The days passed. Then weeks. Then months.
The survivors struggled mentally and emotionally. Even their leader, Gustav, found nothing when he searched his soul for answers or purpose. They never returned to the Sub-Space, not even once. They couldn't afford to. They were too busy surviving, trying to reach the next day without collapsing under the weight of their failure.
They were alive, but it felt like they were already dead inside. Well, they'd been dead for a while. It was just temporarily halted when Benny gave them something to hope for. Now that he was gone, the death of the soul returned with a vengeance.
Rippler became even more aggressive than before, channeling his frustration into violence. He teamed up with Kael, and together they would venture into the labyrinth at every opportunity to slaughter the monsters that dwelled there. It was brutal, savage, and excessive. But it brought some comfort, some release for emotions that had nowhere else to go.
Resources came second. Killing came first.
Later, Gustav joined them, trying to release his own pent-up emotions through violence. Soon enough, eleven grim reapers roamed the second through fifth floors, slaughtering everything in their path. They had no plan. No strategy. They just killed to their hearts' content, painting the labyrinth with monster blood.
It was a reality they could live with. At least for now.
---
When they eventually returned to the second floor sanctuary, those they'd left behind were surprisingly still there. The six who'd been too broken to join the invasion had somehow managed to pull through whatever they were struggling with. They'd survived the weeks alone, subsisting on scraps and avoiding danger.
But they didn't talk to the ones who'd returned. They couldn't. Something was wrong. Something bad had happened wherever the group had gone. The air around them was different, darker, more dangerous.
They only realized later that there was a missing person. Then they understood. Another one of them had been claimed by this accursed labyrinth. Pitiful, truly pitiful.
But now, even those who'd remained behind found it in themselves to join the others. There was madness in all of them now. Especially the bloodthirsty ones like Rippler and Kael. They talked and reveled in each of their kills. How fun it was. How satisfying to release your emotions on creatures that couldn't fight back effectively.
They were broken. They were the grim reapers of the labyrinth. Like vengeful spirits trying to reclaim what belonged to them. They were possessed by madness and somehow by the spirits of the dead who dwelled in this place.
Seventeen people now. Seventeen lost souls slaughtering their way through the darkness.
---
Elsewhere in the cosmos, far beyond the comprehension of mortal minds, a grand meeting was being held.
The gods watched their chosen champions. Humans, demi-humans, humanoids, even monsters and beasts that roamed the vast world of Centuury. Those who excelled in things the gods favored: despair, combat, power, strength, every single aspect the divine could conceive. They watched with interest, amusement, and occasionally disappointment.
They couldn't participate directly in the mortal realm. That was forbidden by an ancient contract that was binding to all of them. Hence why there was a System they'd created, the World System that managed everything below. They had administrators and managers working for them, third-party entities who oversaw the mechanics and ensured the rules were followed.
There were many world systems across different planets. Aerthe, Centuury are just a few, as there are still dozens of others scattered across multi realities. Each had administrators, usually one per inhabited planet, and several managers beneath them.
Right now, at this grand meeting, Centuury'sWorld System Administrator Magnus had been summoned alongside a manager named Arian. They stood before a council of divine beings whose true forms couldn't be perceived by mortal eyes.
One god in particular was furious. The deity who'd favored Benny as a prospect, a potential champion, was enraged that his chosen had died. It was absurd. The man hadn't even managed to fully comprehend the gifts he'd been given through the World System Awakening. He'd barely scratched the surface of his potential before being snuffed out like a candle.
The god demanded answers. He berated the two of them, his divine voice shaking the very foundations of this cosmic space.
Admin Magnus remained professional throughout the tirade. His head was bowed, one knee bent in deference, one arm on his back and the other across his chest in the traditional posture of service. He waited patiently for the god to exhaust his rage.
After what felt like hours, the berating stopped. The divine fury subsided into simmering frustration.
Now Admin Magnus raised his head, ready to answer the question his superior had been asking.
"Your benevolent grace, if I may," Magnus began carefully. "The prospect Benny McTown isn't dead yet. At least not completely. His soul still lingers in the mortal realm. The power within him is keeping him barely alive, suspended between life and death."
He paused, gauging the god's reaction before continuing. "We should give it some time. As you can see, this weak human has considerable tenacity. He is, if you'll pardon the crude comparison, like a cockroach that simply refuses to die. For now, we should watch and wait to see what he does with the life still flickering inside him."
The god's anger calmed somewhat. Hope replaced fury. For the god there was something amusing and exciting about watching a weak creature, like a human being who gained strength against impossible odds. It was entertainment on a scale only the divine could appreciate.
As a god, he didn't know weakness personally. He'd never experienced vulnerability, mortality, or the desperate struggle to survive. So he couldn't relate to it. But he could watch it. And watching was often enough.
He thought for a long moment, then made sure his message to this administrator was perfectly clear. "Ensure that my prospect lives. Do whatever is necessary within the bounds of the System's rules. Benny McTown is the second prospect of this world that runs with the System. Not like that cheat of a prospect on another continent."
The god's expression soured at the mention of the other prospect. "That personal system is a massive aberration that runs alongside the World System. It benefits from our infrastructure without contributing anything back. It's parasitic."
He leaned forward, his presence intensifying. "What about that other prospect, the first one? August Finn. Is there some way we could implement that cheat system into the World System? Incorporate its advantages without the drawbacks?"
Admin Magnus allowed himself a small smile. Their other favored prospect, August Finn, was doing exceptionally well. Excelling at rates that even gave Magnus headaches trying to keep up with the data.
"We are still using him as a test bed," Magnus explained. "The concept is rather unique. We're learning from how the personal system operates, but it will take considerable time before we can integrate those lessons. Until his natural lifespan runs out, we can only observe and take notes."
He continued, choosing his words carefully. "The system is rough and unpolished. If we rush its implementation, it could work against us. It might break the current established stable World System, causing cascading failures across multiple worlds, we Administrators have already agreed on this. There's also a massive encryption protecting the personal system's core functions. The previous soul, designated 777-777, made sure it couldn't be replicated or stolen. Not until his reincarnated soul would be able to fully enjoy its benefits. So for now, we can only watch and see."
The god considered this, then asked about the prospect's lifespan. How long would they need to wait before they could study the system properly after the host's death?
"Well, your grace, it may take a few human centuries. But from your perspective, that time will pass quickly."
The god nodded, satisfied with that answer. He turned to address one of Admin Magnus colleagues, about the deity responsible for this entire situation. "What is that bastard doing these days? The one who created this mess?"
Manager Arian spoke up this time, his tone carefully neutral. "Ah, well... God [REDACTED] is just as eccentric as usual. Creating anomalies and watching what happens. You know how he is."
That ended their conversation. There was no point discussing the unpredictable deity further.
Admin Magnus and Manager Arian bowed deeply, then departed from the divine space. They returned to headquarters, to the administrative realm where the machinery of reality was monitored and maintained.
---
Back in the world below, in the deepest dungeons of the rat kingdom's Sub-Space, something stirred.
A body lay in the darkness, abandoned by the living, left to rot among the corpses and filth. The rat men had thrown it into the refuse pits along with their other dead, not bothering to confirm what it was or where it came from. Just another piece of meat to be consumed by the labyrinth's scavengers. As that pit was a space that was connected to the labyrinth itself, they had turned it into a space to dump their waste.
But this body was different.
Its pale complexion, the gray of death, began to shift. Color returned slowly, like ink spreading through water. Blood, which had pooled and stagnated, began to flow again. The heart, which had stopped, stuttered once. Twice. Then beat with irregular rhythm.
And deeper within, something else awakened. The mana heart, that mystical organ formed by those who'd begun to touch true power, pulsed with energy. It sent mana and blood throughout the body, repairing damage, forcing life back into dead cells.
Whatever was happening, it was something from within. Some power that refused to let go, some will that wouldn't accept death.
A system notification appeared in the void, visible only to those with the authority to see such things:
[World System: Activation of "The Will of the Weak" - Revival of Labyrinth Player Prospect]
[Prospect: Benny McTown]
[Status: Critical - Reviving]
[Time to Full Consciousness: Unknown]
[Unique Skill Activation: Confirmed]
[Warning: Irregular patterns detected in revival process]
[Monitoring: Active]
In the cosmic headquarters, Admin Magnus observed the readings with interest. Manager Arian leaned over his shoulder, reading the same data.
"Well," Magnus said quietly. "It seems our cockroach is living up to expectations."
"Should we inform the god [REDACTED]?" Arian asked.
"Not yet. Let's see if the revival completes successfully first. No point getting his hopes up if the prospect dies again in the next five minutes."
They watched the data streams, monitoring the impossible resurrection happening in the depths of a monster-infested dungeon.
Back in the labyrinth, in the darkness and filth, Benny's body continued its slow return to life. His consciousness remained absent, his mind still lost in whatever void souls travel to when the body dies.
But his body remembered. His will remembered. And something deeper than thought or consciousness refused to accept the end.
The Labyrinth's Reaper was not done yet.
Not by a long shot.