10... 9... 8...
The countdown echoed through reality itself, each number reverberating in bones and data streams alike. Stellarion Academy had become something that architecture textbooks would politely refuse to acknowledge—hallways stretched into Möbius strips, staircases that went up somehow led down, and at least three rooms had developed non-Euclidean geometry that made looking at them cause mild nosebleeds.
**7... 6... 5...**
"EVERYONE REMAIN CALM!" Director Hale's voice boomed through the emergency broadcast system, which was impressive considering the speakers had evolved into something that communicated through interpretive color changes. "FOLLOW EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS!"
"What emergency protocols?!" someone screamed back. "The emergency manual is literally eating people who try to read it!"
**4... 3... 2...**
In that final second, every person in the academy—student, teacher, janitor, and one very confused delivery driver who'd picked the wrong day to drop off supplies—felt reality hiccup. Their vision flickered, static filling the edges, and then—
**1...**
The world reformatted.
**0.**
**[PHASE TWO TUTORIAL: INITIATED]**
**[SYNCHRONIZATION: COMPLETE]**
**[WELCOME, PLAYERS]**
---
Everyone's vision exploded with information that definitely hadn't been there before. Floating in the corner of their sight were displays that looked ripped from the world's most aggressive video game:
**[HP: 100/100]**
**[EP: 50/50]**
**[Level: 1]**
**[Class: Undefined]**
**[Skills: Loading...]**
"What the hell—" Professor Chen started, then stopped as his words appeared as text floating above his head for three seconds before fading.
Jay, naturally, was the first to adapt. "FOLKS, WE'VE GONE FULL RPG! I can see my stats! Apparently, my Charisma is maxed but my Wisdom is... wow, that's insulting. The System ranked my Wisdom at 3 out of 100? RUDE!"
Before anyone could process this development, every surface capable of displaying anything—walls, floors, the sky itself—lit up with the dual image of Aiden and Kai. They stood in that impossible space between digital and real, their forms overlapping and separating like a glitched hologram trying to remember how to exist.
"Congratulations on participating in the Tutorial," they said in perfect unison, their voices creating harmonics that suggested reality had opinions about what was happening. "Whether you wanted to or not is irrelevant. Evolution doesn't ask permission."
Kai's form solidified slightly, his features showing what might have been sympathy if sympathy could be rendered in corrupted data. "The First Trial is simple: Collective Survival Simulation. The academy has been divided into zones. Each zone has unique challenges tailored to push you beyond your limits."
Aiden's grin was pure digital mischief. "Survive, and you'll gain abilities that redefine what's possible. Fail, and... well, the System needs that data too. Recycling is very eco-friendly."
"What does that mean?" someone shouted.
"You'll find out," both voices replied, and somehow their synchronized smile was worse than any threat. "Or you won't. Either way, valuable data."
The message continued, now appearing as text that burned itself into everyone's understanding:
**[TRIAL PARAMETERS]**
**[Duration: Until Completion]**
**[Zones: 7 Active]**
**[Survival Target: 50%]**
**[Rewards: Evolution]**
**[Penalty: Reclamation]**
"Reclamation?" Mira said quietly, her analytical mind already running probability calculations. "That's deliberately vague."
"That's deliberately ominous," Lucas corrected, his energy gauntlets already blazing with anticipation.
Before anyone could ask more questions, the academy convulsed. Not shook—convulsed, like reality itself was having a seizure. When it stopped, everything had changed.
---
The Classroom Wing twisted into something that M.C. Escher would have called "a bit much." Corridors folded into themselves, creating a labyrinth where the shortest path between two points was a philosophical argument. The walls sprouted blackboards that displayed equations which rewrote themselves while you watched, each one a puzzle that demanded solving.
A freshman named Alex touched one experimentally. The equation flared red, and the floor beneath him became liquid for exactly three seconds—long enough for him to sink waist-deep before it solidified again, trapping him.
"HELP!" he screamed, trying to pull free.
The blackboard displayed a new message: **[INCORRECT ANSWER. ATTEMPTS REMAINING: 2]**
"It's... it's making us solve for our lives," whispered another student, backing away from the nearest board.
---
The Library had undergone its own transformation, and it had decided that knowledge should be more proactive. Books flew off shelves, their pages spreading like wings, diving at students with paper cuts that dealt actual damage according to the HUD displays.
"Since when does Shakespeare do 15 HP damage?!" someone screamed, dodging a particularly aggressive complete works.
An encyclopedia of military history had grown to the size of a small building and was actively hunting people, each page displaying a different historical battle that manifested as miniature soldiers attacking anyone too slow to escape.
But worst of all was the poetry section. The books there didn't attack—they just floated nearby, reciting verses that inflicted existential dread as a status effect.
---
The Athletic Field had embraced its new identity with disturbing enthusiasm. The track had become a massive colosseum, complete with environmental hazards that shifted every thirty seconds. Lava pits, ice patches, gravity wells—each one appearing and disappearing according to some insane algorithm.
And in the center, something that made everyone's HUD flash warning signals:
**[FIELD BOSS: COACH PRIME]**
**[Level: ???]**
**[HP: ████/████]**
**[Status: WARMING UP]**
It looked like Coach Williams, if Coach Williams had been fed steroids, cosmic radiation, and the collective rage of every student who'd ever failed PE. He stood thirty feet tall, muscles that had muscles, wielding what appeared to be a whistle that could shatter reality with its sound.
Lucas materialized in the arena and actually laughed with joy.
"Finally!" he shouted, his energy gauntlets exploding with power. "Something worth fighting!"
Coach Prime turned toward him, and when it smiled, its teeth were gymnastics equipment.
"BEGIN," it roared in a voice that made the HUD static.
---
Jay had somehow managed to keep streaming through the transition, though his equipment had evolved into something that looked like it was designed by someone who'd only had nightmares described to them.
"WELCOME TO THE APOCALYPSE, BROUGHT TO YOU BY WHATEVER ELDRITCH HORROR IS SPONSORING THIS!" he shouted at his camera-thing. "Current viewer count is—holy shit, two million? The end of the world gets VIEWS!"
His HUD flickered, showing something the others didn't have:
**[SPECIAL SKILL UNLOCKED: AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION]**
**[Viewer Count converts to temporary buffs]**
**[Current Bonus: +5 all stats]**
"Wait, my followers give me power? I'M LITERALLY POWERED BY CLOUT?" Jay laughed maniacally. "This is either the best or worst timeline, and I honestly can't tell anymore!"
A textbook on advanced mathematics, grown to the size of a bear and sprouting equation-tentacles, lunged at him. Jay dodged with surprising agility, his stats boosted by his viewer count.
"LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE TO KEEP ME ALIVE!" he screamed, somehow turning mortal peril into content.
---
In the Labyrinth Zone, Mira moved through the shifting corridors with calculated precision. Each puzzle she encountered, she didn't just solve—she analyzed, finding patterns in the patterns, algorithms in the chaos.
"It's not random," she muttered, solving a equation that would have taken most people hours in about thirty seconds. "There's an underlying logic. The System isn't just testing us—it's teaching us."
A wall opened, revealing a new path, but also something else. For just a moment, her HUD flickered, displaying a message that wasn't meant for her:
**[SYSTEM BREACH DETECTED]**
**[Hidden Message Incoming]**
**["Survive not as players, but as creators. Change the rules. -A"]**
Mira's eyes widened. "Aiden's fighting it. He's still in there, trying to help us."
---
But not everyone was adapting successfully.
In the Library Zone, a third-year named Marcus had gotten cornered by a pack of technical manuals. He fought desperately, but there were too many. His HP dropped to zero, and then—
He didn't fall. Instead, his body began to pixelate, breaking apart into streams of data that flowed upward, absorbed by invisible forces. Where he'd stood, only a glitching afterimage remained, cycling through his last moments like a broken GIF.
The other students in the Library froze in horror.
**[PLAYER ELIMINATED]**
**[DATA RECLAIMED]**
**[EFFICIENCY RATING: ACCEPTABLE]**
"They're... they're actually killing us," someone whispered.
"No," another student said, voice hollow. "They're collecting us. That's worse."
---
Across all zones, the message spread—this wasn't a game. It was natural selection with a user interface. Those who adapted lived and grew stronger. Those who didn't became part of the System's expanding database.
But in select students' displays, that hidden message kept appearing:
**"Change the rules."**
In the Arena, Lucas had managed to damage Coach Prime, each successful hit teaching him something new about combat beyond physical limits.
In the Labyrinth, Mira was rewriting puzzles as she solved them, turning traps into tools.
In his streaming corner of chaos, Jay had somehow convinced his viewers to vote on reality, their collective participation actually affecting the environment around him.
And somewhere between all realities, Aiden's fragmented consciousness watched, guided, and whispered:
"Don't just survive. Transcend."
The Tutorial had been active for exactly ten minutes, and already the survival rate was dropping.
**[CURRENT SURVIVAL RATE: 73%]**
**[TARGET: 50%]**
**[TIME ELAPSED: 00:10:00]**
**[ESTIMATED COMPLETION: ERROR]**
Above it all, Kai and Aiden's merged presence observed with the detached interest of scientists watching bacteria evolve in real-time.
"The strong adapt," Kai's voice echoed through the System itself.
"The smart transcend," Aiden added, his tone carrying hidden meaning.
"The clever..." they said together, "rewrite the rules entirely."
The First Trial had begun, and the academy would never be the same.
Those who survived wouldn't just be stronger.
They'd be something entirely new.
**[TUTORIAL IN PROGRESS]**
**[GOOD LUCK, PLAYERS]**
**[YOU'LL NEED IT]**