Onilia woke to the soft kiss of morning sunlight filtering through the pale curtains. The light poured gently into her room, casting a warm, golden hue across the floor. She yawned and stretched, her arms rising above her head as her muscles loosened from a night of rest.
Swinging one leg off the bed, she sat on the edge, her gaze distant. For a moment, she looked lost in thought, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Then, shaking herself free from the haze, she stood and walked toward the bathroom.
The sound of running water soon filled the air. Steam curled up from the hot shower as she scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. After drying off, she slipped into comfortable clothes, flexible, and plain. Her silver hair, still a little damp, rested lightly on her shoulders.
"Is he still not up?" she mumbled, stepping toward the door. "Well, that makes sense. He really did push himself yesterday."
She was halfway down the corridor when she paused.
'Maybe I should take a look at the training grounds,' she thought. 'I need to put together a routine that matches his pace and stamina.'
She adjusted the collar of her shirt and walked briskly. But the closer she got, the more something felt… off. Faint sounds echoed from within—muffled cries and sharp gasps.
And then she heard it.
"No! Please, I beg you, no!" a voice wailed from inside.
She rushed in—only to nearly collapse on the spot.
The gravity inside the training chamber slammed into her like a falling mountain. Her spine strained. Her knees buckled slightly before she quickly adjusted her stance, planting her feet firmly to resist the crushing pressure.
Her eyes darted to the gravity strings. The red string had been pulled four times.
"Four times?" she whispered, stunned. "Did he really train all night?"
The room was lit by the soft glow of the runes etched into the walls. Dust hung in the air, gently falling like snow. The training weights lay scattered across the floor, and in the center of it all was Zane—curled up on the cold, stone floor, drenched in sweat and muttering nonsense.
"He was even able to move those weights around in this insane gravity? Just who or what is he training to protect?"
Onilia's lips twitched—half in disbelief, half in amusement.
Zane groaned and twitched in his sleep. "I swear, Mr. Destroyer, I don't know anyone by that name…"
She raised an eyebrow.
'What kind of dream is he having to scream like that?' she thought, watching him with mild amusement. 'And why is he sweating so much?'
Suddenly, Zane jolted, voice rising in panic. "No! Please, Mr. Destroyer! I'm not into men! Don't pull down my pants! Somebody help me!"
Onilia's eyes widened slightly.
"…Okay, that's enough."
With zero hesitation, she lifted her leg and gave him a swift, sharp kick to the side—not hard enough to injure him, but enough to jolt him back to reality.
Zane gasped and shot up like he'd been electrocuted. He blinked rapidly, eyes searching the room in confusion, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.
Then, his gaze landed on Onilia.
Without thinking, he grabbed onto her leg, clutching it like it was a lifeline in a storm.
"Onilia…" he sniffed, eyes glassy. "You saved me… thank you…" sniff, sniff.
He hugged her shin tightly, nuzzling against it like a frightened child.
Onilia's face slowly turned red—not from embarrassment, but from the effort of holding back a kick.
With a swift motion, she yanked her leg free, causing him to topple onto his back.
Zane groaned, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.
"I'm alive…" he muttered. "Still a man…"
Onilia crossed her arms and stared down at him, sighing.
"You're unbelievable."
He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. His whole body ached, his clothes soaked with sweat, and his hair stuck to his forehead like wet moss.
"I had the worst nightmare…" he muttered. "There was this big guy with horns—said he was the Destroyer—he tried to…"
Onilia held up a hand. "Please. Stop talking."
Zane wisely shut his mouth.
After a moment of silence, she glanced back at the gravity strings and then at the weight he had been dragging.
"You really trained through the night, didn't you?" she asked, her voice softer now.
He gave a weak nod. He ignored her, still recovering from the nightmare.
"I'm alive… and I didn't get violated," he whispered. "That's a win in my book."
"I didn't think you'd go as far as pulling the red string four times," Onilia said, her voice calm but clearly annoyed. She stepped closer, her arms crossed and one brow slightly raised. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"
Zane was still catching his breath, sweat dripping down his face and soaking his shirt. His hair clung to his forehead, and his legs trembled like they were made of jelly. But he stood anyway—slowly, shakily—and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"No, that's not it," he said with a faint smile. "After talking to you yesterday… I realized something."
He turned toward the wall where the strings hung. The glowing threads pulsed faintly, almost alive, like they were aware of the torment they caused. Without hesitation, he reached out and yanked the blue string—the release string.
The weight of twenty-four times gravity vanished instantly, like someone had ripped a mountain off his back. The relief was so intense, Zane actually stumbled a bit, gasping as if he'd just been allowed to breathe after nearly drowning.
'It took me all night just to get used to that,' he thought, staring at Onilia as she stood perfectly straight, unaffected by it the whole time. 'And she's just walking around like it's normal… What the hell is her limit?'
His knees bounced a little as he crouched, then stood, then bounced again. A wild grin broke across his face.
"Wow… I feel like I could fly!" he shouted, practically jumping off the ground. He spun once in the air, clumsily landing on his feet with a chuckle. "Man, this is what normal gravity feels like? I love it!"
Onilia tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. "And what, exactly, did you realize after our little talk yesterday?" she asked, folding her arms tighter.
Zane's grin didn't fade.
'Honestly, Earth is as good as dead. We don't have nearly enough the manpower to survive what's coming. That's why...'
He planted his hands on his hips, puffing his chest like he'd discovered the secrets of the universe.
"Honestly? It's pretty simple," he said. "I realized that Earth's completely screwed."
Onilia blinked.
He nodded firmly. "I mean, there are monsters out there—real monsters. Things humanity hasn't even dreamed of. I used to think Earth was doing fine, but now? If we went into one of those interplanetary awakened ranking tournaments or whatever, I'd probably end up sold at some galactic auction as a low-level slave. Maybe some ugly alien grandma would buy me to rub her back or clean her ten toes."
Onilia looked like she wasn't sure whether to laugh or slap him.
Zane scratched his head and looked up at the ceiling, as if visualizing a brilliant three-step plan floating above him in golden letters.
"So I arrived at a beautiful conclusion," he said, raising one finger like a smug professor unveiling a thesis.
"Step one: I'm praying you beat the crap out of the Destroyer. Like, please, do us all a favor and delete that bastard."
"Step two," he continued, lifting another finger, "I go back to Earth and actually finish the damn tutorial. Because clearly, I need every single upgrade, cheat code, and blessing I can get."
He held up a third finger. "And finally, step three: I stay on your good side, grab Ariel, and haul ass to planet Nanaly. We'll build a farm, raise chickens, grow crops, and most importantly—stay far, far away from those freaks you call universal monsters."
Zane grinned. "I call it the 'Survive-and-Hide Strategy.' Very underrated."