Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

Crossing the parking lot, the group moved in wary silence.

Xander hadn't fully processed the unnatural quiet until now. No hum of distant traffic, no low electrical buzz from signs, no background noise at all. Even when he was out camping, it was never this quiet. Just the crunch of boots on asphalt, the occasional scuff of gravel, and the whisper of wind through the abandoned vehicles. It wasn't just silence. It was absence. The emptiness that made his skin crawl.

Ahead of him, Charlie walked with the swagger of someone who assumed authority belonged to the loudest man in the room. He wasn't in charge. No one had put him in charge. But he acted like leadership was something you took, not something you earned.

The auto shop loomed over them, its six massive bay doors locked tight, the attached two-story office dark and silent. Storage containers lined along the side, some with their doors left slightly ajar. The lot was littered with cars and trucks, their windshields dull with dust, their owners nowhere to be seen. Some had been abandoned mid-exit, doors hanging open like their drivers had fled in a panic.

Then there was the Humvee.

It sat toward the back of the lot, a matte black block of quiet menace, parked deliberately out of the way but positioned for a fast exit. Xander slowed, scanning it. Someone positioned it for a quick getaway in case of trouble. Not military-issue. At least, not in the way that mattered. Probably surplus, sold off to the guy who spent his weekends stockpiling MREs and ammo while the world called him paranoid. Xander never judged such people, as others had leveled the same accusation against him. Preparedness made sense. And right now, that Humvee might hold the exact kind of supplies they needed.

He made a note of it but didn't slow. They'd investigate it once they were done with the auto shop if someone else didn't get to it first.

Charlie had already reached the main entrance and was yanking at the door handle with an exaggerated huff when it didn't give. He scowled, giving it another useless tug.

"Figures. Bet they locked up early, probably left work the second their boss wasn't looking. Typical slackers."

Xander exhaled through his nose. "Or they locked up because everything went to shit."

"Whatever." Charlie replied. "We're going in."

Alex had been lingering near the edge of the group, quiet, eyes scanning the building the same way Xander had studied the Humvee. Not just looking. Assessing. Xander had noticed that about him. He wasn't the guy who walked into places blind.

Alex hesitated, then spoke. "When I pulled into the truck stop before everything went to hell, these doors were open." His voice was calm, measured. "That means someone shut and locked them after the fact. Could be people inside. Could be something worse." He exhaled slowly, weighing his next words. "Look, I wouldn't usually mention this, but I've... been known to get into places people don't want other people getting into. If we want to do this quiet, I can get us in."

"So, a petty thief, huh? Should've guessed. Just don't go picking my pockets, boy."

Alex's face didn't change, but something behind his eyes went cold. He met Charlie's gaze and held it for half a second too long before shaking his head and glancing at Xander instead. "Choice is yours."

Xander was about to respond when Charlie responded first. "We don't have time for this sneaky bullshit. If someone's inside, I'd rather take them by surprise than stand around playing with locks."

Then, before anyone could stop him, he drove his boot into the door. "Look, I wouldn't normally mention this, but I've..."

The crack of splintering wood shattered the stillness. The impact echoed across the lot, bouncing off steel and concrete, stretching into the unnatural quiet.

Xander tensed. Too loud. Too reckless.

The door caved inward with a groan, the broken lock dangling uselessly from splintered wood. The entryway yawned open into unlit space, the dark interior pressing against the dim outside light.

Nothing. Just silence, thick and absolute.

Then metal groaned, slow and deliberate, as if something heavy was shifting its weight. A faint scrape followed, a whispering drag of something hard skimming over steel before settling onto concrete with a muted, rhythmic tap. The sound faded almost as quickly as it had come, swallowed by the unnatural stillness, leaving only the faint echo of movement that should not have been.

Charlie smirked. "See? Nothing."

Xander didn't move. "Did you not just hear that noise? Something's in there."

"Oh no, maybe it's the ghost of a mechanic who never finished his last oil change."

Xander kept his focus on the darkened entrance. If anything was inside, it knew about them now. Charlie had made sure of that.

The smell hit first as they entered. The kind of stench that clung to the back of the throat and settled in deep, refusing to be ignored. Blood, already beginning to sour. The raw, organic stink of something torn open and left to rot. Xander breathed shallowly through his nose, forcing himself to push past it. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever smelled. But it was damn close.

What little light came through the grimy, unwashed windows barely reached the center of the room. Shapes and shadows swallowed details, but the wreckage told the story clearly enough. Furniture broken and overturned, smeared with dark streaks. Deep gouges along the floor leading back behind the main counter, where the blood was thickest.

Someone had been dragged.

Cautiously, Xander stepped forward. The others followed, but no one spoke. Even Charlie, who had been running his mouth nonstop outside, kept his lips pressed in a thin, flat line.

The body, or what was left of it, was barely recognizable as human.

It wasn't just dismembered. Something tore it to shreds.

Deep surgical slashes cut through flesh and bone alike, limbs severed cleanly, not chewed, not torn, but removed. The counter itself had deep gouges along its edge, as if something had braced against it for leverage while pulling the victim apart.

Xander's stomach twisted, but not from the sight. He'd seen gory before. What unsettled him was the precision.

Whatever had done this had worked quickly, efficiently.

And it was big.

"Clear," Xander said. "But guys… I don't think rodentia did this."

He turned back to the others, his gaze flicking to Charlie for just a second. The man stood rigid, shoulders squared too tightly, hands clenched. Not into fists, not in anger. He was forcing himself still. His bravado, his constant barking, his bullshit, all of it was covering for something else. He was terrified.

Charlie made a sound low in his throat, then abruptly turned away. His movement jostled the counter, and the wet slap of something falling shifted the air just enough to release a fresh wave of decay. He gagged once, catching himself, but the moment had already happened.

Xander gave him half a second of silence to pull himself together, then exhaled sharply and gestured ahead. "Blood trail doesn't stop here. Some of it goes deeper into the building. Looks like we've got two ways forward."

To the right, stairs led up into the dark. To the left, a short hallway ended at a closed steel fire door leading to the shop. Offices lined one side, their dust-streaked windows barely reflecting the dim light.

Xander studied both options. Then he turned to the others. "We go up first."

The second floor was a mess.

Paperwork lay scattered across the floor, old invoices and work orders reduced to a meaningless snowfall of white and yellow sheets. The drawers of the overturned filing cabinets hung open at odd angles. The chairs lay overturned, and someone had moved the desks. Then there was the blood. A lot of blood.

It smeared the walls and floors, soaking into the paper that had once covered the room. Thick, dark streaks painted a trail toward the deeper offices, but like downstairs, there were no bodies. No corpses slumped behind desks, no broken forms left in the wreckage. Just the aftermath of violence, with nothing left to account for it.

"I mentioned to you it was the murder building." Zoey said.

Xander moved cautiously, spear held at an angle, eyes sweeping each room as they went. The first office was empty, aside from the ruin of an overturned desk and a tipped-over metal bookshelf that had punched a deep dent into the drywall. The second wasn't much different. Filing cabinets gutted, a phone resting off its hook as if someone had tried to make a call before everything went to hell.

The third office was darker, its door halfway open, as if someone had left in a hurry but never finished stepping through. The moment Xander pushed inside, he knew something was wrong.

Then came the movement.

A blur of matted fur and snapping teeth surged from the shadows. Charlie barely had time to react before the first rat was on him.

It was big, easily the size of a pit bull, thick-bodied and heavy, and it hit hard. The impact sent Charlie sprawling, his yell of surprise cutting off into a scream as the rat's teeth sank into his ankle, claws raking deep.

Xander spun, but a second rat lunged from beneath the desk. He barely got his spear up in time, the weight of the creature slamming against the shaft, its breath hot and rancid as it snapped inches from his arm. He twisted, planting his feet, and hooked the spear under its belly, leveraging the haft to shove it backward. The rat hit the far wall with a shriek, legs scrabbling against the tile before it recovered, turning its beady black eyes on him.

"Son of a bitch!" Charlie bellowed, thrashing under the weight of the first rat, but his struggles only made the wounds worse. Its jagged teeth grinding deeper, the rat clung to him.

A flash of steel, and suddenly Alex detached the rat's head from its body. The thing hadn't even seen him coming, too focused on tearing into Charlie's leg to notice the man coming up behind it. The body convulsed once, then slumped against Charlie's shredded boot.

Xander didn't have time to check on them.

The second rat had recovered, its fur bristling, body low, coiled to spring. It was watching him now, wary, learning. The shove had startled it, but not scared it off.

Xander didn't wait for it to make the next move.

He feinted left, then lunged, driving the spear forward. The rat jerked sideways at the last second, just fast enough to keep from being impaled. The blade tore through its shoulder instead, sinking in deep, but not deep enough to finish it. It shrieked, lashing out, claws raking against Xander's jeans as it twisted, trying to wrench free.

Xander drove forward, putting all his weight behind the spear. The rat hit the wall again, pinned now, but still thrashing.

He ripped the spear out and drove it in again, this time through its throat. The rat shuddered, then went limp.

Charlie's lower leg was a mess. The rat had ruined his boot, shredding the leather so it barely held to his foot, and the flesh beneath was worse. Blood poured from deep lacerations along his calf and ankle, pooling fast, too fast. The rat had dug in deep, torn muscle, maybe even nicked an artery.

"Shit." Xander dropped to a knee beside him, already yanking his belt loose. "We need to move now."

Charlie groaned, face pale, his earlier bravado cracking under the sheer amount of pain.

"You're gonna be fine," Xander said, not because it was true, but because Charlie needed to hear it. He pulled the makeshift tourniquet tight, cutting off the worst of the bleeding. "Alex, help me get him up."

"Yeah," Alex muttered, slipping his knife away. "I got him."

Between the two of them, they hauled Charlie upright, his injured leg barely touching the floor. His face twisted in agony, but he didn't fight them.

Zoey had already moved ahead, eyes sharp as she checked their path. "Let's go. If we're gonna get him back, we need to go now."

They got him downstairs fast, moving as quickly as Charlie could manage. By the time they reached the main entrance, the strain was already wearing on him, sweat beading across his forehead, his jaw tight. Pain and anger consumed him.

The moment they stepped outside, Xander raised a hand, signaling the scavenging crew near the trucks.

JT was the first to see them, his eyes dropping immediately to Charlie's bloodied leg.

"Shit! What happened?"

"Rats," Xander replied. "Big ones."

JT didn't waste time asking for details. "We'll get him back to Starlight." He turned, waving another man over. "Help me get him in the truck."

Charlie gritted his teeth as they transferred his weight to JT and another scavenger. He wasn't looking at Xander. Wasn't looking at anyone.

But as they moved, his voice came out low. Angry. Sharp.

"You let that happen to me."

Xander didn't bother responding. He just turned back toward the hallway, where the drag marks disappeared into the darkness beyond the fire door. It wasn't true, but there would be no reasoning with Charlie at the moment. Although unintentional, Xander still felt responsible for Charlie's injury.

"Come on," Xander said. We need to clear one more place.

The fire door opened with a metallic groan, the hinges screeching loud in the heavy silence.

Xander stepped through first, spear angled low, his gaze sweeping the room. The others followed, moving cautiously, their footsteps muted against the stained concrete.

The mechanic's bay stretched before them like a cavernous expanse of metal and oil-streaked floors. The scent of rust, old diesel fuel, and something else Xander could quite identify hung in the air.

Amber light filtered through the tall, grime-coated windows lining the far wall, casting long, uneven shadows across the space. The light reached only so far, leaving pockets of darkness pooled in the corners, stretching beneath the catwalk that ran the length of the room.

The bays were empty, except for one.

At the far end of the garage, a semi-tractor trailer loomed in the last service bay, its bulk swallowing the light, turning the farthest recesses of the room into a deeper black. The two nearer bays were empty, their vacant pits yawning open, metal grates pushed aside.

And then Xander saw them.

At first, the shapes were just dark silhouettes against the rafters, vague and motionless, hanging in the shadows. But as his eyes adjusted, the details became clearer.

Cocoons scattered across the webbing that covered a third of the ceiling.

His stomach turned as he counted at least five cocoons swaying just slightly, their outlines unmistakably humanoid beneath the pale, fibrous strands. A smaller bundle hung among them, its shape wrong for a person, but still something bipedal.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Whatever had done this hadn't just killed. It had collected.

"So, either we walked into a crime scene for a really fucked-up mummy fetish… or we have a problem."

Xander's words hung in the air.

Then, something else did too.

A sound.

A clack.

Sharp. Sudden. Echoing.

It came from somewhere in the dark above them. One step. Then another. A dry, brittle clicking that skittered through the silence, reverberating off steel and concrete.

Xander's grip on his spear tightened instinctively, and he caught himself. He shifting his stance, forcing himself to relax. Tensing up wouldn't let him react fast enough to whatever was coming.

From above, a faint drag of weight, like something massive, shifting its position.

His Analyze ability flared, the notification slamming into his vision.

[Analyze] Sword Spider | Level 3 | Status: Hostile.

"Well," he muttered. "That's just fantastic."

Zoey didn't hesitate and let loose the arrow she already had knocked in her bow. The instant Zoey's arrow struck, the Sword Spider screeched, a piercing, unnatural sound that rattled through the cavernous garage like metal scraping against metal. The noise sent a spike of unease through Xander's chest, but he barely had time to register it before the creature whipped around, locking onto Zoey.

The machine-gun cadence of its bladed legs striking concrete was a rapid, nightmarish rhythm as it surged forward, its bulk deceptively fast despite its massive size. Zoey was already backpedaling, scrambling for space, but the spider was too fast, bearing down on her with terrifying precision.

Xander threw himself into its path, his spear braced, meeting the monstrous charge head-on.

The impact was like being hit by a truck. The sheer momentum of the spider's attack nearly drove him off his feet, his boots skidding across the concrete as he fought to hold his ground. His spear caught the creature just below its fangs, the haft straining under the pressure as he shoved upward, forcing its snapping mandibles back. But even as he wrestled against its strength, one of its razor-edged forelegs lashed out, aiming for his ribs.

He twisted at the last second, barely dodging the blow, but there was no time to recover before another jagged limb came slicing toward his head. Xander ducked, trying to reposition, but the spider pressed the attack relentlessly, its strikes a blur of calculated violence. The spider's design and build for combat made each movement and strike measured and efficient.

Somewhere behind him, Zoey shouted his name, but he couldn't risk taking his eyes off the creature. Not when it was already adjusting, shifting its stance to lunge again, not when its fangs gleamed as they snapped inches from his face. The sheer force of its movements rattled through his arms, his muscles straining to keep his spear positioned between them. He needed to push back, to create distance, but the spider refused to let him disengage, forcing him into a purely defensive stance.

The spider feinted left before suddenly lashing out with a brutal, sweeping strike from its right foreleg. Xander saw the movement. He tried to shift, but it was too late.

The blow caught him hard across the ribs, pain flaring through his side as his body left the ground. His back slammed into the concrete a moment later, the impact jarring the breath from his lungs, leaving him momentarily stunned. He heard the distant clatter of his spear skidding away, but he focused on forcing air back into his lungs; his chest burned as he struggled to move.

By the time he could think again, the spider was no longer focused on him. It had turned back toward Zoey.

Zoey didn't back down. The moment Xander went tumbling, she raised her bow and fired, her next arrow slicing through the air, aimed directly at the exposed joint between the spider's body and one of its front legs.

The arrow punched through the thinner plating, embedding deep, the shaft quivering from the force of impact. The spider shrieked, its body jerking to the side as its wounded leg buckled beneath it, momentarily throwing it off balance.

Even injured, it adjusted instantly, compensating for the lost limb as it advanced again, undeterred. Zoey knew she had only moments before it reached her, but its erratic, shifting movements made lining up another precise shot almost impossible.

Alex struck from the shadows of the oil pit, his knife slicing cleanly through the tendons of the spider's rear legs. His attack was quick, efficient, and devastatingly well-timed. The Sword Spider lurched violently, the weight of its own body suddenly unbalanced, its movements faltering as it struggled to compensate.

But before Alex could move back into cover, the spider reacted.

With an almost instinctive flick of its abdomen, a burst of thick webbing shot downward. The strands struck hard, coating the pit, pinning Alex in place before he had a chance to escape.

"Shit!" Alex shouted, struggling against the sticky fibers.

Xander forced himself to move, pushing off the ground with a grunt, his ribs aching. His lungs burned from the impact, but the pain was manageable, but just enough to piss him off.

The spider was still staggering, its balance off, its movements slower than before, but it wasn't retreating. It continued to advance on Zoey, still intent on killing her; however, it was now wounded and bleeding from multiple points, and half its legs could barely support its weight.

Xander would not give it a chance to recover.

Snatching his spear from the floor, he surged forward, stepping into range as the spider turned just slightly toward him, reacting too late to his movement. He drove the spear forward, not just stabbing, but shoving the full weight of his body behind it, aiming for the exposed wound Zoey had created. The blade punched through chitin and flesh, tearing into muscle and nerves. The spider let out a strangled, chittering screech, its body convulsing wildly.

For the first time, it backed away. It was trying to retreat.

Legs scrabbling against the concrete, it lurched toward the rafters, attempting to flee into the safety of its webbing above. It climbed fast, dragging itself upward despite its injuries, silk trailing behind it as it sought to disappear into the darkness.

Zoey inhaled slowly, steadied her stance, and drew her bowstring back to its limit. The spider was already halfway up, slipping into the rafters, seconds from vanishing.

The arrow pierced straight through the spider's head, burying itself deep, the impact snapping its momentum, freezing it in place for a fraction of a second before it lost its grip completely.

The massive body plummeted. The impact shook the ground, a heavy, sickening crunch as its weight crumpled inward. Its remaining legs twitched once, twice, then curled in toward its body in its final death throes.

Xander stood at the ready, observing the corpse, waiting for any sign of movement. When none came, he finally let himself exhale fully. The Sword Spider was dead, its massive body collapsed inward, its remaining legs curled tight against its ruined exoskeleton. The last echoes of the fight faded into silence, leaving only the faint, sticky sound of ichor pooling across the concrete floor.

"Nice shot."

"You softened it up for me." Zoey said, lowering her bow with a smirk.

Then Alex's voice drifted up from the service pit.

"So, uh… anytime you guys wanna get me out of here, that'd be great."

Xander twisted from side to side, testing the ache in his ribs where the spider had knocked him aside. The blow didn't break his ribs, but it would definitely bruise. He could still feel the impact rattling through his bones, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of just sitting down for a minute.

Instead, he crossed the shop floor to the edge of the service pit. "You good? You need anything? Water? A snack? Maybe a better plan next time?"

"It was tactical positioning." Alex said.

Zoey barked out a laugh. "Right. And getting wrapped up like an all-you-can-eat entrée was just part of the strategy?"

"Exactly," Alex said. "Sometimes you gotta sacrifice a little dignity for a tactical advantage."

Zoey snorted and hopped down into the pit, unsheathing her dagger. She sliced through one of the web strands, but the sticky fibers resisted, clinging to her blade. Frowning, she adjusted her grip and tried again, but the strands just stretched, pulling like glue, refusing to cut cleanly.

"This stuff is worse than duct tape," she muttered, shifting to a different angle.

Xander sighed and crouched at the edge of the pit. "All right, move over before you both get stuck." He dropped beside them, pulling his bushcraft knife from his belt and giving the webbing a quick test slice. It resisted immediately, pulling back like sinew, the tension forcing him to saw through instead of getting a clean cut.

"God, this is disgusting," he said, shaking loose a sticky strand as he worked. "I just killed a human-sized spider, and now I have to dig through its leftovers to save your ass." He shot Alex a flat look. "I want you to appreciate how much I hate this."

Alex grinned. "Noted. But that's why you keep me around. Worth the trouble."

Xander frowned, but didn't argue. Between the three of them, they pried apart the strands piece by piece, the fibers pulling and stretching, resisting at every turn. By the time the last of the webbing snapped free, Alex flexed his arms and rolled his shoulders back like he hadn't just spent the last several minutes cocooned in spider spit.

He grinned. "Well, that was fun. Let's never do it again."

Xander shook his head, flicking the last bits of webbing off his blade. "Yeah? Next time, maybe don't parkour your way into the thing's kill zone."

Alex didn't even blink. "Next time, maybe we don't fight anything that can wrap people up like a horror movie villain."

"Next time," Zoey cut in, already climbing out of the pit, "I hope whatever we kill at least has something valuable on it. Because if that spider didn't have loot, I say we go back and kick its corpse."

Xander smirked, hauling himself up after her. "Yeah. Let's go shake it down for loose change."

Alex clapped his hands together, brushing off what little webbing still clung to him. "I don't know. I think I was worth the trouble."

Xander gave him a long, dry look. "I think you were worth some trouble. Jury's still out on this much trouble."

Alex grinned. "I'll take that."

Xander wiped down his knife, casting one last glance at the motionless spider. Even dead, the thing was unnerving with its long, bladed legs curled inward, its body crumpled in on itself, ichor still leaking in slow, viscous streams onto the stained concrete.

"Well," he said, stepping back and gesturing toward the corpse with mock enthusiasm. "Anyone know how to field dress a giant spider?"

Zoey turned to him, arching a brow. "That a serious question?"

"Absolutely," Xander deadpanned. "I've always dreamed of a career in giant spider taxidermy. Real passion project."

"Hate to break it to you, but I was more of a steal things and not get caught guy, not a carve up monstrous abominations for spare parts guy." Alex said.

"I feel like those are connected somehow."

Alex replied, "Not legally."

"You know what? I think we'll just let JT handle this one. I'm sure he'd love to be the first guy in history to take a butcher knife to something that looks like it crawled out of a horror movie." Xander said.

Zoey nodded. "Better him than us."

Xander turned toward Alex. "Speaking of, you feel like climbing up there and checking those cocoons? Just in case the Simulation got generous and left us something for our trouble?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it. Zoey, cover me in case something up there decides I look like a snack."

"On it." Zoey slung her bow off her shoulder, testing the tension on the string as she took a few steps back to get a wider field of view. "Just don't fall and die. I feel like that'd be embarrassing after we just saved your ass."

Alex smirked. "Noted."

He made his way to the far wall, choosing a route up the support beams, using the same structural braces and metal framing that mechanics had likely climbed a hundred times before, just never for this particular reason. It didn't take him long to reach the first cocoon, though even from a distance, his body language said all they needed to know.

After a moment, he shook his head. "No survivors."

None of them spoke. They hadn't expected otherwise, but the confirmation still left a heavy pause hanging between them.

Alex scanned the rest of the area before shifting toward a different cocoon. Unlike the others, this one was smaller, the outline jagged and misshapen. He leaned closer, peeling back a portion of the webbing until the mangled remains of a rodentia slumped forward, stiff and lifeless.

"Guess the spider wasn't picky," he said.

"Find anything useful?"

"Let's see, raggedy boots, barely holding together. Gross." Alex shoved those aside and kept going. "I see a weird-ass sword, cobbled together from car parts, it seems. Slightly less gross, but not exactly pristine craftsmanship."

He fished something else out, turning it over in his hands before holding it up so the others could see. "And a gold coin. Because that makes sense."

Zoey squinted. "Again with the gold coins?"

"Looks like it." Alex rolled one between his fingers before stuffing them in his pocket. "Simulation's got a sense of humor, I guess."

Xander frowned, considering that. Currency implied an economy, which implied something else was out there to trade with. A question for later.

"For now," Xander said, "bring it down. Let's see what we're working with."

Alex gave the rodentia one last pat-down before kicking it off the ledge. The stiff, rat-like corpse landed with a solid thud, sending up a small cloud of dust.

"Sorry, buddy," Alex said. "Guess we looted you after all."

Xander watched as Alex shifted, preparing to climb down, then froze. Something in the webbing had caught his eye.

Xander squinted, trying to follow his line of sight. Not a toolbox. Not a crate. A treasure chest, metal-banded, heavy, and locked. It was wedged deep in the silk, as if the spider had hidden it there on purpose.

Alex blinked, tilting his head. "Uh. Guys?"

"What?"

Alex tapped the side of the chest, still half-stuck in webbing. "Either this spider was really into medieval home decor, or the Simulation actually left us something for our troubles."

Zoey's bow lowered slightly. "You're kidding."

Alex knocked his knuckles against the wood. "Nope. It's locked, though."

Xander exchanged a glance with Zoey before looking back up. "Think you can open it?"

Alex scoffed. "Come on, man." He gestured to himself. "Do I look like someone who doesn't know how to open a locked chest?"

Zoey smirked. "He's got a point."

Xander sighed. "Fine. Just don't fall in to something again."

Alex shot him a mock salute before crouching beside the footlocker, testing the lock with the ease of someone who had done this more times than he'd admit. Xander watched from below as Alex traced the edges with his knife, checking for anything out of place. The guy wasn't reckless, at least, not when it came to traps, but even so, he hesitated slightly before pulling out his lockpicks, as if he didn't fully trust the Simulation to play fair.

The lock gave after a few quick, practiced movements, and Alex cracked the lid just an inch, holding it there for a beat. Xander saw his posture shift slightly, weight tilting back, as if bracing for something to lash out from inside. Nothing happened. After a second, Alex pushed the lid fully open.

"Well," Alex called down. "Guess the spider was hoarding more than just oversized rats."

Xander couldn't see the contents from where he stood, but the way Alex tilted his head in mild approval told him they'd found something worthwhile.

"What are we looking at?" Zoey said.

Alex shifted through the chest, the faint sound of metal sliding against wood carrying down from the rafters. "Short sword, pair of boots… more gold coins."

Xander caught the faint flicker of movement as Alex held something up, adjusting it in the dim light. "Sword any good?"

There was a pause, then a thoughtful hum. "Better than what the rodentia carries." A second later, the blade came sailing down, hilt-first. "Here, catch."

Xander snagged it out of the air, feeling the weight settle into his grip.

Short Sword
Quality: Common
Enchantments: None
Description: A basic short sword used by novice adventurers. Reliable, if unremarkable. Well-balanced and easy to wield, but offers no magical properties or bonuses.

The weapon wasn't extravagant, but it had the kind of balance and durability that meant it wouldn't break after one good swing. A definite upgrade over what Alex had been using.

A pair of boots followed a moment later, landing with a dull thud near his feet.

He picked one up, pressing a thumb against the leather, noting the faint shimmer along the seams, subtle enchantment, light but useful.

Worn Leather Boots of Silence
Quality: Uncommon
Enchantments: Stealth
Description: Made from soft, dark leather and stitched for quiet movement, these boots are a practical choice for scouts, thieves, and anyone who needs to stay quiet. The subtle enchantment adds just enough silence to matter, though most of the effect comes from solid craftsmanship.

"Looks like these are enchanted," Xander called up. "Minor boost to stealth."

Xander glanced over at Zoey, who gave him a nod. "Alex, take the boots and sword."

Alex hesitated just slightly as he dropped back to the floor. "You sure? I don't wanna hog everything."

"You started this mess with a pocket knife. Take the upgrades."

Zoey chimed in without missing a beat. "Yeah, you need them more than we do. Xander and I came into this with decent gear. You didn't. Sure, it was just by blind luck, but it doesn't change the fact we have better weapons and boots than you do."

"Alright, fair enough." He secured the sword at his hip, rolling his foot slightly as he tested the boots. "Guess I'll stop fighting fate."

"The rat-shank had its charm, but I feel like this one won't snap on your second swing."

Alex smirked. "Yeah, well, don't get too jealous. I'll let you borrow it if you ask nicely."

"Alright, with that settled, I'm going to check my notifications really quick before we move on," Xander said.

The Simulation notifications in the corner of his vision pulsed faintly, waiting. With a mental command, he pulled them up.

+2 Spear Combat | Congratulations! For spectacular gallantry, or at least avoiding getting eaten, you have ranked up Spear Combat twice.

+1 Analyze | Congratulations! You can now identify monsters and items slightly easier. Go you!

Ability Learned: Taunt | Congratulations! While your attempt was terrible, you were able to shift the attention of an attack on to yourself.

Warning: Due to the level-zero protocols currently in effect, all active abilities are suspended until achieving level five.

Level Up! Congratulations, you are now level one. Go forth and defend the realms, mighty hunter.

Warning: Due to the current level-zero protocols, class choice and ability points are deferred until level five. Actions taken between levels one and five will contribute toward the available class selection.

Xander scowled. "Oh, come on."

Zoey glanced over. "What?"

"Have you both noticed the Simulation messages getting a little snarky?" He said. "I got a couple skill points and a level up. Looks like it's all banked until level five, because of that level-zero filter."

Zoey blinked, then refocused. Her expression shifted as she scanned her own notifications. "Huh. Yeah, you're right. Definitely a bit of attitude there. I got a couple skills ranked up, too, and the same reminder about the level-five restriction." She paused, then shook her head. "That's going to make things harder."

Alex, still adjusting the new boots he'd looted, let out an exaggerated sigh. "You know, I was really hoping for an ability that lets me ignore giant spiders and their nonsense. Guess I'll just suffer instead."

Xander barely heard them. His irritation still simmered, the level cap restriction gnawing at him. Five levels. How long would that take? How many fights, how many near-death moments, before the Simulation decided they could actually progress? The idea of being strung along like this, bound by arbitrary rules with no way to push forward, made his teeth clench.

He exhaled sharply, forcing the frustration down. This wasn't what mattered. Jo mattered.

The thought came unbidden, cutting through the noise in his head like a blade. The last time he'd seen her was a handful of hours ago, but it already felt like an eternity. He knew, deep in his gut, that she was out there somewhere, fighting her own battles. The idea of waiting, of taking his time and leveling up at whatever pace the Simulation dictated, didn't sit well with Xander. He had to find her.

The moment the thought solidified in his mind, his vision pulsed again. A new notification appeared.

Quest Alert! Save the Girl!
Having repeatedly stated your drive to find your significant other with strong conviction, you are offered a personal quest.
Task: Reunite with Jo.
Difficulty: Variable. Move too quickly, and you won't have the strength to complete this task. Wait too long, and the odds of the desired outcome become more difficult.
Reward: Variable, depending on Jo's status.
Penalty for Failure: None, though success may still result in an outcome different from what you hope for should you not find Jo in a timely manner.

Accept: Yes/No

Xander stared at the words, his pulse a steady, measured beat in his ears. The Simulation had reacted. It hadn't guided him, hadn't offered encouragement or warnings, just acknowledged what was already there and assigned a label to it.

He already knew the risks. He didn't need the Simulation spelling them out for him.

Mentally selecting Yes, he dismissed the screen and exhaled slowly. The quest didn't change anything. It just confirmed what he already knew. He was going to find Jo.

Even if the Simulation refused to promise him a happy ending.

"New bit of info," he said, glancing at the others. "Seems the Simulation heard what I just said and gave me a personal quest for my troubles."

Zoey frowned. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

Xander didn't answer right away. The question lingered in the air, heavier than it should have been.

"I guess we'll find out," he said finally.

Zoey chuckled, glancing toward the exit. "Alright, let's pack it up. We've spent way too long in a spider nest, and I don't wanna find out what else might come looking for its missing roommate."