The simulator hummed to life, a low, vibrating pulse that ran through the floor and into my bones. The walls shimmered, folding and stretching into the shape of a dungeon I had never seen before—dark corridors, jagged stone, metallic glints reflecting faint torchlight that didn't exist. I stepped forward, muscles tense, senses on high alert.
"This is your controlled environment," Notice said, voice calm, almost soothing. "Every skill you have must work together. Every decision matters."
I inhaled sharply, tasting the faint metallic tang in the air. My pulse thumped like a drum in my chest, adrenaline already creeping up my spine. My hands itched with power; Best Welder hummed faintly beneath my skin, rhythm pulsed in time with my heartbeat, Enhanced Perception tingled at the edges of my awareness.
The first wave came—a pair of shadowy figures, quick and erratic, moving with a speed that made my head spin. I welded a shard of stone into a jagged shield, sparks hissing as it formed, and dodged, letting rhythm guide my timing. The air cracked with the sound of metal striking shadow, heat stinging my arms, pulse racing.
Each successive wave grew harder. More enemies, faster, more unpredictable. I felt fear twist in my stomach, sharp and biting, but I pressed on. Each dodge, each strike, each weld became a rhythm, a dance between power and precision. Pain and adrenaline blended into focus, burning in my chest and limbs.
A simulated trap triggered beneath me—spikes erupted from the floor. My body moved before thought, leaping, twisting, landing just beyond the danger. Sweat streamed into my eyes, burning, but I barely noticed. My mind was entirely present, every sense alive, every skill humming in perfect sync.
Notice's voice cut through the tension, calm and unwavering. "Evaluate. Adapt. Overcome."
I did. I experimented mid-combat, combining welding and rhythm to redirect enemy attacks, using Enhanced Perception to anticipate movement before it happened. Sparks flew, shadows hissed, heat burned, pulse thundered. I was exhausted, but exhilarated. Every strike, every dodge, every successful maneuver was proof that I was learning, growing stronger.
Finally, the last shadow dissolved into mist, leaving only silence. I sank to my knees, chest heaving, muscles trembling, sweat soaking through my clothes. Pain, exhaustion, fear—they were all there. But beneath it, pride pulsed, steady and fierce. I had survived, adapted, and learned.
I breathed in deeply, feeling the metallic tang fade as the simulator powered down, leaving only the faint hum of energy beneath my skin. I was Mizu—broken once, yes—but now, mastering the flow of skills, the rhythm of combat, and the weight of responsibility.
When the real dungeon awaited, I would be ready. Not just to survive—but to conquer.