parry**

  Allows weapon user to deflect incoming melee attacks, reducing damage or avoiding it entirely.

  Cost: Stamina

  Yes/No

  Feeling the sword at his hip, Maverick tried to recall everything he could from the TVO forums about the parry skill. From his memory, at lower levels, parry was more of a defensive technique—a way to avoid damage rather than deal it. But as one gained experience, it evolved into a powerful, indispensable ability for almost every sword user. It seemed like an obvious choice, and with a determined nod, Maverick selected 'yes.'

  At first, nothing happened. The dark room remained silent, the translated pages in front of him lying still. He frowned, wondering if he had made the right decision. Then, slowly, the words on the pages shifted, rearranging themselves until a small glowing window projected from the book. Maverick leaned closer, his eyes widening as a video began to play.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  In the projection, Maverick saw himself—an echo of himself—parrying attacks from a shadowy figure wielding an all-black blade. The movements were fluid and precise, each deflection perfectly timed, the dark blade glancing harmlessly off his own. The video was mesmerizing, the strikes and counters playing out like a dance. Maverick watched, absorbing every detail, the way his feet shifted, the subtle movements of his wrist, the exact angle needed to redirect the shadow creature's strikes.

  As the video concluded, Maverick felt a sudden warmth spread through his body, like standing in the sun's rays on a cold day. It was invigorating, a surge of energy that made his heart race and his muscles feel alive. He glanced up, noticing a new icon in the corner of his vision. He mentally focused on it, and an image of a sword deflecting an incoming strike appeared, accompanied by a sense of readiness within him—he knew the skill was now his.

  If the time came when Maverick needed to rely on the parry, it would be there, ready for him to use. He took a deep breath, a smile tugging at his lips, feeling the newfound potential in his grasp. As his focus drifted away from the uncommon skill book, it began to disintegrate, the pages crumbling into ash, its power now transferred to him, its purpose fulfilled.

  With a sense of determination, Maverick turned his attention to the rare skill book. Its cover shimmered with a blue hue, an intricate flame-like pattern dancing across its surface. He placed his hand on the book, studying it for a moment and the skill it contained—Flame Dance a powerful offensive spell that would allow him to spin like a flaming cyclone. It was the kind of attack that could cut through multiple enemies, dealing significant damage while keeping foes at bay. A familiar warmth surged through his fingertips, as he selected 'yes' on the prompt.

  The pages glowed, and brief but vivid images projected. Maverick performed a series of powerful slashes, until enough momentum was built causing his body to spin furiously, wreathed in flames. Maverick watched closely, his eyes fixed on the sweeping movement of the blade as it ignited in brilliant flames. The dance of flames was fierce, scorching everything in its path. The demonstration ended quickly, but the impression was clear—Flame Dance was a skill of destruction.

  Maverick felt heat bloom within his chest, spreading outward like wildfire. His muscles tingled, and he felt an urge to unleash the newfound power, as if his body was eager to test the flames. Another icon appeared in his vision, this one showing a sword wreathed in fire, cutting through the air. He focused on it, a sense of intense, raw energy settling within him. The skill was now his, ready to be used when the time called for it.

  The rare skill book, too, began to crumble, its magic expended. Maverick watched as the pages disintegrated into glowing embers, the last of the flame flickering out as it vanished completely.

  Finally, Maverick turned to the epic skill book. Its cover, a deep violet, almost black, with golden runes etched into its surface that seemed to pulse with power. He could feel the weight of its potential, a sense of something immense resting in his hands. Maverick took a steadying breath, and then placed his palm against the book, selecting 'yes.'

  The book opened, and the pages shimmered, casting a dark glow around the room. A projection emerged, showing Maverick standing over a fallen foe. The figure was battered, weakened, struggling to rise. Maverick's vision form raised its sword, a glimmer of dark energy surrounding the blade, and with a swift motion, he delivered a final, decisive blow. The enemy crumbled, and Maverick could see energy transferring into his body—his wounds healing, his exhaustion fading as mana, stamina, and vitality were restored.

  Maverick's body shivered as he absorbed the knowledge. There was something visceral, almost primal, about the Execution Skill. It was a dangerous gambit—powerful, but with a significant risk. If the enemy survived, the intended strike would instead rebound upon him. It was a skill that demanded precision and timing, but the reward for success was immense.

  He felt a surge of both fear and exhilaration as a new icon appeared in his vision—an image of a sword and revolver poised over a weakened opponent. Maverick focused on it, feeling the dark energy coil within him, waiting for the moment it would be unleashed. The epic skill book, its purpose fulfilled, began to decay, the pages turning to dark ash and scattering into nothingness.

  Maverick took a deep breath, his heart pounding, his mind racing with the possibilities of these new abilities. Flame Dance, Execution, and Parry—each one a new weapon in his arsenal, each one a new hope for survival in this uncertain world. He looked around the dimly lit room; the ashes of the books scattered at his feet, and clenched his fist. Finally the last item to deal with, the wooden box.

  “Hey Mav, what are you doing?” Emily’s groggy voice filled the room. “Why are you just standing in the dark like some kinda serial killer?”

  “Oh, you’re awake Em, sorry if I woke you. But I guess since you’re up now you should probably get dressed. Have you see the message from the Oracle yet?”

  “Yeah, but I just swiped it away. I figured you’d just tell me.” Emily finished as she yawned pulling the blanket closer.

  “Yeah I read it that’s why you need to get up Em. Apparently, monsters will be out looking for us soon, so we need to get ready. Use your two skill books as well.”

  “Aye Aye captain…” Emily groaned as she stood and pulled items from her bag of holding.

  While Emily got dressed and used her own skill books, Maverick focused back on the locked wooden box. It was simple at a glance, no carvings or etchings. It resembled more a simple jewelry box as he looked it over. Maverick tried his hand at opening the box, but no dice. The lid was sealed tight.

  **System Notice**

  Wooden Box requires at least one level on the path of Ascension to unlock. Continue to build your strength and build your legend.

  “That’s weird, there had been no mention of ascension in TVO.” Maverick thought to himself as he slipped the wooden box back into his bag.

  Maverick had given Emily a run down of the Oracles message and the situation they would likely be in soon. They both quickly packed up their hideaway, in preparation of the monsters to come. About thirty minutes passed before the attack began. From somewhere down below a thundering crash echoed through the building. Shattering glass soon followed the symphony of noise.

  Maverick pressed his finger to his lips, signaling Emily to be quiet. They moved silently along the upper floor, trying to avoid detection as best as possible. Below them, the sounds intensified—thuds, growls, and scraping noises echoed throughout the athletic center. The sheer volume of the noise made it nearly impossible to pinpoint where the monsters were. The tension was palpable, each sound echoing off the massive glass windows and reverberating in the open space.

  Unexpectedly, there was a rush of movement as the door leading to the stairwell up to the roof vaporized, leaving only a cloud of dust and splinters in its wake. Maverick and Emily exchanged a glance—plans had to change, and fast. Without hesitation, they slid open a window, slipping out onto the emergency fire escape. They began climbing, the cold metal rungs biting into their hands as they made their way upward. Maverick looked out across the land below. The open ground was filled with small, oddly colorful creatures. Their bodies covered in bright colorful fur that glistened under the moonlight. They looked like grotesque, oversized versions of thse Furby toys he’d once seen in an antique store.

  As Maverick watched, one of the larger monsters—a beast adorned with ram-like horns—noticed him. Its eyes locked onto his, and there was a moment of unsettling recognition. The creature let out a deep, guttural shout in its strange language before raising a wooden instrument to its lips and blowing. The sound was deep, resonant, and commanding, echoing through the athletic center like a call to arms.

  The smaller creatures on standby reacted instantly, filing toward the building and beginning to scale the walls, their movements unnervingly agile, like Olympic rock climbers. Maverick's pulse quickened, his grip tightening on the fire escape railing.

  "Want to move a little faster, Em? I think they spotted us," Maverick called, increasing his pace.

  "Sure thing," Emily replied, her voice strained as she pulled herself up another rung. "Let me just grow an extra set of arms. Or better yet, how about wings? We're almost there, hold on a second—and uh, don’t look up."

  Maverick couldn't help but glance upward, catching sight of the swarm above them. Among the climbing creatures, some had bat-like wings, flying high in the sky, their silhouettes darting through the darkness. The rest were already nearing the rooftop, their furry bodies silhouetted against the night sky. A shiver ran down his spine as they finally reached the top, pulling themselves over the edge of the building.

  But there was no respite. The rooftop was already overrun—the creatures had somehow beaten them there, and there were far more than Maverick had anticipated. His eyes darted across the sea of vibrant fur. Each of the creatures fixed their eerie gaze on him and Emily.

  Maverick immediately activated flame infusion. Azure flames erupted along the blade of his rune blade. The blue flames danced, illuminating the rooftop in flickering light. Almost as if a starting pistol had been fired, one of the monsters let out a high-pitched, musical chirp, and the fight began.

  Maverick moved instinctively, his blade slicing through the creatures like they were nothing but sawdust. The flames crackled as they met the monsters, reducing them to heaps of smoldering ash. Beside him, Emily's fists glowed with raw energy, her strikes landing with devastating force. Each punch sent the creatures flying into the darkness or caused them to burst, painting the rooftop with streaks of their dark, viscous blood.

  "Is it just me, or are these guys too easy?" Emily shouted over the chaos, dodging a claw strike before countering with a bone-shattering punch.

  Maverick gritted his teeth, slashing through another wave. "I think that's the problem. We’ve killed dozens, and they just keep coming. It's like trying to snuff out a pissed-off ant nest."

  Emily's breath came in ragged bursts. "So what do we do? I can't keep this up all night. My stamina's already a third down and it won't refill until I—" She was cut off as she blasted away a pair of monsters wielding crude clubs.

  Maverick winced as he parried a strike, his shin throbbing from where one of the larger creatures had managed to land a blow. His shoulder ached from a rock that had been hurled at him earlier. These creatures weren't just climbing—they were adapting, arming themselves with whatever they could find.

  "We have to figure something out, quick!" Maverick shouted. He ducked under a swinging club, the air whistling as it passed by. "Have you noticed anything different about some of them? Back in TVO, I had a quest like this—waves of enemies that wouldn't stop until we killed their leader. Maybe it's the same here."

  Emily glanced around, her eyes darting from one creature to the next. "Nope! All the same stupid fur and stubby bodies!" She planted her foot and launched herself into a spinning kick, sending another group of monsters sprawling.

  Maverick's eyes scanned the swarm, desperately searching for anything that stood out—anything that could give them an edge. His gaze landed on the ram-horned creature, now standing at the edge of the rooftop, watching. Unlike the others, it wasn't attacking. It was observing, orchestrating.

  "The one with the horn!" Maverick shouted, pointing his blade toward it. "I think that's the leader!"

  Emily's eyes locked onto the creature, her expression hardening. "Then let's take it out."

  They fought their way through the swarm, each step a battle against the tide of furred monsters. Maverick's blade cut a path; the flames blazing bright as he moved with purpose. Emily was right behind him, her fists a blur of motion, her determination driving them forward.

  The ram-horned creature watched them approach, its eyes narrowing. It raised its instrument once more, letting out another deep, reverberating note. The smaller creatures redoubled their efforts, clawing and biting, trying to hold Maverick and Emily back. But they pressed on, inching closer, until finally, they practicaly stood before the creature.

  Maverick didn't hesitate. He swung his flaming blade, aiming for the creature's chest. The ram-horned beast tried to dodge, but Emily was faster—her glowing fist struck its side, knocking it off balance. Maverick's blade connected, the flames searing through fur and flesh, and with a final, guttural cry, the creature split in two.

  For a moment, there was silence. The swarm hesitated, their movements faltering, their aggression waning. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the creatures began to retreat, scuttling back down the sides of the building and away into the night.

  Maverick and Emily stood there, panting, their bodies bruised and battered, but victorious. Maverick looked over at Emily, a weary smile tugging at his lips. "Guess you don't need wings after all."

  Emily let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, well, maybe next time we pick a place with fewer windows."

  Maverick nodded, the adrenaline slowly fading from his system. They had survived, but they both knew this was just the beginning. The world was changing, and every victory only brought new challenges. For now, they had each other—and that was enough.