Apocalypse Tutorial System

Chapter 7 : The Sanity Trial

The glowing red light from outside painted the kitchen in the colors of a looming apocalypse, highlighting the viscous black ichor dripping from Rendi’s chin onto his ruined hoodie. He looked like a nightmare, and the three people staring at him looked like they were ready to file a collective restraining order.

“Ayo, Rendi, deadass... put the knife down, bruh,” Adit stammered, his gimbal shaking slightly as he kept the camera centered. “This isn’t the vibe. The chat is literally calling for an intervention. You’re moving too fast for the algorithm, man.”

“Put it down? Adit, I just soloed a Phase-Spider!” Rendi’s voice was high-strung, frantic. “I’m on that grind! My stats are peaking but you’re bringing a whole-ass psychiatrist into the boss room? That’s high-key a betrayal, fam!”

“Mr. Rendi, look at me,” Dr. Aris said, his voice a calculated, soothing monotone. “I am not here to fight spiders. I am here to discuss the ‘server lag’ you mentioned. Can you tell me what year it is?”

[ SYSTEM RECALL QUIZ INITIATED. ANSWER DR. ARIS WHILE MAINTAINING NEURAL SYNCHRONIZATION. ]

[ RECALL TARGET: SERIAL CODE X-99-GAMMA. DO NOT FAIL THE RECITATION. ]

“Ayo, shut up!” Rendi barked at the blue window near his nose.

“I haven’t said anything yet, Rendi,” the doctor replied, taking a cautious step forward. “Who are you talking to?”

“The UI! The literal prompt!” Rendi gestured with the knife, then realized he was still holding it and threw it onto the counter with a metallic clang. “Look, I know this looks mid. I know I look like I’m in the middle of a major tweak, but check the fridge! The metal is dented! Hallucinations don’t have knock-back, Doctor!”

“Adit said you were shouting about NPCs and experience quotas,” Dr. Aris said, adjusting his glasses. “Rendi, focus on the logic. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three, on god,” Rendi snapped.

[ RECALL TASK: RECITE THE FIRST SIX DIGITS OF PHI. ]

“Look, Doctor, I’m finna be straight with you,” Rendi said, his eyes twitching as the floating text grew larger. “It’s 1.61803! No, wait—that’s the stats! I mean, I’m fine! I’m unironically thriving!”

“Rendi, you’re reciting irrational constants,” Dr. Aris sighed, his hand moving slowly toward his briefcase. “Adit, please keep back. Sari, maybe stay in the other room.”

“I’m staying right here!” Sari yelled from the corner, her face pale. “Rendi just saved me from... from whatever that oil stain was! You guys look like you’re ready to bag him like a stray cat!”

“Mbak Sari, thank you! Someone has some actual situational awareness!” Rendi wiped a smear of black sludge from his forehead. “Adit, turn that camera off. You’re literally farming my trauma for views. That’s zero stars behavior.”

“I’m documenting the fall of a legend, bruh!” Adit countered, though his bottom lip was trembling. “You were supposed to be the breakout star! Now I’ve got a specialist in the apartment! Do you know what this does to my channel’s brand safety?”

“Brand safety? My literal heart is about to quit the match!” Rendi lunged forward, grabbing Adit by his collar. “The world is turning red, the spiders are spawning in the kitchens, and you’re worried about your ad revenue? Big yikes, Adit! Massive L!”

“He’s getting aggressive!” Dr. Aris stated calmly, reaching into his case. “Rendi, I’m going to need you to sit down. We can talk about the rewards and the level-ups once we get you to a safe, quiet facility.”

“Facility? Like a psych ward? Hell nah!” Rendi backed toward the open kitchen window. “I’m not getting locked in a cell while the game is updating to 0.9! I’ll lose my leaderboard spot! I’m basically the only player with a high Agility build in this sector!”

“We have very nice, soft rooms, Rendi,” the doctor continued, his tone dangerously patient. “No blue windows. No invisible monsters.”

“That sounds mid as hell! Boring!” Rendi pointed outside. “Look at the sky! You’re telling me that bioluminescent glow is a chemical imbalance in my brain? That’s some next-level gaslighting!”

“I don’t see a red sky, Rendi,” Adit whispered, looking out the window. “I see... streetlights. And maybe a bit of fog? You’re seeing things that haven't been rendered yet, my guy.”

[ WARNING: PSYCHOLOGICAL SUPPRESSION IN PROGRESS. NEURAL LOAD AT 95%. ESCAPE IS THE ONLY PATH TO CALIBRATION. ]

“See? The System agrees!” Rendi shouted, startling Dr. Aris. “Adit, tell him I’m not crazy! Tell him about the bin! You saw the yoga mats!”

“I saw yoga mats because I have a healthy brain, Rendi!” Adit shouted back. “You were looking at barrels of cow blood! Do you know how sus that is? You’re lucky I didn’t call the cleaners before I called the doc!”

“The blood was for the hatching!” Rendi’s voice cracked. “Ayo, this conversation is going nowhere. We are literally circular-reasoning our way into a padded room.”

“Just take the deep breaths,” Dr. Aris said, producing a small syringe from his kit. “It’s just a stabilizer. A ‘power-up’, if you will.”

“Power-up? Don’t try to use my lore against me, that’s cringe!” Rendi’s heart hammered a syncopated beat against his ribs. “If that needle touches my skin, I’m reporting you for griefing!”

“Stay still, Rendi,” Sari pleaded, her hands over her mouth. “Maybe the medication will help? You haven't slept in forever.”

“I’ve got that main-character-don’t-sleep buff, Mbak!” Rendi stepped onto the kitchen counter, his balance perfect despite the uneven surface. “If you guys won’t listen to the patch notes, I’m leaving this party. You guys are literal bots.”

“Get him!” Adit yelled, though he didn't move an inch.

Dr. Aris lunged, but Rendi was already moving. To the others, he looked like a blur—a glitch in the footage of their own lives. He didn't just hop out of the window; he coiled his legs and sprang with the force of a hydraulic piston.

“Wait, he’s actually jumping!” Sari screamed.

“We’re on the second floor! Stop him!” Adit lunged forward, but his hand only caught empty air.

Rendi didn't plummet. His hand caught the brick ledge above the window with a wet smack. His muscles, remodeled by the System’s blue serum, hummed with a terrifying efficiency. He looked back into the room, dangling effortlessly thirty feet above the concrete alley.

“Ayo, catch you guys at the respawn!” Rendi yelled, his face silhouetted against the crimson horizon. “Adit, if you delete our Minecraft server, it’s strictly on sight! You hear me? Strictly on sight!”

“Rendi! Get back in here!” Dr. Aris shouted, leaning out the window with his mouth agape. “This is physically impossible! You don’t have the upper-body density!”

“Maybe check your math, Doc! I’m cracked!” Rendi threw his weight upward, his boots finding purchase on the vertical brickwork as if he were walking on flat ground. “I’m on that wall-running grind! Skill issues, everyone! Literal skill issues!”

He scrambled higher, his silhouette disappearing over the edge of the roofline in seconds.

Inside the kitchen, the silence was heavy. Adit lowered his camera, his hands shaking.

“Did... did he just run up the wall?” Adit asked, his voice barely a breath. “Like, vertically? Like a spider?”

“I have never seen a dissociative state grant spider-like mobility,” Dr. Aris muttered, staring at the empty space outside. “This is... non-standard behavior.”

“He’s gonna die out there,” Sari whispered, leaning against the counter. “Or he’s really the only one who knows how to play the game.”

Up on the gravel roof, Rendi collapsed onto his knees. The adrenaline was slowly being replaced by the Focus Penalty, making his limbs feel like lead-filled socks. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air that tasted like ozone and burnt hair.

“Ayo, System... that was peak fiction,” Rendi wheezed, looking at his palms. They were scraped and bleeding, but the black sludge was starting to flake away. “I really just abandoned my social life for a rooftop sprint. My reputation is literally six feet under now. Total cooked status.”

[ NINETY-DAY TUTORIAL: DAY 1 COMPLETE. ]

[ GLOBAL UPDATES SYNCED. LOOK UP. ]

“Look up? Again? Fam, I’ve been looking up all night,” Rendi complained, turning his head toward the night sky.

He froze. The sky wasn't just red anymore.

Across the horizon, massive, swirling eddies of neon purple gas were beginning to descend from the atmosphere. They weren't clouds. They had structure—long, wispy tendrils that pulsed with a slow, heartbeat-like rhythm.

“Yo, tell me those aren't toxic,” Rendi whispered, his eyes wide. “System? Are those poison clouds or like... loot drops?”

[ ATMOSPHERIC CALIBRATION: INORGANIC SEEDED RAIN STARTING IN 05:00. ]

[ WARNING: ALL UNPROTECTED BIOLOGICAL LIFE WILL UNDERGO IMMEDIATE RE-INITIALIZATION. ]

“Re-initialization? That’s a fancy word for ‘you’re gonna turn into a zombie’, isn’t it?” Rendi stood up, his gaze fixed on the toxic violet storm heading his way. “Ayo, the devs are actually griefing us now. No cap.”

The sound of sirens began to rise from the city below—hundreds of them, all wailing in a chaotic symphony of panic.

“It’s really starting, isn't it?” Rendi said to the air. “The server is officially going down for maintenance, and none of us have the password.”

[ HURRY. FIND SHELTER. OR BECOME DATA. ]