"Well, that's... Something," Sarah muttered, a frown creasing her brow as she scrutinized the numbers and words meant to define her abilities. Seeing them all uniformly sat at ten felt… Wrong. A cheat.

  Shouldn't I be stronger than this? More enduring? The thought gnawed at her. What was the point of all that training, all that pushing, if they were all the same? And if the +5 bonus from her title was already factored in, that meant her base stats were even lower. The injustice of it prickled at her. Dismissing the swirling confusion in her head, Sarah forced herself to focus on her surroundings.

  She was definitely no longer in the desert. The relentless sun, the gritty sand stinging her eyes, the dry, rasping wind – all were gone. Instead, she was enclosed. The air, though warm, was thick and still, heavy with a cloying scent, something vaguely metallic and faintly sweet, like overripe fruit mixed with old pennies.

  The small, empty room offered a single exit, a decaying door that seemed to hum with a low, unseen energy. Still, it was a vast improvement over the besieged alleyway she’d just escaped. Even if it did have a distinct horror movie vibe.

  Before venturing through, Sarah stripped away the remnants of her uniform. “Uniform” was a generous term; what remained was little more than tattered rags, offering scant modesty. Even her undergarments had been consumed by the incident.

  Incident was a light term.

  After several frustrating attempts, hampered by the lack of material, she managed to fashion a makeshift wrap from the salvaged cloth, securing it as best she could. Decent enough to move on. Pressing questions clawed at her: Where was she? How had she gotten here? But as she reached for the door, a more immediate, visceral question pushed its way to the forefront of her mind: What in God's name am I going to do about my hair? It felt like a bird's nest.

  My mouth tastes like burnt coffee and regret. I need something to drink.

  The door groaned open, a sound as ancient as Carol's mum, and just as weathered. Splintered and cracked, with a few screws loose, it offered glimpses of the darkness beyond. A forced the hair on the back of Sarah's neck to stand up. The location screamed "bad horror movie." Please don't let this be some 'Wrong Turn' sequel, she thought, her hand hovering over the handle.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The hinges shrieked in protest, each creak a hammer blow against her already frayed nerves. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the oppressive silence. Gotta get out of here.

  She slipped through the narrow opening and into the corridor, her fingers trailing along the rough stone wall. The only sounds were the frantic thump-thump-thump of her heart and the scuff of her battered boots on the cold flagstones. At least it wasn't the suffocating nothingness she'd experienced after… Well, after. Ahead, where the corridor bent, shadows flickered and danced, offering a sliver of light in the oppressive gloom.

  I would have to go that way, wouldn't I?

  Watching the light flicker and dance against the bend ahead, Sarah's heart pounded in her chest. I don't like this, but it has to be done. No other options presented themselves, save for retracing her steps, a path she knew led only back to the beginning.

  A sobering realization washed over her: she was trapped, caught in the same agonizing loop as the one before her death. "Shit!" she muttered under her breath. "What sort of bullshit is this? I'm pinned down all over again."

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sarah fought to control the rising panic. I'm a soldier, she reminded herself. I can do this. She straightened her shoulders, the chill of the wall a stark contrast to the heat of her resolve. I've faced worse. I've survived worse.

  The thought gave her a flicker of strength. She focused on the light, using it as a beacon, a point of focus in the oppressive darkness. One step at a time. She tightened her grip on the wall, the rough stone a tangible anchor in the swirling chaos of her thoughts. I will not break.

  Just gotta push through the fear.

  < You have acquired the skill: Fear Resistance

  Actually getting a response, Sarah was caught off guard and stood motionless for a moment.

  "Are you fucking joking?"

  Gritting her teeth and scowling at the words displayed before her, Sarah decided to ignore them and push on. A little less worried than before, her heart had calmed somewhat, though it still beat fast enough to keep her alert. As she reached the corner, she slowly leaned out to scout the area.

  "What's that?" she whispered, immediately intrigued by what she saw.

  < Mana Crystal

  Less than twenty feet away, a well-lit octagonal room beckoned. The light Sarah had mistaken for fire pulsed from crystal torches suspended between the room's four exits. It seemed the universe, having finally decided to offer a clue, had revealed the true nature of the light. Why do you tell me some answers, but not others? she silently demanded, frustration bubbling.

  Silence. The universe ignored her and no further revelations arrived. After a moment of internal debate, Sarah hugged the wall and cautiously edged closer to the room, her footsteps tentative. Is anyone here? she thought, the question hanging unspoken in the stillness. Come on, Sarah, get a grip! she chided herself. This place is obviously deserted.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened and stepped into the room. Cautiously, she moved towards the center. The only feature besides the illuminating torches was a small, ornate fountain. Its gentle trickle drew her in.

  I wonder if that water's drinkable? The thought was accompanied by a grimace. It's probably sketchy, seeing how this place is empty, but my mouth feels like sandpaper. She hesitated. I'll just try a little. I don't want to die from dehydration. But even as she reasoned with herself, a prickle of unease ran down her spine. The silence of the room, broken only by the fountain's whisper, felt heavy with untold stories.

  A wave of relief washed over her. The foul taste was gone, and she finally had a moment to examine the source of the water she’d so hastily consumed. Something she probably should have done first. The water was crystal clear, a vibrant blue that seemed almost unnatural.

  Strange.

  Ignoring the nagging feeling that she should have been more cautious, Sarah decided her desperate thirst outweighed any potential risk. "Besides," she reasoned, "I feel fine." And with that, she began to drink deeply.

  < You have drunk from the Water of Sin. HP, MP, and Stamina recovery are increased by 500% for the next 2 hours.

  Sarah stared at the notification, her brow furrowed. Water of Sin? The name conjured images of dark rituals and forbidden magic, not refreshment. Why had she been so reckless? Yet, despite the ominous name, she felt… Fantastic. Energetic. Invigorated. "I don't feel bad," she muttered, a hint of awe in her voice. "Actually, I feel… Really fucking good. That’s some kick-ass H2O, even if it is called the Water of Sin." A wry smile touched her lips. "Maybe sin isn't so bad after all."

  As Sarah gazed down the three newly revealed corridors, their inky blackness a stark contrast to the glowing hexagonal room, a surge of determination filled her. "I'm taking one of them," she announced, striding towards the nearest wall fixture, a small, glowing orb that illuminated the junction. She grasped it firmly, intending to detach it and bring a little light into the darkness.

  The fixture, however, proved more stubborn than she anticipated. Despite her best efforts, twisting and pulling with growing frustration, it barely budged. She managed to loosen it slightly, a small victory, but the effort left her surprisingly winded. Sarah stepped back, panting, a frown creasing her brow.

  Why am I so tired all of a sudden? she wondered, her gaze drifting down to the translucent blue screen that hovered in her vision – her status. That's either a seriously strong light fixing, or I'm just weak as fuck. As she pondered the numbers displayed, she moved to the fountain, taking a long, refreshing gulp. It's got a terrible name, but damn that water tastes good! she thought wryly, the cool liquid revitalizing her slightly.

  Her eyes flicked back to the loosened light fixture. A flicker of memory sparked in her mind. Unspent points… She recalled something about them from her status screen. Is it like the games on my phone? A hopeful thought, a chance to improve her situation. Sarah refocused her attention on the translucent blue screen, willing it to expand, searching for the information she needed.

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  Name: Sarah-Jane Kemp

  - Unspent Points: 25

  Class: None

  Title: What Death?

  Skills:

  - Identify - 1

  - Fear Resistance - 1

  Unique Skills:

  - Universal Language

  - Immortality

  Status:

  Vitality: 10

  Strength: 10

  Endurance: 10

  Dexterity: 10

  Intelligence: 10

  Wisdom: 10

  Health: 200/200

  Mana: 200/200

  Stamina: 12/200

  "Okay, then,” she muttered to herself. “No time like the present to find out how this works. And my stamina…” She frowned. “That must be why I feel so exhausted. These numbers are weak if I tire that easily.”

  As her stamina slowly refilled, Sarah tentatively allocated three points to Strength. The effect was immediate. Her muscles constricted, then grew slightly, becoming firmer. The subtle change was enough to make her marvel. She flexed her arm, testing the newfound strength while she waited for her stamina to fully replenish.

  Studying her status, Sarah calculated it would take several minutes for her stamina to recover naturally. Not ideal, she thought. From a military perspective, rapid recovery and the ability to push through discomfort are crucial. She reminded herself that the Waters of Sin, whatever they were, were supposed to multiply her recovery fivefold. Hopefully, that would make a significant difference.

  Once her stamina was full, Sarah tried again to wrench the mana crystal free. This time, she managed to pry it loose. With a surge of adrenaline, she quickly allocated two more points to Strength and, with a grunt, ripped the crystal from the wall.

  “Yes!” she breathed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Then, remembering her surroundings, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Shit. Shush, me. That was loud. She glanced nervously around the silent tunnel. “Okay, now that I’ve got light, I should try another tunnel, I suppose. I can check my stats on the way.”

  ???????????

  Two tunnels, and a level in (Fear Resistance), later, Sarah was royally pissed off. Her initial worries had long since evaporated, replaced by a simmering anger.

  "What is this place supposed to be, anyway?" she muttered, the sound echoing slightly in the oppressive silence.

  The rough-hewn stone walls showed no signs of age or wear, yet the few wooden objects scattered about looked like they'd been rotting for a millennium. Both previous tunnels had led her to identical rooms: empty, dark, and filled with a creeping, unsettling atmosphere.

  "This place sucks!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing again. "At first, it was kind of creepy, like a horror movie. But now… it's like I'm trapped in my own personal, frigging prison. I might have more than one room, but there's nothing to do. And it's freezing…"

  She glanced at the tattered, burnt wraps that barely covered her skin, then her gaze drifted to the last remaining exit – the only unexplored corridor. Sitting by the stagnant fountain, she crossed her fingers. "It has to be this one, right? It has to be!"

  Her hopes weren't high as she started down the final passage. The fact that it began exactly like the others did nothing to bolster her optimism. But as she rounded the first bend, a flicker of something new ignited in her eyes, a spark of renewed determination. This time, something felt different.

  Before her stood a set of doors, exquisitely decorated. Gold filigree danced across their surfaces, swirling into elegant spirals at the top and bottom. Crimson runes, glowing softly, ran down the center of each. Sarah didn't understand the runes, nor could she imagine what lay beyond, or if it was safe. But the desperate hope that they led outside pulsed within her.

  She reached out, her hand hovering just before the cool surface of the door, then hesitated. A wave of uncertainty washed over her, and she pulled back. Staring at the intricate gold patterns, she saw words shimmer into existence, etched into the air even though she wasn't touching the door:

  < The price for entrance is expensive. Will you pay it?

  "What do I have to pay with?" she whispered, the question echoing in the sudden silence. She had no money, no cards, nothing of material value. I'm going to be so screwed when I get out of here, she thought, a flicker of panic rising. But the thought was fleeting. She had no choice. Taking a deep breath, Sarah placed both hands on the ornate doors.

  < The price for entrance is expensive, can you pay it?

  Sarah’s brow furrowed. The subtle shift in phrasing from the initial question hadn’t escaped her notice. “What’s the price?” she asked, a prickle of unease crawling up her spine. Talking to a door felt absurd, something relegated to the realm of movies, yet here she was.

  < Death.

  The single, stark word hung in the air, a chilling reminder of her predicament. She still hadn't found a bathroom, a fact that added a layer of discomfort to her growing anxiety.

  “How am I supposed to get in if I have to die to do that?” she countered, desperate for some semblance of logic. The curt reply offered no solace.

  < That is the one rule.

  Well, that’s just great, Sarah thought, frustration bubbling. The worst and most ridiculous rule I’ve ever heard.

  She weighed her limited options. Starvation loomed as a distinct possibility; her exploration of this strange prison had yielded neither food nor any exit besides the ominous door. But death by door? That defied comprehension.

  Yet, a flicker of hope ignited within her. The burning need to escape, coupled with the bizarre logic of her situation, sparked a train of thought. If the events so far were anything to go by, perhaps… Perhaps she already possessed the means to move forward. A dangerous idea began to form in her mind, a gamble based on the absurd rules of this impossible place.

  "That skill had better damn well work as advertised," she muttered, the words barely a whisper in the oppressive silence. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else here. Resignation settled over her like a shroud. "I really, really don't want to do this."

  Sarah reread the description of the (Immortality) skill, her eyes tracing the familiar words for perhaps the hundredth time. With trembling hands, she set her spawn point directly in front of the ancient, imposing door. The weight of what she was about to do pressed down on her, a physical manifestation of fear.

  The price of death was not something to be trifled with, not something so easily dismissed. Even with the skill active, a cold dread coiled in her stomach. For someone usually so confident, it had been an unsettling morning.

  Her hand, hesitant at first, reached out and touched the door. Unlike everything else in this desolate place, the wooden surface was untouched by rot. The contact, however slight, was enough. Sarah exhaled, a breath she hadn't realized she was holding trapped in her chest.

  < You have heard the price. The only rule. Will you still pay?

  In a way, she thought, I suppose I already died. On top of that grenade. Trying to give Miller a chance to see his daughter, to give the others a second chance. A flicker of doubt crept in. This… This could all be some nonsensical, fucked-up hallucination. A construct of my dying mind.

  Probably. The thought offered little comfort. The cold certainty of the door, the tangible weight of her fear, argued otherwise. She pushed the door open.

  "I suppose so," Sarah replied, as casually as if asked about catching a movie. The word was barely out of her mouth when a searing agony ripped through her, every nerve ending screaming in protest. It felt like her body was being electrocuted from the inside out, red lightning erupting from every pore, charring her skin a sickening black. Her hair ignited, the flames licking at her scalp before melting away into wisps of smoke that billowed around her collapsing form.

  What felt like an eternity of torment was over in less than five seconds. Sarah's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, the abrupt stillness marking the premature end of her second life. She’d been right, at least about one thing: it was quicker than starvation.

  < You have acquired the skill: Lightning Resistance.

  < You have been awarded a new title: The Unkillable

  [The Unkillable]

  - You have died again in an act of unknown foolery, yet Fate, in its infinite amusement, has seen fit to grant you another reprieve. +5 to all stats. You have earned a Unique Skill: Second Chance.

  (Second Chance)

  - When faced with imminent death (again, apparently), your perception of time will slow down for five seconds. This skill can only be used once per day. Try not to waste it. You'll probably need it.

  Unbeknownst to Sarah, as her lifeless form lay sprawled on the ground, a brilliant white light erupted from within her. The aura, a manifestation of her Immortality, enveloped her entirely, mending the horrific damage inflicted just moments before. The light receded, disappearing back into her as seamlessly as it had appeared. Later, when Sarah finally got around to reading the skill's description, she would go on to complain about injustice once again.

  The rasp of wood against stone echoed through the chamber as Sarah’s newly-revived body snapped upright with alarming speed.

  “Ugh, that was foul!” she gagged, the phantom taste of burnt tongue still lingering. She shuddered, sticking her tongue out in disgust. The sight of the open door was a beacon of salvation, even if it had come at the cost of her life.

  “Seriously, that was the rule? Total bullshit!” she muttered, shaking her head. “But hey,” her expression brightened, a grin spreading across her face. “Immortality! Yes! That’s what I’m talking about! I can’t believe I didn’t… Well, I did die, and it definitely wasn’t fun, but I came back! How awesome is that?”

  Peering into the chamber beyond, Sarah spotted a crackling fireplace. Someone was inside! A surge of adrenaline propelled her to her feet, but as she moved forward, the massive doors began to grind shut with alarming speed. The thunderous clang threatened to burst her eardrums. Realizing she’d been duped by a talking door of all things, Sarah reacted instinctively. She quickly set her spawn point directly in front of the hearth, just before the doors slammed shut with a resounding boom.

  A minute ticked by, the ringing in her ears slowly fading. The golden patterns etched on the door’s surface writhed and shifted, coalescing into a grotesque face.

  "Hahaha," the door boomed, its lips flapping out of sync with the words, like a badly dubbed film. "I confess, I didn't expect such convenient foolishness. But I'll take any power I can get these days. Times are tough. Now, begone, cursed creature. I've no further use for you… Unless you’re eager for another demise?"

  Stupid door, Sarah thought, a flicker of anger tightening her jaw. We’ll see who’s laughing when I get back.