...No skill.
That's not important to me, anyway. The fact that I'm leaving the floor is what matters to me.
And leaving that...thing behind.
As I climb higher, the air changes. The heat of the desert floor is replaced by a cool, damp air. The scent of ozone and rain fills my nostrils. The sound of the humming lights fades, replaced by the low, rumbling growl of thunder.
The blue system prompt appears in front of my face once I cross some invisible threshold.
FLOOR: 4
LEVEL: 4
EXP: 400/800
GOAL: REACH FLOOR 100
REWARD: ONE WISH.
The words are the same, but the world around them is completely different.
I step off the staircase onto a dark, rain-slicked street. The sky above is a swirling mass of purple and black clouds, lit from within by flashes of lightning. The rain is a constant, cold drizzle, soaking my hair, my clothes, plastering them to my skin.
The buildings on either side of the street are tall and faceless, monoliths of wet, dark concrete that loom over me, their windows empty, dark eyes. The streetlights are on, but they're dim and flickering, casting long, distorted shadows that dance in the rain.
It's a city at night, but it's a dead city. There are no cars. No people. No signs of life. Just the rain, the thunder, and the oppressive, silent weight of the buildings.
I look down at myself. My white sweater is stained with dirt and blood, my green skirt is torn and muddy. My feet are bare and numb from the cold. The pruning shears are still in my hand, a comforting, solid weight. The pry bar is tucked into my waistband.
It couldn't be any more different than the prior floor, but I don't believe for a moment that it's actually outside. Still, cold though it may be, it's a relief from the oppressive heat and light of the prior floor, and better by far than the humming yellow corridors.
I don't know if or what dangers may be here, but a floor where it's night might be an opportunity to sleep. I'd rather do that than go stumbling through the streets with no rest for a day and a half, if it can be managed.
I start walking, my footsteps splashing in the shallow puddles on the pavement. I have no destination. I just need to move. To find the next staircase. The next puzzle. The next monster.
I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks.
In the middle of the street, about fifty feet away, stands a figure.
It's a man.
He's tall, his frame lean and powerful, his silhouette sharp against the flickering streetlights. His long, dark hair is plastered to his head by the rain, and his clothes—black jeans, a dark shirt—are soaked through. He's just standing there, his back to me, his head tilted slightly up, as if he's watching the storm.
Something about him is familiar. The way he stands. The set of his shoulders.
He turns, slowly, as if he's sensed me watching him.
The lightning flashes, illuminating his face for a split second.
A man with green eyes stands there.
He's familiar and yet strange at the same time - definitely not anyone I've known, yet there's a familiarity I can't quite place.
He's not aggressive, not immediately, at least.
That's not a surprise, though. Even David wasn't overtly aggressive. So far, humans haven't been as dangerous as the other things here.
I stay where I am, my hand tightening on the shears. The rain continues to fall, a cold, steady curtain between us.
He doesn't move. He just looks at me, his expression unreadable. His eyes are a bright, unnatural green, glowing faintly in the gloom.
I take a step back.
He mirrors the movement, taking a step forward. It's not a threat. It's a...mimicry.
"Who are you?" I ask, my voice barely audible over the rain.
He doesn't answer. He just tilts his head, his green eyes studying me, analyzing me.
Then, he smiles.
It's not a nice smile. It's not a bad one, either.
It's just. Empty.
A reflexive, polite smile with no meaning behind it, but more extreme than I've ever seen. It feels strange.
Inhuman.
Perhaps he's someone like the nurse? Another person who has lost who they are, and is only a shadow of their former self?
So far, he's done nothing without me doing it first. He reacted to me backing away. He smiled as a response to my words.
But that doesn't mean he won't attack eventually. I can't let my guard down. I'd rather not get into another fight or chase either, though. Not when I'm so tired. I'm not sure I can keep up that pace without sleep.
I need to figure out a different way through this situation.
"...Does the rain ever stop here?" I ask him. The question might be stupid, but I'm not sure what else to say.
His smile changes. It's still not a real smile, but it's less 'polite' and more like an amused one. He holds up a hand, pointing towards the sky.
Lightning flashes again.
His eyes track the bolt as it crosses the sky.
The rumble of thunder is louder this time, a deep, bone-rattling growl.
"It's refreshing." He says, and his voice is...normal. It's not raspy, it's not creaky, it's just the voice of a man.
After last floor, a normal human speaking in a calm manner seems strange. But it's a welcome surprise. I wasn't expecting him to speak at all.
"You like the rain?" I ask.
"It washes things clean." He says, his eyes falling back to me. "I can't remember what I was washing away, though. But I know it needed to be done."
He's not like the nurse. He can speak, he remembers...something. It's just vague and strange, and it seems to be missing a lot of the details.
"I'm trying to leave." I tell him, and glance around the area. "Do you know where the exit to this floor is?" Even if I'm a bit wary of him, he might know something, or be able to help me. It's worth trying.
He looks past me, his eyes moving across the skyline, and he nods. "There are several doors."
"Where?"
He points again, his arm outstretched towards me. His finger is pointing directly at me. I'm not a door. And I'm fairly certain I'm not blocking any, either.
"...That's just me." I say, frowning.
He looks from his hand to my face and back again, and then he shrugs and lowers his hand. "They move. I can't tell where." He says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
Well, that doesn't help.