Gabriel walked down the tunnel, its walls lit by flickering torches. The sharp echo of pickaxes striking stone reverberated through the damp air. Occasional explosions rumbled in the distance—mages using spells to dig deeper—while laborers trudged past, hauling heavy sacks of dirt and broken rock.
He sidestepped an improvised cart being shoved down the narrow path and continued forward, following the directions he'd been given.
The place was far more complex than it looked at first glance. Reinforced galleries of wood and metal twisted deep into the earth, a maze beneath the surface.
This was where the core group of the Renegades hid—the people who founded the faction. Their sanctuary now lay tucked away inside a cavern somewhere in the Wild Zone.
But it hadn't always been like this.
In the beginning, they had a base. A proper one.
Back then, they'd tried to convert an old mining facility on the edge of the Safe Zone into a stronghold. That's where the war with Bastion had started. The place had turned into a graveyard for many.
Marshall's son had been one of them—killed by one of Bartholomew's trusted men.
The Renegades abandoned the mine after that first war—not out of weakness, but as a calculated move. Strategy... and vengeance.
Lately, they'd begun a massive excavation project. Gabriel didn't know the details. He didn't need to.
But that was why he'd been summoned here.
"He's down at the end," one of the soldiers grunted, sweat dripping as he hauled a sack stained with something... viscous.
"Am I cleared to head in?" Gabriel asked.
"Yeah. Everything's ready."
Two guards stepped aside from the narrow entrance, revealing a dim corridor ahead.
Gabriel walked through, his footsteps echoing softly in the hollow dark. At the far end... stood a lone figure, staring into the shadows.
Marshall.
"Sir Marshall," Gabriel greeted, his tone sharp, respectful.
Marshall didn't turn.
The man had been military—a career officer. Feared. Respected. Gabriel, in contrast, had been his son's best friend. When Marshall's family agreed to enter the tutorial, they hadn't come alone. They brought everyone.
Wives. Children. Grandchildren. Old comrades. A team forged by time, battle, and brotherhood—now transplanted into a world of monsters, magic, and survival.
The true Renegades weren't just some random group. They were the families of military veterans—the core of the original faction. And many of those veterans had died storming the fortress that would later be known as Bastion.
The man didn't even glance back. "Anything new from Bastion?" Marshall asked, voice steady.
"No, sir. They still think they've got the upper hand since they captured those men."
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Marshall's mouth. One of those smiles that never reach the lips... but light up the eyes.
From the beginning of this rebellion, the real Renegades hadn't lost a single member.
To Marshall, the others—the ones who'd joined later, whether drawn by desperation or the cause—were just pawns. Useful. Expendable. The people here, in this place, by his side... were his family. The ones he'd known for decades—long before the tutorial ever started.
That... was why Bartholomew feared him.
The military background Marshall and his inner circle brought—paired with the classes the system had given them—made them lethal. Not just skilled. Deadly. And Bartholomew knew it.
The man's so-called manhunts were theater. He sent soldiers only to save face—so others wouldn't see the fear behind his eyes.
"You know, Gabriel..." Marshall said, stepping forward into the shadows of the deeper tunnel, "there's something I want to show you."
Gabriel followed without a word, guided by the wavering torchlight, their boots scraping softly against the cold stone floor. The distant hammering, voices, and explosions faded the deeper they went.
"A while back..." Marshall's voice lowered, almost reverent, "I acquired something... special."
Gabriel's brow furrowed. Confusion flickered in his eyes.
"A divine revelation."
"What...?" Gabriel blinked, confused.
"Yeah," Marshall said, pausing for a moment. "A god contacted me."
Gabriel stared at him—and from the man's expression... he realized it wasn't a joke.
Marshall wasn't playing.
He was dead serious.
"He showed me certain truths. The biggest one is... just like us, the creatures in this world were summoned. None of them are native. Every single being here was brought for a purpose."
Gabriel furrowed his brow, listening carefully.
"Some were summoned just to fill space. But others—the intelligent ones, the organized ones—were handpicked. While our mission is to escape... theirs is to stop us. But within certain rules. They're... pieces on the board."
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Marshall stopped at the edge of a massive pit—so deep that the darkness swallowed it completely. He extended an arm to block Gabriel from walking any further.
"The god who spoke to me said these creatures were saved... from dying worlds. Planets on the brink of extinction. Collapsing civilizations. For them, the tutorial was a blessing. A second chance to exist."
"And for us?" Gabriel asked, trying to process it.
"For us... it's a test," Marshall answered, his voice hard. "A show. A bet among gods."
A chill ran down Gabriel's spine.
"Yeah. A bet. Or an investment. Call it whatever you like. Each universe gets one... special tutorial. It's tied to the system itself. The god told me about a concept. A number. 'The sacred number.' Fifty-one."
"Fifty-one?" Gabriel echoed.
"He didn't explain what it meant. But he was clear. That number... it's why this place is so brutal. Why the gods are watching. Why the stakes are so high." Marshall's voice dropped, laced with something heavier—something... personal. "And I still don't know what it truly means."
He stared into the abyss.
"But what matters... is that this god... gave me a chance. Maybe he just wants more entertainment. Maybe he's bored. I don't care. He gave me a solution. A way to get my revenge. A way to win."
Marshall turned, gripping Gabriel's shoulder—firm. Heavy.
"You've spent years near Bastion. Living among them as one of our spies. You've had food. Shelter. Security. All paid for... by our work."
Gabriel swallowed hard.
Marshall's gaze wasn't just a look. It was a general weighing the soul of a soldier. Measuring loyalty.
"So the question is... can I actually count on you?"
"Of course, sir! You always could!" Gabriel answered instantly.
"Perfect," Marshall replied—and shoved him.
Gabriel barely had time to react.
He tumbled down—sliding, rolling over loose rocks—swallowed by the pitch-black pit.
When he finally hit the bottom, coughing, bleeding, scraped all over, he looked up in disbelief.
"S-Sir Marshall!"
A torch dropped in after him, clattering to the ground, its flickering light barely illuminating what looked like a cavern. Wide. Silent. Cold.
"Stay calm, Gabriel," Marshall's voice echoed from above. "This is your special assignment."
Gabriel pushed himself up, wiping blood from his face.
"You're a Thief. And not just any Thief—you've got that class mutation. More speed. More stealth. You're the best one for this."
Marshall pointed down into the darkness.
"Walk forward. You'll find something round. About the size of a basketball. Bring it to me. Toss it up."
Gabriel spun around nervously.
"If you manage it... I'll throw you a rope. But knowing you..." Marshall chuckled. "You won't need it."
Gabriel swallowed. His throat felt dry.
"W-why... why are you doing this? You could've just... asked, sir..."
Marshall's expression stayed cold. Unmoving. Completely unfazed by the pleading.
"When my son and you were ambushed by that masked assassin... you survived, didn't you? You survived—at the cost of my son's life."
"I-It wasn't like that... I—I froze. I was in shock. I only made it out because of my—"
"Speed." Marshall cut him off, voice sharp as a blade. "Good. You'll get the chance to use it again. So shut your mouth. You don't want to wake what's sleeping... do you?"
Gabriel's breathing grew shallow. His hands trembled. Marshall's gaze—ice-cold, predatory—left no room for doubt. The crossbow in his hand made it painfully clear. Retreat wasn't an option.
Reluctantly, Gabriel snatched the torch from the ground and turned toward the suffocating darkness ahead. His footsteps were cautious. Careful. Quiet.
That's when he saw it. Ripped clothes. Scattered fragments of bones. Human bones. His throat locked. Instinct took over—he spun back—
Only to find Marshall standing there, crossbow raised. Aimed dead center.
"You know exactly how good I am with this," Marshall said, flat. "One step back... and you're dead."
"S-Sir Marshall, please—"
"Move. Now. Grab what's in there." His tone didn't budge. "The others we sent... didn't make it. Let's see if you're luckier."
Gabriel sucked in a shaky breath. He activated Night Vision.
And what he saw... nearly made him collapse.
The walls. The ceiling. The floor. All of it was covered in white sacks. Hundreds of them. The same kind he'd seen one of the workers hauling earlier. Some of them... twitched. Something was breathing inside.
"Wh-What... are these...?" he whispered.
"Cocoons," Marshall replied casually. "And in the center... there's a special one. That's the one I want. Be careful. Don't wake anything. Don't worry... I'm covering you."
Gabriel swallowed hard. His legs felt like lead. Step by step, he crept forward. Closer. Closer. His eyes scanned the room. There. A dark mass loomed at the far end. Hulking. Shifting in the shadows.
He activated Silent Steps, a Thief-class skill, and glided low to the ground. Fast, but quiet. Controlled. The torch stayed behind.
Then he saw it. A crimson orb. Smaller than the other cocoons. Basketball-sized. But inside... a silhouette. Something curled. Something alive. Something waiting.
His hand reached out. Sticky. Wet. Clung to the floor like it didn't want to let go. Gabriel pulled. Strained. His fingers slipping over the gelatinous surface—until finally... it came free.
Then... something inside it twitched. And worse— The dark shape in the far corner... moved.
"...Shit."
Gabriel spun. His heart exploded into overdrive. Super Speed—ACTIVATED. He bolted. Sprinting for his life. Cocoon in hand. Adrenaline drowning every thought.
"Faster! THROW IT!" Marshall shouted.
Gabriel hurled the cocoon upward—just as—
'ROOOOOOAAAAAAR.'
The sound shattered the air. Something massive. Furious. Awake.
"AHHH—!" Gabriel's scream tore through the dark as something slammed into him—sharp. Piercing. Dragging him back.
Marshall caught the cocoon mid-air. Smooth. Effortless. His lips curled into a grin... even as Gabriel's screams echoed in the depths.
"HELP ME!!" Gabriel shrieked, voice cracking.
But Marshall... had already turned his back.
Just before he vanished, his Advanced Identify flickered over the colossal shadow moving inside the cavern.
[Ant Queen (General Beast) – Lvl 35]
The roar surged again—deafening—echoing like a storm of rage through the tunnels.
The queen was awake. Thrashing. Hunting.
Marshall didn't waste a second. He ran. Full sprint. All out. No hesitation.
[Daughter of the Ant Queen – Lvl 0]
A new queen. The successor.
Marshall's background in biology left no room for doubt—the entire colony would wake up... and come for this cocoon.
With every step, the furious shrieks of the Queen thundered louder behind him, rattling through the tunnels like an earthquake made of rage.
"Collapse it! NOW!" he barked to the mages further ahead.
It wouldn't stop them. Nothing would. The swarm would tear through whatever stood in their way.
But Marshall...
All he needed was time.
Time... to set his plan in motion.
He clutched the cocoon against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from it—alive. Pulsing.
"I'll take this thing with me... and the Queen and her army..." His eyes locked on the darkness ahead. "They'll follow."
His grip tightened. Jaw clenched.
And with a voice like a death sentence whispered to the void—
"The Safe Zone... is going to fall."
If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.