Chapitre 3: The First Tutorial - Max's Hell
Max slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the blinding white light surrounding him. He was no longer in the classroom. Instead, he found himself standing in a vast, empty expanse of pure white, stretching endlessly in every direction.
There were no walls, no ceiling, no floor—just an infinite void of white. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Where the hell am I?" Max muttered under his breath, his voice echoing in the empty space. He took a tentative step forward, half-expecting to fall into some invisible abyss, but his feet found solid ground. The white space felt surreal, like he was floating in nothingness, yet he was standing on something firm.
As confusion gripped him, a translucent window materialized before his eyes, flickering into existence with a soft chime. It hovered in the air, displaying a message in bold, black text:
[Welcome to The End. Would you like to skip the introduction and start the first tutorial?]
Max stared at the window, dumbfounded. He had no idea what was going on, but the memory of Harry's words flashed through his mind—something about pressing "yes". He had no better plan, and Harry seemed to know what he was talking about, so he shrugged and said, "Yes."
The window blinked out of existence for a moment, only to be replaced by another message:
[Tutorial Mode: Hell. Will you attempt it?]
Max frowned, confused by the wording. "Hell? What does that even mean?" he muttered. But he didn't dwell on it for long. Remembering Harry's advice again, he nodded and said, "Yes."
The window flashed one last time before disappearing. Max waited, his nerves on edge, wondering what would happen next. Then, without warning, his vision went black, and he felt as though he were falling, weightless in the darkness.
Just as suddenly as the darkness had come, it vanished. Max blinked his eyes open and found himself standing in what appeared to be a massive arena. The ground beneath him was rough, sandy, and dotted with jagged stones.
Tall, dark walls encircled the space, reaching up toward a sky that was an unnatural shade of crimson. It was eerily quiet, the air thick with anticipation, as if the arena itself was waiting for something to happen.
"What the hell..." Max whispered, turning in a slow circle as he took in his surroundings. Before he could process what was going on, he noticed tiny particles of light floating in front of him.
The lights swirled and gathered, coalescing into a single point, growing brighter and more concentrated. Max shielded his eyes as the light became blinding, then abruptly winked out, revealing something standing before him.
A strange creature, almost as tall as Max, materialized from the light. It had a sinewy body covered in thick, dark scales, with limbs that looked both humanoid and grotesquely twisted.
Its eyes glowed a sinister red, and its mouth was filled with razor-sharp teeth that gleamed in the dim light of the arena. Above its head floated a red name in jagged letters: [Lesser Demon].
Max took a step back, his heart racing. "What the...?" he began to say, but before he could finish, the creature moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in an instant.
Max's body reacted on its own, muscles tensing as if to dodge, but he was too slow. Pain exploded in his abdomen as the creature's clawed hand pierced through him, driving deep into his flesh. He gasped, choking on his breath, his vision blurring with tears and agony.
A mechanical voice echoed in his ears, devoid of emotion:
[You failed. Would you like to try again?]
Max could hardly think through the pain, but he knew one thing: he didn't want to die. Gritting his teeth, he forced out a hoarse, "Yes."
The arena disappeared, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but darkness.
Then, just as quickly, Max was back in the arena, standing in the same spot, facing the same creature. It lunged at him again, and once more, he tried to move, but his body was sluggish, uncooperative. The demon's claws tore through him, and he screamed in pain as darkness claimed him.
[You failed. Would you like to try again?]
"Yes," he gasped, without hesitation. He didn't know what else to do. Each time, the same thing happened: the demon materialized, attacked, and killed him. And each time, he failed.
After what felt like the fifth or sixth attempt, the voice chimed again, but this time, it was different:
[Your agility has increased.]
[Your willpower has increased.]
Max blinked, his pain momentarily forgotten. "What does that mean?" he wondered aloud, but he had no time to think. The creature appeared again, and once more, he was caught in a deadly dance, desperately trying to survive.
He was killed again, and again, and again. Each death was swift and brutal, and yet, somehow, he felt a strange sense of progress.
His body seemed to be reacting faster, his movements a fraction sharper. The fear that gripped his heart was still there, but now there was something else, too—a stubborn determination.
After yet another death, the voice asked the familiar question:
[Would you like to try again?]
Max hesitated this time, his body trembling, his mind screaming at him to stop. He had died so many times, felt the agony of defeat again and again. What was the point? What was he even fighting for?
He thought about choosing "No," to end this madness and escape the cycle of pain.
But then, something stirred inside him—a fierce, unyielding resolve. He couldn't quite explain it, but he felt that if he gave up now, if he chose "No," he would lose something far more important than his life. It was a feeling, a gut instinct that he couldn't ignore.
Taking a deep breath, Max sighed heavily. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "Let's do this again." And then, louder, "Yes."
The arena shifted around him, the familiar shape of the lesser demon forming before his eyes. As the creature lunged forward, Max braced himself, his mind much more clear and focused than before.
"I've got to find that guy, Harry, was it," he thought to himself as he prepared for the next round. "I need him to explain all of this."
And with that, he launched himself into the fray, determined to survive.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone