"So? What will it be?" Stellan taunted, poorly hiding the anxiousness trembling in his voice. His words were almost provocative, daring Terry to pull the revolver's trigger while staring into his eyes point-blank, challenging him despite the fear.

  A certain determination, or perhaps foolish pride, filled Stellan's bloodied complexion. But it didn't help his predicament, which was in the form of cold metal pressed against his forehead.

  Terry pressed his unoccupied forearm firmly under Stellan's neck, using it as weight to pin him down. His other hand was fully committed to the revolver, pressing the warm barrel against Stellan's forehead as if silently telling him that it wouldn't be difficult to just end it all right here.

  "You think I won't do it?" Terry coldly stated, staring into Stellan's eyes with deep-seated fury. He cocked the safety of the revolver with his thumb, the click loud in the silence.

  "What's stopping you… get this shit over with," Stellan responded with a voice that was rough but defiant. It was too late for him to acknowledge the trickle of warm piss that had built up in his boxers. He stared back at Terry with little regard for his own life, holding eye contact.

  Terry then pressed the barrel even harder against Stellan's forehead, grinding it in. But this threat was met with challenge, Stellan never averted his gaze, didn't blink, not even once.

  Again, Terry hesitated. He only needed to pull the trigger, nothing too fancy, just a simple squeeze. But he couldn't do it. Not to a familiar face, someone he'd shared drinks with. That was what he wanted you to believe, at least.

  But beliefs are full of falsities and convenient lies. Terry pulled the trigger, the revolver clicking in anticipation.

  Castellan shuddered involuntarily. Flinched hard and squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the clacking of metal on metal, expecting the end.

  But oddly enough, his life was still intact. So was his head. He was still breathing, heart still hammering.

  Terry smiled then, unnervingly wide, like a madman who'd just discovered something that would entertain him. But the gesture wasn't returned in kind. The piss that had accumulated in Stellan's nethers was too ample to be ignored anymore.

  "You got balls at least, I'll tell you that…" Terry remarked, quickly removing the chokehold he had on Stellan and pulling the revolver back toward himself. He offered his unoccupied hand to assist the downed office worker, extending it like a peace offering.

  And yet again, this gesture was not well met. Stellan slapped the offered hand to the side, hurriedly rousing himself to stand on shaky legs. Putting a few feet of distance between himself and Terry.

  "Now what? Round two?" questioned Stellan, clenching his fists and pulling guard like a boxer, ineptly, due to one hand holding a firearm. Terry replied with a snicker.

  "Keep pushing your luck and you'll end up like that guy," Terry mused, pointing at the wide-eyed dead body still sprawled on the ground.

  Terry then walked near the body's side, striding casually like nothing had happened, like he hadn't just executed a man. While Stellan never removed his eyes from him, tracking his every movement with suspicion. A few searches later, Terry's hands found something on the meaty finger of the corpse. He then flicked it over toward Stellan in an underhand toss. Stellan's unoccupied hand caught it with near perfection.

  It was circular, like a sphere, but plain and cold against his palm. He described the sensation as like holding a marble. But once he opened his clenched fist to examine it, he soon realized he'd guessed wrong. It was a ring, dark silver with some kind of intricate pattern inscribed along its surface. Its only redeeming quality being a faint light glowing softly on the inscription.

  "Wear it…" Terry ordered. His eyes still fixed on his corpse pillaging, rifling through pockets.

  "What is it?" asked Stellan, turning the ring over in his fingers.

  A few rustles of clothes and buttons being forcibly removed later, Terry responded without looking up. "It's an interspatial ring… wear it and you'll understand."

  A what ring? Stellan wondered. With no choice but to oblige, he slipped it onto his ring finger, the metal cool against his skin.

  As soon as he equipped it, the accessory hurriedly latched itself on. Molding into the tint of his skin as it sank into the cartilage, obscured from plain sight. Soon a sensation that he was somehow familiar with entered his brain forcefully, unlike the tranquil meditation he'd needed to activate his character panel earlier. This was invasive, pushing in. Soon he heard a voice of a woman in his mind, unfamiliar still but it carried a maternal warmth to it, invoking him to listen and comply.

  Analyzing owner 100% DNA does not match = Candidate_JohnsonMax Reiterating… Reiterating 100% Replace original owner? YES/NO Searching = original owner… Searching 100% Candidate_JohnsonMax [Status]: Terminated Reiterating… Reiterating 100% Integrating Inventory 89.2% Inventory Integration Complete Analyzing Owner 100% (New) Name:_____

  The words cascaded inside Stellan's thoughts like a waterfall. Dividing his attention despite Terry's continuous rummaging of the corpse behind him. Stellan could not explain clearly what the feeling was like. It felt like having another brain inside his brain, a second consciousness. Like a separate identity had taken up residence inside his thoughts, digital and foreign. The sensation continued, patiently waiting for his input, until he complied.

  Analyzing Owner 100% DNA match = Candidate_Dandy628 Check inventory?

  It felt like a secondary reflex, instinctive. Like it was a sixth sense that had just suddenly latched on and decided to blend seamlessly with his existence. Curious about what his 'Inventory' contained, he proceeded to check.

  Candidate_Dandy628 Gray 1-Star ★ Inventory: → Lesser Mana pill 3x → Newbie handbook 1x → Newbie Reward Chest (Common) 1x

  A chest? Stellan thought. Surely unopened due to the cowering panic of the ring's original owner, the dead man who was now beyond caring. Terry's continued search of the body became background noise. His eyes shifted toward Terry, who was still busy stripping the corpse. Making him consider if he should ask what this 'reward chest' meant, if he should share the information.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  It has the word 'Reward' in it, so it might not be bad. Can't hurt to check. Convinced with his reasoning, and seeing that Terry was still busy, he then made the mental motion to utilize the item.

  Candidate_Dandy628 Gray 1-Star ★ Inventory: → Lesser Mana pill 3x → Newbie handbook 1x → Newbie Reward Chest (Common) 1x → Use Newbie Reward Chest (Common) 1x ??

  Opening… Newbie Reward Chest (Common) → 100 Tokens → 10 Essence → 25 XP → Lesser Health pill 3x → Poor man's rations 5x

  Not bad… Stellan thought despite not knowing what these words entailed. He was genuinely fascinated by this experience, the gamification of survival. It reminded him of the joy he'd felt when he'd first bought a gaming console with his own hard-earned money during college, only to barely use it due to his demanding work schedule. But his nostalgic recollection was cut short when suddenly Terry appeared in his face. Striking close, observing him with narrowed eyes, prying at the subtle changes in Stellan's expression.

  "You seem to be enjoying yourself…" Terry interrupted, voice flat but suspicious. For some reason, Stellan felt a rather unwelcome aura emanating from him, dark and threatening.

  "Not as much as you," Stellan retorted sharply. Tilting his neck toward the almost naked corpse lying behind Terry. "You done defiling your victim?" he asked, staring at Terry whose barely contained tenseness couldn't hide in his face.

  Terry grinned devilishly before answering. "Had nothing on him except blubber. I reckon it's inside that ring…" He gestured toward the ring now adorning Stellan's finger. "What's in it?"

  "Some pills, and a handbook of some sort…" Stellan answered vaguely.

  "And? Is there anything else?" Terry inquired, his tone shifting to something more demanding.

  Stellan caught on to the change. But due to the earlier violent scuffle they'd had, he was reluctant to give Terry any more advantages. So he lied smoothly. "I don't think so…"

  "You're not sure?" Terry pressed, eyes narrowing further.

  Stellan gulped from the intense interrogation. But something told him that he shouldn't back down now, that his instinct was screaming that he needed to use the cards dealt to him properly if he wanted to survive. "I think I got uhhh… a ration of some sort," Stellan answered carefully. Which Terry acknowledged with a slight nod.

  "Fucking finally, some proper food… go on then, summon it," Terry added, almost salivating at the prospect.

  "Summon? How?" Stellan asked.

  "Same as the panel thing from earlier. Just visualize that it can appear in front of you…" Terry explained, demonstrating with crude gestures with his own hand.

  Stellan begrudgingly followed Terry's suggestion, concentrating. The sensation was still there, lingering in his mind. He thought specifically of one of the items named 'Poor man's rations' and outstretched his left palm expectantly. A single packet of an MRE materialized gently on his hand.

  Terry snatched it so fast that Stellan couldn't make a proper response, couldn't even blink. Looking at him now, really studying him, Stellan examined Terry's complexion carefully. He looked thinner than the last time he'd seen him in the office, gaunt and hollow. And he desperately needed a shower. So Stellan did what a man who still had a sense of decency would do and chose to ignore the starving thief, at least for now.

  Terry then noticed Stellan staring at him with that pitying expression. This time his face showed the most unnerving vulnerability he'd displayed since their reunion. It was raw, visible shame painted across his weathered face like a homeless man who'd been rejected when asking for spare change.

  This made Stellan feel a bit of genuine pity. Believing that the reason for Terry's drastic change was due to prolonged hunger and a crushing sense of loneliness. Although this did not acquit Terry of being a cold-blooded murderer in Stellan's eyes, for now he would look the other way.

  In the middle of his contemplating, Terry interrupted with a rather sullen approach. "Look man… I–"

  But Stellan interrupted his interruption, taking the first conversational strike. "What do we do with the body…" he asked, changing the subject deliberately.

  "Just leave it… let nature do its thing," Terry replied with a dismissive shrug.

  "Now you talk like a vegan? After butchering a man?" Stellan challenged.

  "It was him or us… and I chose me," Terry simply answered.

  Stellan took a downward glance at the almost nude, overweight corpse lying there. Oddly enough, he made no gag reflex during this viewing, which concerned him since he thought he still had three more rounds of vomiting to go.

  "Look, Stellan…" Terry began. "I… I apologize man, it's just been so long since I…" he hesitated. But he knew he had to say it, since there was finally someone who was willing to listen. "It's just been hard… I miss my cat, I miss society… shit, I even miss sitting on that damn uncomfortable chair in the office," he confessed, his voice cracking slightly on the last words.

  "How long have you been here?" Stellan asked.

  Terry seemed dejected with the question, his shoulders sagging. He was struggling to count the numbers in his head, his time blurring together. "A year? Or two maybe? I don't know… I don't have a calendar to check. Days just come and go," he admitted.

  Stellan was surprised. The numbers didn't add up at all. Terry had only been absent from his cubicle for a month at most, the workload that Stellan had been forced to endure was so grueling that he couldn't forget to count the days he'd worked overtime, each one burned in his memory. But what Terry was claiming violated the laws of time. So he asked further.

  "Bullshit… You've been gone for a couple of weeks, a month tops," Stellan said with a harsher tone.

  "Is that so…" Terry answered. Not matching or adapting to Stellan's aggravated tone.

  "Is my cat Fuschia still alive? Did you… check on her or something?" he asked, voice going soft again.

  "I didn't have the keys to your apartment man… But I think she's fat enough to survive another month," Stellan responded with an attempt to humor him. This garnered a rather needed chuckle from Terry, a real laugh that had been misplaced for a long time.

  "Yeah, she is a fatass… Did I ever tell you that I got her from an ex of mine? I think I'll call her once I get back. If I get back," Terry mused, smiling sadly.

  Terry, whose mind had been plagued with constant survival stress, softened visibly in this moment of humanity. After such a long time of looking over his shoulder and checking whether or not he could sleep with both eyes closed, some nights completely sleepless, his rest broken by hearing the distant cries of other candidates being ripped apart in the darkness. Screams that weighed down on his mind throughout his entire stay. Although Stellan would never fully know the extent of the trauma, he could still see it in Terry's eyes.

  "I think we should do something about the body. I can't think clearly when there's a corpse collecting dust nearby," Stellan stated. Terry had a quick flashback of his life before all this and quickly agreed with a nod.

  But something was still nagging in Stellan's mind. His eyes kept drifting toward the revolver in Terry's possession, and this nervous eyeing didn't go unnoticed.

  "I wasn't planning on killing you, you know…" Terry added.

  "There would have been two bodies collecting dust right now if the chambers were loaded," Stellan shot back. Still showing a hint of disgust from the trigger-pulling Terry had done earlier.

  But Terry refused to break the current fragile peace they had. "I got no bullets left…" he stated.

  "What?" Stellan questioned.

  "That was the last bullet I had. I was planning on using it to…" Terry replied, trailing off. The implication was clear.

  Stellan didn't need to ask further. The solemnness in Terry's tone painted a dark enough picture. He was still undecided whether or not he could fully trust him. But for now, he settled into the tentative alliance they both shared. He focused his will and summoned the rest of the rations from his inventory, manifesting them one by one.

  Terry's eyes glittered from the food packets that his body so desperately needed, almost shedding tears of relief. He unceremoniously tried to lunge forward and hug Stellan, overcome with gratitude. But Stellan was not eager to be intimate with his friend who severely lacked proper hygiene, backing up quickly.

  "OH SHIT! That guy was loaded!" Terry shouted with excitement. Almost forgetting that the whole point of killing the fat man was for them to continue their quiet seclusion.

  Castellan shushed his celebration sharply. Raising the MRE packets to the side of his body where Terry couldn't easily reach them, holding them hostage. Not a bright strategic plan considering that he'd just narrowly avoided death from this grumpy, unpredictable man. But Stellan needed leverage in this relationship, at least something, and this time he finally had it.

  "I'll give you half of whatever this is… But you have to tell me everything you know," Stellan firmly stated. A brief silence happened between the tense staredown of the two men, neither blinking. Before Terry finally broke the silence with a resigned sigh.

  "Deal," Terry agreed, extending his hand to shake on it.