The scorching sun beat down mercilessly upon the cracked earth, where not a single blade of grass dared to grow. Exhaustion, hunger, and thirst began to gnaw at the players
one by one.
A newcomer asked anxiously, "How much farther do we have to go? Where exactly are we headed?"
"Should we go ask someone up ahead?"
But as the players approached the NPCs, they were met with blatant hostility and wariness. Erik even saw a few NPCs draw knives and other weapons in warning.
With no information to glean, all they could do was follow silently.
An hour into the instance, something finally broke the oppressive monotony of the wasteland.
The earth trembled violently, and dust and grit burst from the ground ahead—as if something enormous was about to emerge. Erik's breath caught; instinctively, she turned to
observe the NPCs.
Though alarmed, the NPCs did not panic. With swift precision, they dropped flat to the ground and remained utterly still.
Lie flat?
Erik immediately followed suit.
"Get down!" she whispered urgently, dragging a nearby newcomer to the ground.
But the new player couldn't resist peeking. Erik noticed that the NPCs had pressed themselves to the ground like sheets of paper—their foreheads touching dirt, arms straight
at their sides, legs together. She imitated them exactly, unaware the newcomer had raised his head in curiosity.
Sure enough, a monstrous creature emerged from the earth not far away. Its skin was gray-brown and plated like armor, its six legs lending it an imposing presence that stirred
terror in the soul.
It stomped heavily, making the ground shudder, and from beneath came a sinister rustling sound.
Erik lay frozen, recognizing the sound all too well. It was reminiscent of the last instance—the hiss of a plague of serpents. The memory chilled her.
Could it be snakes again?
The giant beast continued to pound the ground, bellowing in fury. Meanwhile, the underground movement grew louder—closer.
Erik scarcely dared to breathe.
Beneath the soil, serpentine forms stirred, roused by the commotion. In their perception, several anomalies pulsed above—prey.
Up above, the new players, too curious for their own good, still hadn't sensed the looming peril. They stared around in wonder at this unfamiliar, eerie world.
Then came the strike—roots, or something like them, shot up from the earth and pierced their bodies.
"Aaahhh!"
Several screams rang out at once.
The newcomer beside Erik shrieked as well. Her eardrums felt as though they might burst. Cold sweat dripped from her brow, stinging her eyes even as she shut them tight.
The cries of agony lasted only seconds.
A long moment passed before the towering creature let out a final roar and retreated into the earth. The ground rumbled, then fell still.
The veteran players, wary to the end, didn't budge. The surviving newcomers were too shaken to move a muscle.
Only when the NPCs began to rise and speak did the players dare lift their heads.
Erik sat up, rubbing her stiff neck. The new player beside her was gone, reduced to nothing but a pile of clothes spread flat on the ground—not even bones remained.
"Aaahhh!" Another newcomer screamed at the sight.
"Shut up! You'll attract more of them!" a seasoned player snapped.
After a headcount, they found that eleven players had vanished—all of them newcomers.
"We told you to lie down, to follow the NPCs' lead! Why wouldn't you listen? This isn't some harmless child's game—it's a place where you *die*!"
At last, the new players realized just how deadly this endless escape instance truly was.
The NPCs resumed their march, and the players hurried to follow.
Under the blistering sun, without food or water, the weaker players began to falter. After three hours, one collapsed unconscious.
Then another. And another. Three newcomers in quick succession crumpled to the ground.
"What do we do?!"
"Those with energy, help carry them," said the veteran Edward, glancing around at his peers.
Erik nodded. Her rationality prevailed—this instance was strange. The NPCs, it seemed, served as a mirror to the players. Since the NPCs moved in a united group, it was
wisest for the players to do the same. This was why, despite having access to a supermarket and plenty of provisions, she never once strayed from the group for convenience.
"Come on, let's move."
Erik and Edward lifted one of the fallen players between them. The others were helped by fellow survivors.
Naturally, their pace slowed. Erik licked her cracked lips and glanced up. Though the sun had begun to dip westward, its heat remained punishing.
The NPCs continued in silence. The players, too, kept their voices low.
Then came a new sound—a distant shrieking. A vast black cloud surged toward them. The NPCs sprang into action, digging pits with whatever tools they had. Those without tools
scraped at the ground with bare hands, heedless of the pain.
The players hastened to imitate them.
Erik, better prepared, had brought a metal rod she claimed to have "found" while scouting earlier. Other veterans had gathered sharp stones and stiff branches after entering
the instance—makeshift weapons, if nothing else.
As the black cloud loomed closer, the group scrambled in desperation. Erik's metal rod proved effective; she quickly dug two pits, even making one for an unconscious player.
She finished just as the NPCs did.
She looked up to see some NPCs burying their heads into the earth, using their hands to pile dirt over them—only their bodies remained exposed. She followed their lead at
once.
After shielding the unconscious player's head with a light layer of soil—afraid to suffocate him—she buried her own.
The shrieking closed in above.
"Ahh!" came a cry from the NPC side.
Erik's heart skipped. Then came a gust of wind—something vast and swift flew overhead, its wings slicing the air.
"Help! Somebody help!"
A player had been seized!
The chaos lasted mere seconds. The flutter of wings and the screams faded into the distance. Erik surfaced from the pit just in time to glimpse the trailing edge of that black
cloud.
What *was* that thing?
A single feather, large and black, drifted from the sky. Erik caught it. Heavy and thick, it spanned longer than her arm—whatever creature had shed it must have been
enormous.
She counted heads—nine more players gone.
Half their number had been lost.
Most were newcomers. With no experience, their chances of survival were bleak.
Only six new players remained, all pale with despair.
From the NPC group came the sound of quiet sobbing, but they did not linger. Without pause, they resumed their march across the desolate land, as if the light of salvation lay
ahead. Erik harbored a thought—perhaps the NPCs' destination was the place where the escape portal would appear.
At last, night fell, bringing with it an unforgiving chill.
"So hot you want to die in the day, so cold you want to die at night," Edward muttered, tugging his collar as he curled into himself.
There was no firelight, and the moon gave only the faintest illumination. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Erik could just make out the blurred outlines of her
companions. She moved closer to the NPCs to better observe their movements, positioning herself on the edge of the player group.
Edward followed suit. The newcomer they'd helped earlier stayed close.
His name was George. With a sheepish smile, he said, "My name's kind of old-fashioned. I was sick a lot as a kid, so my parents changed it for good luck. Guess it worked—I
died and still made it into this game. Not bad, huh?"
Now George huddled closer to Edward, shivering violently.
"If only we could make a fire... It's freezing." His teeth chattered with every word.
"The NPCs haven't made a fire," Edward noted grimly. "That means we shouldn't either. Their losses have been small—hopefully we can follow them to the portal."
"If we find the portal, does that mean we win? We survive?"
"Yes. The portal is our salvation. Reaching it is the key to survival."
With visibility low, Erik relied on her hearing to monitor the NPCs. They were murmuring softly to one another for warmth, but she could barely make out what they said. She
pulled a heat patch tighter against her stomach and rubbed her hands together vigorously.
She didn't dare fall asleep—what if something attacked, or the NPCs left them behind?
Though the NPCs didn't actively shun them, they certainly didn't welcome their presence either.
In this unfamiliar land, staying close to the NPCs was the only way to improve their odds. Erik knew that well.
"Hey, miss, aren't you cold? Come join us," Edward called out.
His tone was sincere, without ulterior motive—simply an invitation to share warmth in the name of survival.
"I'll keep watch on the NPCs," Erik declined.
The night deepened, and the cold grew more merciless.
Some players succumbed to fatigue, slipping into half-conscious states.
The veterans remained upright, waiting until the brink of death before using healing items.
To stay awake, they spoke in low tones about how the instance's entry point had changed. The topic stirred bitterness and muffled curses.
But even talk couldn't keep out the cold. The wind howled louder, stinging their cheeks like blades.
Soon, no one spoke. They huddled in silence, preserving what strength remained.
Erik, with her supermarket cheat, had secretly stuck more heat patches to her body and quietly sipped from a bottle of sweetened milk tea—its cloying taste now a blessing of
energy. Curled into herself, she drank slowly through a straw, careful not to let the scent escape.
She had to guard herself—not just from the players, but the NPCs as well. She'd already seen them lacking supplies. That emaciated dog they'd had earlier? It had been eaten
by several NPCs.
Raw.