Madness Combat Abecedarian

by R. U. Spencer

The Player paid the highest price to save Nevada from the MADNESS and joined himself with the Nowhere. But his story is far from over, as he awakens in a strange time and place. He didn't choose to be here, but he'll make the best of it. In a world with werewolves, witches, succubus, and vampires, living hidden in human society, he'll show them all that he's worse. (Noob Origin)

2. Chapter 2

This story is rated M for violence, swearing, epic fight scenes, and other mature themes. It's a Madness Combat crossover. What do you expect?

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Chapter II: Far From Home

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"I used to think I was afraid of being lost, but then I realized I was afraid of who might find me."

- Nenia Campbell, Raise the Blood

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Somewhere in Nevada...

Then.

---

The Noob was relieved to see the lights on as he went down the ramp to re-enter the facility. With the power fully restored and running through the building, he no longer needed the foul-smelling flashlight, so he stashed it in his right pocket. The proper lighting allowed him to finally see the interior clearly.

It was still terrible.

There was no sugarcoating it. The place still looked like a dump.

In the darkness, he hadn't been able to see the full extent of the facility's trashy state, but now, with the lights on, he could see how awful it was. Somehow, there was even more garbage than there was before. It was like the dark kept it all hidden.

Maybe he was better off with the lights off.

It would take days to clean the entire place up. The Noob would have to find a dumpster, get garbage bags, get cleaning products, find what days accepted regular garbage and recycling, get rid of the mold and stuff, etc.

He didn't want to bitch about it, but he couldn't help it. Wouldn't you complain and cry, "fuck this," if you saw how much literal garbage you had to clean up?

Still, he had a job to do. He still had to turn this building into something, or at the very least look presentable, so he might as well get it done.

First, he had to make sure that bum from earlier, the one who gave him the flashlight, actually left when he told him to. A part of Russell felt guilty for telling the Squatter to go even though this place was probably the only home he could find and had nowhere else to go, and, to reiterate, he did help him out by giving him the flashlight. He didn't want to beat again or kill the guy to leave, but if it came to it, screw it.

It was ironic. Russell felt guilty about kicking a bum out of his only home, yet he didn't feel an ounce of regret for killing the other homeless people in the facility. He should have felt some remorse for taking multiple lives, but he didn't.

"The fuck is wrong with me?" He asked himself, trudging back the way he came on his march to the roof.

He passed by the notable rooms he saw on the way up, still in the same awful state they were when they were in the dark, but now the lights were on. The homeless bodies stayed in the same places and positions where he had left them, just more things for him to clean up. Russell found himself in the room with the strange machine in the middle. He had no idea what it was and had to forcefully pull himself away to stop staring at it further in curiosity. He soon found himself in the hub room, then out the automatic sliding doors leading him to the brightly lit lobby.

Russell peered over the second landing and found the Squatter hadn't left as he told him to. The bum sat on the large desk next to the building's exit, kicking his legs out of boredom. It was as if he was waiting for the Noob to come back.

"Didn't I tell you to leave?" He said to the bum.

The Squatter turned his head towards the voice. "Oh, hey! You did it," he replied as Russell walked down the slopes to properly talk to him. "It looks like you got the power on, chief. Nice work. Those lowlifes upstairs give you any guff?"

"N-No, I'm good, thanks. But why are you still here? I told you to get out," said the Noob, pointing at the metal exit. "Look, I need to turn this shithole into something good-looking, and I can't do it while you're still here."

"Shithole?" The Squatter said in a semi-offended tone. "It isn't all that bad, sport. Sure, it's a bit of a fixer-upper, but once you've gotten the muddy, grimy smears off of just about every surface in this place, you'll take a real shining to it. Just wait and see."

He pinched the bridge of his nose before lowering his hand. He really didn't want to beat this guy up and toss his unconscious body outside, but it looked like it was going that way.

"Okay, look, unless you can help me out here, can you just get out? I'm sorry to kick you out of your own home, but please get the fuck out unless you can, I don't know, be useful and help clean this crap up?"

The Squatter's face perked up. "You offering me a job, chief? Because it just so happens that I'm freshly back on the market. And I'm not too overqualified to do a little cleanup around this joint." The Squatter moved past Russell and started walking up the ramp. He was halfway up when he turned to look back at him. "In fact, bear with me a minute. Lemme show you something."

"Where are you going?" He questioned.

"Follow me!" Said the bum. "I got something you'll like."

The bum quickly ran around the landing and up the second ramp before heading inside the hub room. Russell stared at the metal door and walked after him, wondering what the bum was planning.

When the doors parted, he found the Squatter standing beside the large desk in the middle of the hub. The Squatter kicked one of the bodies of the other bums before noticing the Noob enter.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't ride into Nevada Central unless you were looking to make some serious dosh. Am I right?"

"The heck is dosh?" He questioned.

"Money." The Squatter answered. "It's what the Brits call it over there."

"Ah," he nodded in understanding. "Well... yes and no," Russell replied with a so-so gesture. "I need money, make no mistake... well, we ALL need money to keep a roof over our heads, not starve, and other stuff, but that's not the point. I need to turn all of this..." He made a sweeping motion with his right hand "...into, and I quote, "a paramilitary enterprise," and I'm basically doing it without a roadmap."

"Well, you're obviously going to need cash in hand to do it... as well as a few capable appointees to run a place this size." Said the bum. "It just so happens I used to be in upper management. Plus, I know a few guys. We could get this place rolling in no time."

The Noob nodded in understanding but realized what the bum had said. "Wait, you were in upper management?" He asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I told you. I used to run a power station outside Nexus City. I was good at it, too. A big-time top-earner. A lot of people would've killed to have my position." The Squatter replied, nodding and placing his fists on his hips with little pride.

"Really? What was the pay like?" Russell asked, slightly interested.

"Eh, it was weird." The bum said, scratching his crusty and dirtied hair under his hat. "You see, we don't get paid regular currency in Nexus City. Instead, they gave us these things they called Boon Tokens that we could trade for stuff. It was almost like the bartering system over there."

The Noob gave a puzzled look. "That is pretty weird. So what happened?"

"A story as old as time: I got fired," the Squatter said simply with a shrug.

"Ah," Russell nodded. He should've expected that. A part of him hoped it was something else. Maybe he got in trouble with the law, or he was caught embezzling or something. But nope. He just got fired. "What happened?"

"Ugh..." The Squatter groaned, recalling why he and many others decided to give Nexus Core the finger. "There were a lot of huge changes happening at my workplace. I didn't like 'em, and neither did some of the guys. Apparently, the higher-ups thought one guy could do all of our jobs. One guy!" The bum held up a pointed finger. "And when we tried to complain, they just said it was 'all for the journey to Divergence.' Yeah, divergence, my butt!" He sighed in frustration. "Eventually, the day came, and that guy, Rick? Rich, I think, took our jobs. I headed to Nevada Central, where they respect an honest day's work and pay you for it, too." The bum twirled his finger around. "But, as you can see, it hasn't been going great."

"Oh... shit," Russell said, starting to feel bad for the bum again. "So what about all these "Boon Tokens" you've got? Were they worth something outside your city?"

"As a matter of fact, they were. Apparently, they were worth a lot of money. You know, regular money. Cash," he explained.

"Like, how much are we talking?"

"Like a lot-lot. So much money, it would make your head spin." The bum waved his arms in a circle to emphasize his point. "I asked a guy at the First Nevadean Matter Bank, and he told me they're more valuable than gold."

Russell's eyes widened a little. "Seriously?"

The Squatter chuckled. "Yeah."

"So, what happened to your Boon Tokens?" the Noob asked. "Did you trade them for regular money?"

"Nah," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I left my Boon Tokens in Nexus City. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. I wanted to cut off all ties I had with the Core. Start fresh, you know? I even told myself, "The Core can keep their crummy coins."" The Squatter sighed regretfully. "Now, I really wish I had brought one with me."

"I bet." The Noob said. "I mean, at least you'd have like a safety cushion or something to help you on your feet. Am I right?"

"Yep. But enough about me," the Squatter said, changing the subject. "I've got something that might just help you out in one of the other rooms. Trust me, you're gonna love this, chief. Follow me." The bum started walking towards the way he had taken earlier and gestured for him to come along.

He watched as the hobo walked through the doorway, the metal door slamming shut behind him. He followed at his own pace, recalling that strange room they had passed before. They were taking the same, and only, route to get there. Why did he have a feeling he already knew where they were heading?

The moment the door slid up, he saw the hobo standing next to the corpse of the Ruffian he had killed. The hobo tilted his head and sniffed the air, immediately looking disgusted. "Oof, what's that smell?"

"What?" The Noob also tipped his head and sniffed, but he smelled nothing. "I don't smell anything. Maybe it's that guy?" He pointed to the Ruffian's corpse.

"Maybe," the bum said, leaning over to the Ruffian's body and sniffing quickly. His nose wrinkled, and his eyes squinted. He promptly leaned back. "Hmm. We'll worry about that later. Come on. We're almost there." He walked past the body and onto the next floor.

Russell followed, stepping through a small puddle of blood leaking from the corpse. "Ugh, great," he said, lifting one of his boots. "You're lucky you're already dead." He pointed at the corpse before moving to the next room, leaving bloody footprints behind.

When he entered, he saw the bum standing by the massive, strange machine in the middle of the room. It seemed his suspicions were correct. As he walked down the walkway towards them, a growing curiosity surged within him, wondering what the machine was. Judging by the giddy expression on the homeless guy's face, it looked like he was finally about to get an answer.

"Here it is! I knew this old scrap-can would come in handy." The Squatter rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he eyed the large device.

Russell walked over, carefully avoiding the garbage now visible in the light. He stood next to a tent that likely belonged to another homeless person. He didn't know if the resident was still inside, and the Noob didn't want to find out.

"Believe it or not, I saw this thing on my way up to the roof, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. What is it?" He asked, also eyeing the machine.

"This? This, my friend, is a state-of-the-art Nexus Core Sleepwalker Dream Assimilation Bed!" The bum announced with the enthusiasm of revealing something monumental. "Trains a know-nothing civilian into a killing machine in record time."

Russell glanced at the homeless guy, then back to the machine. Curiosity piqued, he approached the hatch and ran his hand over its surface. As Russell did, a layer of dust and dirt clung to his fingers, evidence of the machine's long period of disuse. He wiped his hand on his pants.

"How does it work?" He asked.

"I'm glad you asked," the bum said, turning to the red-colored lever next to the hatch door of the Sleepwalker Bed. "Let's feed this puppy some juice, and you'll see for yourself."

He slammed down the switch, and the entire room sprang to life. Sparks flew, and lights and nearby computer screens flickered on with a light blue hue as power coursed through the room and into the Sleepwalker Bed. A bright glowing light emanated from the back of the machine, and the large hatch in front of Russell flipped open. Steam hissed out of the open door, revealing a compartment large enough to fit a person. The compartment was bathed in the same light blue glow from a screen at the back of the hatch.

"Woah," Russell muttered, eyes wide.

"Go on, chief," the homeless guy said, gesturing toward the open device as if it were inviting Russell to step inside. "Give 'er a whirl."

Russell stared at the box, feeling a mix of concern and interest. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pushing aside any lingering worries.

"Thanks... um... what's your name?"

"Bossman. The name's Bossman, kid." The bum finally introduced himself. "What's yours?"

"Russell... I think."

"You think?"

"I... don't know how to explain it. I can't remember shit. I think I have temporary amnesia."

"Sounds like me on a bender," Bossman chuckled. "Welp, enjoy yourself in there."

He walked up to the open box and stepped in. Russell turned around and carefully lowered himself inside, mindful of the pipes and wires around the compartment, which were probably integral to the machine. As he lay down inside the chamber, he realized he was lying on cold metal. There was no cushion or bedding to make him more cozy. It felt strange and understandably uncomfortable.

More steam shot out of the machine, causing him to close his eyes reflexively. When he opened them, he saw the hatch door lowering itself and slamming shut with a loud clunk. The bright glow of the screen was directly in front of him, making him squint and close his eyes again from the intensity of the light.

"Alright," Russell called out from within. "so how is this supposed to-?"

He blinked.

---

"Alright. Send out the test subject."

Russell was walking down a corridor and staring at a large metal door. His mind and sight shifted and twisted, and his head got hit with vertigo that reminded him of the one he went through during his bus ride. The door opened, and before the Noob knew it, Russell found himself walking through right as the headache faded. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, his sight stabilizing as light beat down on him.

He found himself in a new area, a large rectangular room. Several metal barrels were scattered around, and two large hanging lights illuminated the space. There were also what looked like small circles built into the floor. What they were, he had no idea.

Turning around, he saw two large windows revealing several people watching him. The glass had a strange honeycomb-like design that slightly warped the view, but he could still make out the figures on the other side. Some appeared to be scientists, wearing goggles and lab coats. Others looked like soldiers dressed in red and black with glowing red visors, appearing far more threatening than the scientists.

"Welcome to Project Nexus, Test Subject 1v02P_6," greeted the man closest to the window, the Technician. "Today, you'll be helping us to move combat science forward by engaging in a controlled battle experiment."

"Uh... okay," Russell replied, still trying to grasp what was happening. Though it did make sense what this place was now. It was a testing area, like the ones you see in media, like horror games, sci-fi comics, or TV shows.

Still, how did he get here? Moments ago, he was in a stuffy metal box, and now he found himself in this strange testing pen. Maybe this was what Bossman had mentioned. This must be the Sleepwalker Bed at work.

"In a moment, we'll send in opponents of escalating difficulty for you to face. Our technicians will keep you alive, so don't be afraid to go all out," the Technician explained. "Do you understand?"

"I guess so. Maybe?"

"Excellent. We'll start you off with something manageable," the Technician continued. "The button lets us know you're ready to proceed. Best of luck."

The Noob looked around for what the Technician was talking about. It didn't take him long to find the button. It was glowing green, and next to it was a sign that read, "Warning. Press to Start" in thick, bold letters. He stared at the button, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and pressed it without a second thought.

"Here we go," he said in a slightly sing-song tone, realizing he rang the dinner bell.

One of the circles in the ground lit up, and the green-colored light it emitted formed a person. It looked humanoid, with a head, body, and limbs of simple geometric shapes. It was also see-through with a wireframe style, further emphasizing its digital look.

Russell raised his hands for a fight, but the other emitters in the room also activated, making more of these Training Buddies, one to the left, right, and even behind him.

He decided to target the Training Buddy at the front and swung his left fist onto the Training Buddy's shoulder. Immediately following up with a spinning right hook, he aimed for the buddy's face. To his surprise, the Training Buddy's body flew into the air before it exploded in a burst of green pixels and bits, showering the area with digital debris.

"Importing aggression," croaked the Training Buddy behind him, its voice hoarse and glitchy like an old computer.

Russell decided to take on that one next. He spun around and delivered a hard left punch to the buddy's forehead, followed by a downward right fist to its head. Like the first one, the Training Buddy's body floated in the air as if in zero gravity before exploding into a shower of green bits.

From the corner of his right eye, he saw another buddy approaching. He turned and delivered a right backhand to the artificial fighter, followed by a chop to its left shoulder. As he tried to follow up with a downward left swing, the buddy's body floated away and exploded into green bits, just like the others.

He ran to the final Training Buddy and gave a powerful punch to its right side. Following up with a spinning right punch to the face, he finished the hologram off. He watched as the buddy's body flew up and hit the ceiling, exploding into green bits upon impact.

He looked around to see if any more Training Buddies were coming, but to his surprise, there weren't any. He glanced at the emitters on the ground, expecting them to spawn more fake fighters, but they remained inactive.

"That's enough for now. See you tomorrow, Subject 1v02P_6," the Technician announced.

Russell lowered his arms to his sides. "Really?" He questioned. "That's it? What do I do now-?"

He blinked.

---

Russell opened his eyes, greeted by the bright blue interior light of the Sleepwalker Bed hatch door. The sudden glare hurt, causing him to shut his eyes again and turn his head away. "Argh, shit!"

Despite the somewhat cramped space, he raised his right arm to cover his face, shielding himself from the light. Blinking from behind his forearm, he soon realized he was back inside the Sleepwalker Bed. "Hello?" Glancing around the metal confines, he hit the hatch with his raised hand several times. The door slowly flipped open as steam shot out from the machine.

He sat up, blinking a few more times as the pain in his eyes subsided and his vision cleared. Bossman was still in the same spot, sweeping the floor with a broom. Nearby, there was a training dummy like the ones boxers used, with a red painted "X" on its head and armless torso.

Russell slowly and carefully got to his feet and moved from the Sleepwalker Bed. Bossman lifted his head, finally noticing him emerge.

"Ah, you're back," Bossman said with a grin. "How was it?"

"Weird," Russell replied. "It seemed so real in there. It felt like I was in another place, and I could feel my fists hitting those training dummies like I was actually fighting someone."

"Pretty groovy, don't you think? I swiped it when the Nexus Core canned me," Bossman revealed with a chuckle.

"Well, yeah, it is pretty cool," Russell admitted, glancing at the machine and pointing at it. "But why show me this? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did. It's pretty amazing, but how is this box going to help me run this place?"

"You've gotta be the person to lead, Russell," Bossman said, resting his arm on the broom and leaning on it slightly. "This bed is what gets you there. If you want to command an army, you need to command respect first."

Russell looked thoughtfully at the Sleepwalker Bed.

"Don't get me wrong," Bossman continued, "you're pretty good in a fight. You took out those hoodlums without breaking a sweat. But there are worse things in Nevada than a bunch of bums. Not including me, of course. I have a job now," he added with a chuckle. He then stood beside Russell, pointing at the machine.

"The point is if you're going to survive against all the bandits, big bad organizations, get respect and loyalty from people who'll follow you, and turn this place into a paramilitary empire, what better way to do it than becoming an ass-kicking killing machine with this thing?" Bossman said, his tone turning deep. "This bed isn't just for training. It's for transforming. It can help you become the leader this place needs." He coughed, clearing his throat. "Oof, sorry. I don't know what happened with my voice there."

As Bossman turned away to cough, Russell's eyes remained fixed on the Sleepwalker Bed. Bossman had brought up some good points. Realistically, now that Russell thought about it, he would have probably had to hire people to help him sooner or later.

The Noob didn't know if he had a deadline to make the building suitable for his organization, but it probably would have taken him weeks to do it by himself. He wasn't sure how much time Doc gave him to do it, and if he was counting Bossman, that made only the two of them responsible for turning this trash heap into something useful.

Russell pondered the situation.

They needed more hands on deck to get this place up and running. The Sleepwalker Bed wasn't just a training tool. It was a shortcut to becoming the leader he needed to be. Hiring help was inevitable, but having the skills to lead and inspire respect was crucial. If they were going to survive whatever Nevada threw at them and transform this place into an empire, they needed every advantage they could get.

"Alright, I understand," Russell said, looking at the Sleepwalker Bed. "So, what should I do now? Just keep using this thing?"

"Yeah, you should," Bossman replied. "As for our money problem, don't worry. I know a first-rate bloke who can get you running missions for cash, but he's... indisposed at the moment."

"Indisposed how?" Russell asked

"Honestly, I got no idea where he is, but I have a few leads. Just focus on training up for now. You're gonna need some major skills if we're gonna recover my guy. Just in case," Bossman said, returning to his sweeping. He nodded towards the training dummy to the side. "I set up a Training Dummy for you to hone your abilities with all that combat experience you'll be gaining."

"Oooh, so that's why it's there. Thanks," Russell said, appreciating the foresight. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, you see that giant chest? It's full of crap you might need," Bossman motioned towards a big metal trunk next to the Sleepwalker Bed, in front of the switch that turned the thing on. The Noob had almost missed it because it blended so well with the rest of the machine, having the same colored steel and all.

He quickly walked to the chest and opened it to see what goodies he could use. He wanted to see what was inside and was eager to do so despite not showing it on his face. The lid was a bit hefty, but he got it open nonetheless. When he opened the chest, it felt like he was opening buried treasure. Russell expected to see big, powerful weapons like a shotgun, a rifle, a machete, or a few grenades, things that would help speed up his job and make things easier.

What he saw wasn't that.

Three things, just three, were inside the large chest that could fit a person inside it. He got a 9mm pistol, a wooden board with several nails hammered in with the opposite end chipped off to make a makeshift handle, and a pile of rocks. A pile of rocks with rugged, circular stones that were as big as his palm.

"Are you serious?" Russell said, holding up the Basic Nevadean 9mm Parabellum pistol.

"What?" Bossman replied, turning to face Russell.

Russell looked at the former hobo, holding the pistol in one hand and the board in the other. "Are you serious?" he repeated.

"Hey, that's all I could find while you were inside," Bossman said with a shrug.

"Really? There was nothing else?" The Noob questioned almost incredulously.

Bossman raised his hands defensively. "I don't know what to tell ya, man. That's all I got. If I found anything better, I would've put it there. You gotta make do with what ya have, am I right?"

Russell looked at the two weapons in his hands and the pile of stones still in the chest. He sighed, realizing Bossman had a point. Rome wasn't built in a day, and he would have to start somewhere, no matter how humble his beginnings.

"Alright, whatever," Russell said, resigning himself. He equipped all three items, a bit miffed, but decided to make the best of what he had. The Noob placed the 9mm pistol in his left pocket, making sure the safety was on to avoid any accidental discharge. He put the 9mm in his left pocket, safety on so he didn't accidentally shoot himself, the board on his back, and the rocks, which were a lot, in his right pocket.

"We'll talk later after you've cleared the... uh... Sleepwalker Tutorial. Okay, chief?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks again," Russell said, stepping back inside the Sleepwalker Bed, ready to continue training.

"Ah! Wait! One more thing!" Bossman called out. Russell was already seated with one of his arms reaching up to pull down the bed's hatch. "Uuuuuhhh... what was it again?" Bossman snapped his fingers a few times as he tried to remember. "Ah, right, on the right side, there's a screen to check your progress, and a difficulty setting on the bed. You know, to see how far you're doing, and if you're having trouble in there, you can lower the difficulty of the enemies. Or if you want a challenge, you can set it higher."

He stood up and stepped out of the Sleepwalker Bed again. Walking over to the outside of the machine, he noticed a vertical bar next to a screen with four buttons, each representing different difficulty settings.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the screen because its size made it stand out. It read "Sleepwalker Training Program" in bright white letters, and below that, "Stage Progress." Listed were Wave 1, Wave 2, and, curiously, Wave 5. Wave 2 was blinking, indicating that it was the wave he was currently on.

"Yo, Bossman," Russell called out. The middle-aged man stopped sweeping and looked up. "Why does this thing skip to Wave 5?"

"Oh, that? That's the checkpoint," Bossman replied.

"Checkpoint?" Russell asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," Bossman confirmed. "After you do a bunch of waves, you get a little "break," so to speak. It's like a save spot, so you don't lose your progress and have to start from the beginning again. You're on Wave 2, right? After three more rounds, the machine will save your progress, and when you go back in, you'll start from that point."

"Oh, okay," Russell nodded in understanding. "That's handy."

"It is," Bossman agreed. "But that's if you don't mess up. If you fail a round or leave it too early, all bets are off. You lose all your progress, and you have to start from the beginning."

The Noob nodded. "Wait a minute, shouldn't it be that if you mess up, you try again at the checkpoint? Not at the very start? Why is it like that?"

"Don't ask me," Bossman shrugged, "I'm not the one who made this thing. I just stole it."

Russell then turned his attention to the vertical bar and the buttons. Each button had an icon: a baby head with a pacifier and bonnet, a regular person, the same person but with cuts and a bandana, and a skull. The current setting, which depicted a regular-looking person, was already chosen and lit up light blue.

Curious, Russell clicked the other buttons to see what they meant. The easiest difficulty, represented by the baby icon, lit up green and read "Tourist" on the small screen.

"Tourist? Really?" Russell muttered, feeling slightly mocked by the machine.

He moved to the following setting, the one he was currently on. It read "Normal," simple enough.

The third difficulty, depicted by the post-apocalyptic face, lit up orange and read "Tough." That was likely the "Hard" setting.

Finally, he pressed the last button, represented by the skull icon. It lit up bright red and read "Madness." By deduction, this was the most challenging setting on the Sleepwalker Bed.

"Madness, huh?" Russell mused.

"Yeah, Madness is no joke," Bossman said, leaning on his broom. "But you don't need to worry about that right now. Just focus on making it through the current waves. Get the hang of things before ramping up the difficulty. But hey, you do you."

Russell weighed his options for a moment. He knew he needed to train hard to prepare for what was to come, but he also wanted to make steady progress without overwhelming himself right away. The Noob glanced back at the "Normal" setting, deciding to continue training at this level. Once he had mastered it, he could always ramp up the difficulty to push his limits further.

Content with his decision, Russell took a deep breath and returned to the Sleepwalker Bed.

"Alright, back in I go," he said. He lay on the metal floor of the bed as the hatch slowly slammed shut and closed his eyelids.

---

"Welcome back, 1v02P_6. Let's continue the experiment," the Technician's voice echoed.

Russell opened his eyes and stepped through the metal doorway again as it sealed behind him. His vision warped and twisted just like before, accompanied by the familiar sensation of vertigo. This time, however, it didn't make him sick, and there was no headache.

"Maybe I'm getting used to it," he thought.

He was back in the digital training room, everything appearing as it had before, the barrels, the emitters, and the observers behind the glass. Their presence was a constant reminder of the controlled environment he was in, but it no longer unnerved him as much. Granted, they weren't real, per se, but it was still creepy.

"Please note that you may leave at any time," the Technician's voice continued, "but if you quit a wave before it has finished, we will be forced to restart your progress from the beginning, just as if you had died. However, leaving between waves will only reset you back to your last checkpoint. Makes sense? Let's begin."

Russell understood the Technician's words. It echoed what Doc had told him earlier but with more detail. "So I can leave between rounds without losing my progress? That's cool," he thought. "But how do I leave? Do I go out the door?"

He walked over to the metal door that had brought him into this training room. The light above the frame was off and didn't automatically open as he approached. Russell scratched his head, confused by the lack of response and how he would leave if he wanted to.

He lifted his hand, and his knuckles brushed against something wooden strapped to his back. His eyes widened as he remembered the wooden board with nails he had brought. He reached over and felt the pseudo-handle of the board. Then he noticed the weight in his pockets. Patting them, he felt the familiar shape of the curved stones and the pistol inside.

Curious, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the 9mm parabellum, staring at it with wide eyes.

"Oh, shit, I can bring stuff in here with me?" he chuckled in astonishment. "That's cool."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit excited. The ability to bring items into the Sleepwalker Bed training program opened up a world of possibilities. He could experiment with different weapons, test new techniques, and prepare for whatever Nevada threw. But first, he needed to clear out the waves. The Noob looked up at the green button to start the round. Again, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then, with hard eyes, he walked over and slammed the button, beginning the round.

Three emitters lit up, one in the middle and one on opposite ends of the room. They surged with green energy, materializing and spitting out VR Training Buddy V1.0s. The holographic fighters made an immediate beeline for the Noob, who quickly scanned the room, assessing his options.

"Alright, here we go again," he muttered, gripping the pistol tightly in his right hand while supporting it with his left.

He decided to take out the buddy on the left first. He aimed his pistol at its chest and fired twice, the shots hitting their mark and causing the buddy to float briefly before disintegrating.

Without wasting time, he moved past the barrels and spun around to target the middle buddy. Two shots later, nailing it in the chest and the gut, it too floated and vanished.

Just then, two more Training Buddy V1.0 immediately formed to take their place.

He quickly shot at the neck of one that had just appeared, killing it instantly but accidentally firing a second shot out of habit, wasting a bullet. "Oh, damn it!"

Spinning around, he fired twice at another buddy charging at him, hitting it in the stomach and making it disappear.

Three more buddies appeared. Two Training Buddy V1.0s charged at him, but the third was different. This one was yellow and armed with a metal baseball bat.

Instead of retreating, he advanced. He fired his 9mm at one of the green buddies, hitting it in the chest and belly before focusing on the VR Training Buddy V2.0. The V2.0 Buddy ran at him, bat ready to swing, but the Noob fired a shot at its shoulder, making it back off momentarily.

Russell moved backward, firing another shot at the V2.0's back. Undeterred, the V2.0 Buddy charged at him again. Before it could swing, Russell fired a point-blank shot to the chest, killing it but also expending the last bullet in his pistol, which slid back with a loud click.

"Oh, shit," he muttered.

As if on cue, two more V1.0 Buddies appeared from the emitters. Russell ran back and threw his empty gun at one of the buddies but missed and hit a metal barrel instead.

Two V1.0s ran up to him, and he responded with an uppercut to one of their faces, followed by another slam in the same spot to finish it off. He then delivered a heavy hit to the other one's gut, making it disappear as well, leaving one final V1.0 Buddy to fight.

He swung a downward left fist at the remaining V1.0 and followed up with a right hook to finish it off.

Wave 2 was over.

"Oof, wow..." Russell sighed, rubbing his hands together and shaking them out. It was still strange hitting these training buddies. They weren't real, but it felt like he was hitting actual flesh despite them being holographic. This whole place was surreal, especially considering it was all taking place in his head. He had no idea how this machine worked, but he decided not to overthink it.

Choosing to start the next round, he walked to the button next to the entry door. But then he noticed something unusual: the metal bat the V2.0 Buddy had wielded was still on the floor. He had expected it to disappear along with the holographic buddy, but there it was, lying on the metal floor.

He picked up the bat, feeling its dark grey grip with both hands. It had a good weight, and his left hand was below his right. He gave it a couple of practice swings, feeling the heft and balance of the weapon.

"Hmm..." Russell murmured. He took out the wooden board with nails from his back and compared the two weapons, giving each a little shake as he considered which one to use for the next round.

The answer was obvious: the bat.

He put the wooden board back behind him and gripped the bat firmly in his right hand. He walked over and slammed the green button to start Wave 3. As he did, two small screens above the viewing glass flickered on. The top screen read "Now Serving," and the bottom screen switched from Wave 2 to Wave 3.

"Alright, let's get it on!" He said with his voice raised.

He scanned the room, anticipating where the next wave of Training Buddies would emerge. The two emitters in the center lit up, starting to materialize V1.0s. Positioned in front of one of them, Russell was ready.

As the first V1.0 materialized, he swung the bat downwards with both hands, connecting with the buddy's right temple. Without hesitation, he raised the bat over his shoulder and swung it hard across the buddy's face, sending it flying as it disintegrated into pixels.

Another V1.0 began to form from the emitter, quickly followed by a second. Russell swung the bat down on the first buddy's head, stunning it. Seeing an opening, he shoved the hologram back, grabbed the bat with both hands and swung hard like he was hitting a baseball. The training buddy flew across the room, and Russell couldn't resist giving it a salute and yelling, "Homerun!"

Several more V1.0s rose from both sides of the room, and two more climbed out in front of him. He stepped back to avoid a swing from one of them, then retaliated with a downward bonk to the head. He quickly dispatched that V1.0 and turned to strike another on the head. He followed with a powerful slam into its shoulder, taking it out. Spinning around, he delivered another downward swing to an approaching V1.0, then stepped forward and swung across, killing it and stunning another. Like before, he shoved the holographic fighter back and hit it with a mighty swing, sending it flying.

Three more Training Buddies appeared. One of them was a V2.0 wielding a metal pipe. They immediately charged at him. Russell retreated, quickly digging into his pockets for one of the rocks. Spinning around, he lobbed it at one of the green fighters, nailing it square in the forehead and taking it out as it disintegrated.

Russell ran forward and threw another rock, this time at the V2.0. The V2.0 seemed more competent than its counterparts, raising its pipe to block the thrown stone. Now within striking range, Russell slammed his bat against the V2.0's head, then continued with a horizontal swing that sent it crashing across the room.

He soon found himself surrounded. The surviving V1.0 of the trio approached while the emitter next to him activated, spewing out another Training Buddy. As if that wasn't bad enough, another V2.0 armed with a pipe emerged, and he wasn't alone. It came along with a new bright orange buddy wielding a pistol.

A VR Training Buddy V3.0.

His eyes widened when he saw the pistol in the VR Training Buddy's hand. "Oh, shit," he muttered.

Without hesitation, he slammed his bat downwards, bonking the Training Buddy that had just emerged from the emitter. Swinging his bat in a wide, circular motion, he struck all three V1.0s surrounding him. One of them dodged backward, making him miss a follow-up swing. Still, he quickly took out the other two, one with a side swing and the other with a thrusting motion that impaled the V1.0's gut, causing it to dematerialize.

Only three opponents remained: the other V1.0, the V2.0 with the pipe, and the V3.0 with the pistol.

The V3.0 fired its gun, but Russell dodged the bullet by leaning out of the way. The V2.0 swung its pipe at him, but he parried with his bat, the two weapons clashing like swords. They locked together, each fighter pushing against the other. Russell twisted his bat, knocking the pipe out of the V2.0's hands. He then delivered a hard whack across the chest and knocked it down with a powerful right kick.

The V1.0 charged at him, but he dispatched it with a downward slam to the noggin, causing it to dissipate. The V2.0 got back on its feet and ran at him, with the V3.0 aiming its pistol for another shot. Russell vaulted over a metal barrel, using it as a cover. He dug in his pocket for another stone and peeked over the barrel. He lobbed the stone at the V2.0, taking it out before ducking back down to avoid another bullet.

Pressing his back against the barrel, Russell took a deep breath and gripped his bat tightly. The Noob sprinted out from cover, moving in a circular motion to avoid the V3.0's shots. Ducking under another bullet, he closed the distance and swung his bat at the hologram's ribs. The impact sent the V3.0 stumbling. With a final, powerful upward swing, he launched it into the ceiling, where it shattered into pixels.

Wave 3 was over.

"Hot damn, that was wild! Woo!" he exclaimed, touching his hips to catch his breath. "And I've got one more wave left. Crap..."

Russell walked over to the pistol left behind by the V3.0 and picked it up. He inspected the weapon, an N911 pistol, feeling its weight in his hand, then glanced at the wooden board strapped to his back. With a shrug, he unstrapped the board and tossed it to the ground. "Screw that thing. I got a bat anyways," he muttered to himself.

Armed with both a bat and a new pistol, Russell returned to the green button. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves for the final wave. With a persistent look, he slammed the button with the bottom of his gun, ready to complete the last round. The sign above the viewing glass flickered, switching from Wave 3 to Wave 4, signaling the start of the match.

Right when he turned around, the Noob saw something. To his surprise, the pipe left behind by the V2.0 and the board he dropped disappeared when he hit the button. Not only that, but they disappeared differently. The pipe seemed to... shrink. It got smaller and smaller until it just disappeared. His wooden board went similarly. The difference was that it floated off the ground and glowed white, but when it shrunk, it also gave off sparks, white sparks similar to that of a small fire, and like a fire, it eventually "burnt out" and vanished as if the board was ever there.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't see the 9mm parabellum he brought in here when it ran out of ammo and threw it at one of the Training Buddies. Did it disappear, too? Like the board and the pipe?

He didn't have time to think as the emitters in the middle and right side of the room started spewing out V1.0s. Two V1.0s quickly became four, then five, creating a growing wave of opponents.

Russell quickly got to work, aiming for the closest one. "Rebooting kill preferences," it said in a monotonous voice. Before it could act, Russell shot it in what looked like its thigh. It started fast-walking toward him, but he instantly killed it with a shot to the chest.

Spinning around, he fired another bullet at an approaching V1.0, taking it out with a shot to the neck. He turned again, shooting another V1.0 in the chest, but it didn't go down. To make things worse, the gun clicked, and the slide slid back, indicating it was empty.

"Shit!" The Noob dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a grab from the wounded V1.0 while another V1.0 from behind also lunged at him. Rolling on the hard floor, he quickly threw his empty gun at the latter V1.0, killing it instantly. As he stood up, he found himself surrounded by four more V1.0s.

His eyes darted between each of the holographic fighters. They just stared at him, fists raised, waiting for him to make the first move. He raised his fists as well, eyeing the nearest V1.0. Without hesitation, he charged and delivered a downward strike to its head, followed by a blow to the temple, taking it out.

Feeling movement behind him, Russell pivoted swiftly. He lunged forward with his left foot and threw a powerful right punch at the V1.0's face, killing it as its body flew up in the air.

"Uninstalling diplomacy," a V1.0 behind him said. Before he could react, it grabbed him from behind, hooking its arms under his armpits to restrain him. Using his legs, Russell pushed off the ground as hard as he could, slamming the V1.0 into the wall behind them, forcing it to release him. He then spun around and decked it in the face, dispelling it.

Two more Training Buddies approached, one hot on the heels of the other from a nearby emitter. He dealt with the first one with an upper right hook, then slammed both fists into its shoulders. He quickly turned and delivered a punch to the second's left eye area, followed by a hard punch to the gut, making it disperse.

From the middle of the room, a V2.0 appeared, this time armed with a metal wrench. Simultaneously, the emitter closest to Russell spat out a V3.0, only this time it wasn't armed.

The V2.0 quickly ran at Russell, but before it could swing at him, he hit first. He bonked the V2.0 with a slam to the forehead before giving another downward hit to the back of its head.

"Wtf," it muttered.

"What?!" Russell exclaimed, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected response. Shaking off his surprise, he punched the yellow Training Buddy in the left cheek, causing it to stagger backward.

As the V2.0 retreated, its orange counterpart, the V3.0, stepped in to challenge him. Undeterred, Russell continued his attack. He smacked the V3.0 in the face, followed by a punch to its chin. He then delivered a sharp chop to its forehead and another powerful punch to the same spot. Russell's assault was relentless: a diagonal uppercut with his right hand, a slam to the left shoulder, and another downward swing to the head. He followed with a powerful uppercut to the V3.0's chin, finally sending the orange Training Buddy floating up in the air, defeated.

As the V2.0 returned, Russell decided to forgo hand-to-hand combat. He lobbed a stone at its head, killing it instantly. Just then, a nearby emitter spat out another V3.0, much to his frustration. He threw another stone at the fake fighter's shoulder, but it kept advancing. Russell closed the distance, swung downward against the right side of its head, and continued with another downward swing to the opposite side of its face. He then struck a horizontal blow across the V3.0's chest. He kept bashing, pounding, and swinging his fists like hammers into the orange hologram's head until he finally dispelled it with one more hit to the shoulder.

"Finally! Damn!" he yelled, shaking both hands back and forth in irritation. It felt like he was hitting a wall.

From the other side of the room, Russell saw the emitters conjuring up more V1.0s. He pulled out his bat and ran to them before they could fully materialize. He swung his bat downwards, but the V1.0 he aimed at had the sense to dodge, leaning out of the way. Still, it couldn't avoid the horizontal swing to its ribs or the downward bonk to its head that dispelled it. A V2.0 then emerged, armed with its own wooden board with nails. However, when its feet touched the ground, Russell swung his bat across the yellow hologram's head, followed by a powerful kick that dispelled it. Several more V1.0s popped out from the emitters, and he repeated the process, bonking them with his bat before kicking them away. It was almost like he was playing whack-a-mole.

After throwing a rock to kill another V1.0, a V3.0 jumped out of an emitter. Deciding not to beat it with his hands, Russell raised his bat, ready to whack its digital face in. Before he could, he heard a loud slam behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw another Training Buddy in the middle of the room. This one was massive compared to the other VRs. It was way taller than him, colored red, and had hands with a width as big as Russell's head.

A VR Training Buddy V4.0.

The V4.0 immediately set its sights on Russell and started walking toward him.

"Oh, shit," he muttered. His attention quickly returned to the V3.0 in front, deciding to take it out first. The V3.0 picked up the wooden board left behind by the V2.0, but it left it open to a downward bonk to the head. It raised the board to defend itself, but Russell swung diagonally this time, hitting the V3.0 on its exposed side. He threw another again, but the V3.0 blocked the blow with its board.

He wanted to continue, but the V4.0 was now close, its massive form looming over him and its heavy steps signaling it was near. He quickly broke off from the fight with the V3.0, but not before throwing a stone at it, which connected with a satisfying crack and caused the V3.0 to disintegrate.

The Noob then sprinted past the massive hand of the V4.0 as it tried to grab him. He moved around the barrels as the hulking hologram stomped after him at its own pace. Its slow movements confused Russell; he wondered why it wasn't running after him, but he wasn't about to complain.

Just as Russell sprinted across the room, another emitter lit up. To his relief, it wasn't another V4.0, but two V2.0s slowly climbing out, each armed with metal pipes. He quickly threw a stone at the first one, nailing it in the face and catching its attention. A second stone hit it square in the jaw, causing it to disintegrate. He repeated the process with the other Training Buddy, hitting it in the chest and then in the eye.

"How hard are these fucking rocks?!" he exclaimed, examining one in his hand. It was absurd how effective they were. People could die from being hit with rocks, but this was on another level. These stones were made of something much denser than he realized, or he had the strength of a professional baseball player. Considering his amnesia, the latter possibility wasn't entirely out of the question.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps. He closed his eyes and sighed, bracing himself for what was coming next. Pocketing the stone, he gripped his bat tightly and turned to face the V4.0.

Positioning his left hand under his right on the bat's grip, Russell charged at the V4.0 and swung. He struck the red hologram on its left side, but it didn't even flinch. Instead, it countered with a powerful punch to Russell's side, the first time he had been hit since entering this virtual battleground. He gritted his teeth against the pain and stepped back, only to find the V4.0 advancing.

Russell swung his bat again, hitting the same spot, but the V4.0 responded with a punch to his left clavicle. It then pulled back its left fist and drove it straight into Russell's left ribs, sending a wave of severe pain through his body.

In retaliation, he clenched his left fist tightly and punched the V4.0's face. That did the trick, as the red hologram flew straight into the air and dispelled.

Wave 5 was over.

Russell raised his bat triumphantly, cheering, "Yeah!" His victory cry echoed through the room before he lowered his weapon and rubbed his sore clavicle. "Ow! Motherfucker! That hurt!"

He scanned the room again, searching for more Training Buddies, but none appeared. The emitters on the ground stayed inactive, confirming he was finally done.

"That's enough for now. See you tomorrow, Subject 1v02P_6," the Technician's voice echoed through the room.

"Oh, thank God," Russell whispered in relief. Then, a thought struck him. "Wait, how do I leave again—?"

Before he could finish, everything around him faded to black.

---

When he opened his eyes, the piercing blue light greeted his orbitals. "God damn it, again?!" he groaned. Instinctively, he lifted his head, only to bump it against the metal of the Sleepwalker Bed's hatch. "Really?!"

Russell raised one hand and tapped the inside of the door. In response, it flipped open like a trash can lid, allowing him to step out. He sat up and took a deep breath of fresh air, grateful to be out of the box. He rubbed the spots where the V4.0 had hit him. Despite knowing it was all virtual, the pain had felt incredibly real. He vividly remembered the hits connecting with his ribs and shoulder and the searing pain that followed. Now, though, there was nothing. It was like he had never been hurt in the first place. The saying was true: your mind makes it real.

As he rubbed his body, dragging his hand past the spots he was hurt, he noticed something changed. It was subtle, but when he ran his hand across his left arm around his bicep, it felt thick. It was hard. The same could be said with his other arm. It was dense, too. Even his thighs felt more rigid and tense. Curious, he pulled up his smock to get a look at his belly. Sure enough, it was thinner, and he had some noticeable pecks.

"Oh, damn. I have muscles now," Russell said in surprise. Granted, he still had some flabbiness in the sides and didn't have a six-pack, but he saw the results of the Sleepwalker Bed. It worked.

He was so caught up in his altered look that he almost didn't notice the change in view. He expected a still-dirtied room with trash, dirt, and other waste around the area. What Russell didn't expect was a practically pristine room. There were no garbage, litter, tents, or dirtied sleeping bags. Aside from the visible wires that ran across the room connecting to the Sleepwalker Bed, this place looked spick and span.

There were some other changes. For one, the Training Dummy was in the same place. There was more exercise equipment around the bed, ranging from dumbells, barbells, benches, and a sandbag, and in a nearby corner was a bunch of cleaning equipment likely used by Bossman to scrub this place of any junk.

Speaking of Bossman, where was he?

Now that he thought about it, how long was he in the Sleepwalker Bed?

Russell stepped out from the bed, feeling the new strength in his legs. He walked over to the nearest dumbbell, picked it up, and noticed how light it felt. He tested a few reps and was surprised. It felt so easy.

"Hot damn," he muttered, setting the dumbbell down.

He continued to explore the room, noting the thorough cleanliness. The walls, once dirtied and littered with cobwebs, were now spotless. The floor, previously covered in dust, debris, and a bunch of other crap was clean enough to reflect the overhead lights. It was a stark contrast to the mess he remembered.

His thoughts drifted back to Bossman. He had to have something to do with this. But where was he now?

"Well, better start looking," Russell thought as he began to march out of the Sleepwalker room. As he did, he noticed some words printed in black on the nearby wall, inside same-colored arrows. The arrow pointing to the door on the left, the direction he was headed, read "Dormitory," while the arrow pointing to the right, where he had been earlier, read "Medical."

"Huh, so that's what those places are?" he mused, giving one more hum before proceeding toward the Dormitory.

Like the Sleepwalker room, which was actually called the "Gymnasium" according to the nearby arrow on the floor, the Dormitory was surprisingly clean. There were no crumpled papers, pizza boxes, or empty bottles lying around. Even the dead body and blood of the Hooligan he had killed earlier were gone. Not even that weird smell lingered. Russell continued through the Dormitory, taking in the tidy environment. The bunk beds on the other side of the room were neatly made, the tables were dustless, and the floors were spotless. It was a stark contrast to the mess the Noob remembered.

Returning to the central hub room, also apparently labeled "Station Hub" by another arrow, he found it spotless. The large, L-shaped table was clear of any pizza boxes, the scattered papers on the floor were gone, and the floor was polished to a shine. All the debris blocking the other paths to different building sections had been cleared out. For the first time, he could make out the designations of the other rooms by the printed arrows on the ground. He could have checked what they were earlier by moving the trash out of the way himself, but he hadn't thought to do so back then.

"The heck is a Quartermaster?" He questioned as he read the writing on the floor. "Still, Bossman must have really gone all out," Russell thought, liking the building's change.

As he explored the Station Hub, he noticed more details. The modded phone he had used to call Doc was still in the same spot on the desk but now free of dust. The desk had a few empty notebooks to write in, with a clipboard holding several fresh sheets of paper. The walls had been scrubbed clean to the best of someone's ability, and the air felt fresher. In fact, it smelled better, too.

"Is that... lavender?" He took a couple of sniffs. Somehow, he recognized the fresh, floral, sweet smell of lavender. "Well, shit. Where did he get the lavender?"

Continuing on, he finally made his way back to the lobby. Peering over the edge of the landing, standing under the clean "Annex Technologies" sign and the "Under new management" banner was Bossman. Like before, it was as if he was waiting for the Noob to come back. Walking down the second ramp and past the first landing with no tent, Bossman noticed the Noob when he was halfway down the landing.

"Say, you're looking pretty trim there, Russell! Check out those muscles! Look at that ripping physique!" Bossman exclaimed, his tone a mix of half-joking and genuine respect.

"I wouldn't say that. My arms and legs look great, but I've still got this," Russell replied, grabbing his belly with both hands and giving it a little shake. "I get what you mean, though." He then gestured around the pristine room, twirling one finger. "But did you do all this? Like, all by yourself?"

Bossman nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Had to make it livable for you. Can't have my new boss working in a dump."

"Well... shit, man. Thanks. I mean, I hate to sound like a broken record, but thank you," Russell said, thankful the former hobo went this far.

Bossman responded with another smile and a dismissive wave. "It was nothing, really."

"Still, though, all by yourself? How long was I in there?" Russell asked, curiosity piqued.

"You were in the bed for a while, actually. Like a couple of hours," Bossman replied.

"Seriously? It felt so short. I'm pretty sure I spent less than ten minutes there," Russell said, bewildered. "I guess it's like you're actually going to sleep or taking a nap, you know? Next thing happens, and you just slept through a couple of hours."

"Like I said, man, I just stole the thing," Bossman shrugged.

Russell gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, you did." He wondered how Bossman managed to steal something huge and valuable from his last job. Maybe he'll ask about it in the future. He sighed, taking another look around the now clean lobby. "Still, this place looks incredible. You really went all out."

"Had to. You're the new boss now, remember?" Bossman said.

"So, what do we do now?" Russell asked. "Did you find your friend yet?"

Bossman scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, this guy's no friend. A real piece of work, this one. But make no mistake, he's an earner. Which means you're gonna have to go snatch him up."

"Snatch him up?" Russell repeated, puzzled. "What happened?"

"He got himself captured by some Toughs in Nevada Central, and now you're gonna have to go get him. The Northern Central Bus will take you to where they're holding him hostage."

"Wait, back up," Russell said, raising a hand to stop him. "Who are the Toughs, and why do they have him as a hostage?"

"They're your stereotypical gang of street thugs over in the city. They're more of a nuisance than anything, though they're still kinda dangerous compared to the average Joe, but I think you can handle them. You took that Sleepwalker Bed out for a spin, so you might be good." Bossman explained. "As for why they have him hostage... you're gonna have to ask him when you get him."

"I have to rescue a dude from a biker gang? Really?" Russell asked, more annoyed than anything.

"Yeah, really. We need this guy if we're going to get this place off the ground," Bossman answered. "He's a bit of a pain and will talk you out of your wallet, but he's good beans. He's worth it."

"If you say so," Russell conceded. "It's a bit of a step up from killing homeless people, don't you think?"

"Like I said earlier, there are worse things in Nevada." He said. "Anyways, just head outside and check the bus schedule. It will take you where you need to go. I think it's at the same bus stop you first arrived from."

"Alright," Russell said.

"But if you don't think you're ready and don't feel strong enough to rescue my guy, you can keep using that Sleepwalker Bed." He suggested.

"Hmm..." Russell began to think, pinching his chin.

He looked ready to get Bossman's associate back on one hand, but at the same time, a few more rounds in the Sleepwalker Bed couldn't hurt. There was also a nagging feeling in his head that told him to go do the other difficulties of the bed. He wasn't sure if it was a compulsion, a desire to brush up his skills more, complete the bed's difficulties, or a combo of all options.

Might as well, he guessed.

"You know what? I'll give the Sleepwalker Bed another go," Russell decided. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

Bossman nodded in agreement. "Right-o. Get yourself as ready as possible. Like I said, the Toughs aren't that dangerous, but they're no slouches, so take as long as you need." He said. "I mean, they're probably going to beat our guy in the meantime, but do what you gotta do, boss."

The Noob stared at him for a moment. "...Okay."

"Oh!" Bossman said, suddenly remembering something. "One final thing I forgot to mention, and this is the last one, I swear. When you beat the final wave of a difficulty in the Sleepwalker Bed, you can keep going."

"What do you mean by "keep going"?"

"After you beat Wave 5 on any setting and you're forced out of the Sleepwalker Bed, you can return to that level and go on Endless Mode."

"The heck is that?"

"It means what it sounds like. You can go on forever, taking on a never-ending line of waves that get harder with each round. If you want to go all in, rack up experience, and see how far you can push yourself, Endless Mode is your best option. But you can only access Endless Mode once you beat Wave 5. And if you lose in Endless Mode, you gotta start from all the way from the beginning again."

Russell nodded in understanding but then tilted his head slightly. "You keep telling me a ton of stuff about the Sleepwalker Bed even though you said you just stole it and have no idea how it works."

"Hey, all I know about that machine is from the tech-heads back in Nexus City. I'm just passing along what they told me," Bossman said.

"Like what?" Russell asked.

"Something about putting a copy of some guy's memories in the thing, but I'll tell you more about it later," Bossman said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Alright," Russell replied, deciding to focus on the immediate task at hand.

Russell turned on his heel and walked up the ramps to his destination, taking a couple more glances at the cleanliness of each room on his way back.

He soon returned to the Gymnasium, mentally preparing for another round in the Sleepwalker Bed. Taking a deep breath, he walked around the machine's base and knelt to look at the settings screen. A blue checkmark now adorned the upper right side of the Normal difficulty, showing he had beaten it. Rubbing his hands in anticipation, he reached up to press the "Tough" difficulty, but his eyes caught the "Tourist" setting instead. Again, he didn't know what it was, but it was right there, and it bugged him, and there was a gnawing feeling, an urge, in his head that screamed that he had to do Tourist first, then Tough, and then Madness.

It didn't look right, heck, it didn't feel right if he didn't.

So that's what he did.

He lifted his finger higher and pressed the baby-faced icon.

Instantly, another screen appeared, and below it were two options. The screen read: "Reset Waves? Doing this will reset your wave progress for this stage. Are you sure this is what you want to do?" And the options below read: "Confirm" in green and "Abort" in red.

It was clear. If Russell did this, he'd have to start all over again. But since he was beginning the Tourist difficulty, "Easy Mode," essentially, it probably wouldn't be too taxing compared to the Normal setting. With no hesitation, the Noob pressed confirm, and the Wave 1 icon glowed yellow and flashed white. Like that, all his progress was gone, and he was back to doing Wave 1.

"Alright, I guess that's it," he said. Then, he noticed something else: a small green bar next to the difficulties that read: "Skip Checkpoint."

"That wasn't there before," he thought. Maybe it was, but he had overlooked it the first time. The Noob pondered what that meant, and the gears in his head started to turn. "Can I...?" He reached up and pressed the green button. Immediately, the Wave 2 icon lit up and started flashing, while Wave 1 stayed glowing yellow. "Oh, crap, I can. I can skip to the end." This meant he could skip to Wave 5 and start Endless Mode.

Russell looked at the open Sleepwalker Bed like it was inviting him in. It reminded him of an open toilet seat if he was honest, and he was the... well, you get the idea. As he lay back in the bed and the hatch slammed shut, the familiar feeling of the machine taking over washed over him, and he closed his eyes, ready for whatever came next.

"I should really give that guy a raise," he thought about Bossman. "Maybe a medal."

---

Somewhere in Japan

Now.

---

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" The curse echoed in his head as he bolted down the dark fire escape of the building he had just been on.

He clutched his goggles and respirator in his left hand by their straps while gripping his red hood tightly in his right. His body still surged with adrenaline from the killing spree he had just committed and the frantic dash across rooftops.

A whirlwind of thoughts raced through the Noob's mind as he descended towards the ground, mainly where on God's green Earth he was.

"How the fuck did I get here?" he muttered to himself. "Am I in Japan or something?!"

The clues were all around him: the cars, the signs in kanji, the people who clearly weren't American, and the language those suits were speaking. It wasn't English, but he recognized enough from anime and listening to Japanese music to know it was Japanese.

He had spent most of his time in and out of Nevada Central, so either he was sent to an Asian/Eastern-themed part of town he didn't know about, or he was somehow in the land of the rising sun.

Reaching the bottom of the fire escape, he dropped to the alley below, landing on both feet as he stepped into a small puddle. The Noob continued to run, passing garbage bags and dumpsters until he made it all the way to the end of the alley. The street ahead was bustling with people, and the neon signs lit up the night sky. Peaking his head out, he made a quick back and forth between both sides of the street for any police. Thankfully, there weren't any; he probably got far enough from the chaos he made earlier.

He quickly donned his goggles, pulled the respirator over his face, and put his hood back on, hoping to blend in better with the sea of people.

"Alright, let's do this," he said.

He saw the first open spot between the walking civilians and took it, walking out of the alley and the busy street. Russell kept his head down with his eyes glued to the street, but not too far down to be unable to see in front; he kept a steady space while also making sure not to bump into anyone in front of or passing him.

As he walked, Russell gradually attuned himself to the world around him. His ears began to catch pieces of conversations he couldn't understand, the steady hum of traffic, and the occasional shout from nearby vendors. The sounds blended together, forming a mix of urban life he knew all too well every time he went to town.

After weaving through the crowded streets, he finally stopped and lifted his head; he found himself in a sprawling open plaza, surrounded by towering buildings and a sea of people bustling in every direction.

The area was bathed in the glow of vibrant, multicolored billboards and neon signs, their lights flickering and shifting. The air was filled with the chatter of people, including groups of young students who looked like they had just come from high school, speaking a language he didn't comprehend; they moved through the plaza with ease, laughing and talking without a care in the world. Street vendors lined the plaza edges, peddling their wares and offering an array of foods to eager customers. The smells of grilled meat, sweet pastries, and savory noodles wafted through the air, almost making Russell hungry despite everything that had happened.

The scene was so different, but at the same time, very similar to the world he knew. He was no stranger to the metropolis life of Nevada Central, the people going about their days, the hot dog vendors, the shops, the cars and bikes passing, but it was completely different here. Again, it was probably the fact everything was written in kanji, and everyone was Asian instead of American, but still.

Russell stood there, taking it all in. It was so damn surreal, being here in this unfamiliar place. It was like getting off the bus after arriving at a section of town he hadn't been to or going to a new location outside the city for the first time.

"This place looks... beautiful," he said, his head turning, looking around all the sights he could see. "It looks peaceful, too."

A sudden flash and a distinct click yanked the Noob out of his thoughts; he heard another click behind him and instinctively turned around. A group of teenagers had gathered, their phones held up as they snapped pictures of him. They were just a bunch of kids, probably in their late teens, out for a fun night, dressed in casual clothes.

What caught his attention, though, wasn't the fact that they were taking pictures of him but that they were using flip phones instead of the usual iPhones he was used to seeing and were the mainstay nowadays.

One of the teens, a young girl with a bright smile, broke away from the group and walked up to him, her pink flip phone still raised. "Excuse me, can I take a picture with you?" She asked. "Your outfit looks really cool!"

Russell had no idea what she was saying, but he could tell she wanted to take more pictures with him; he shrugged and gave a thumbs up, which, hopefully, she knew what that meant. The thumbs-up was like a universal gesture, so everyone should know.

The girl's face lit up with delight, and she quickly posed next to him, holding her phone out for a selfie while Russell still did a thumbs-up. The rest of her friends gathered around, enthusiastically chattering as they joined in, their phones clicking and flashing as they took turns snapping pictures with him. The last time he had done anything like this was when he was taking pictures with his Slaughter Time fanbase. Russell found himself in the middle of an impromptu photo shoot, surrounded by this group of excited teenagers who, for some reason, thought his outfit was the coolest thing they'd seen all night.

Then again, he did stand out like a sore thumb; he was wearing full combat gear, which, in his home, wasn't out of the ordinary, something that back home in Nevada would have been as common as wearing a hoodie and jeans or that grey smock everyone keeps wearing. Whether it was metal armor, a car door strapped to your chest, or even a straightjacket, it was par for the course. But it was different here, and his tactical gear made him look like he'd just stepped out of a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

And, to be fair, he had.

As the last flash went off, the girl gave him a grateful bow, thanking him with an "Arigato." The teens waved as they walked away, laughing and chatting, leaving him in the middle of the bustling plaza. Russell responded with a wave, unsure of what had just happened but felt the interaction was nice.

"They probably thought I was cosplaying or something," he muttered under his breath, the words muffled by his respirator. "Seriously though, where the fuck am I? Am I really in Japan?"

The question gnawed at him as he continued down the street, weaving through the flow of people. Men in suits, women in stylish outfits, teenagers engrossed in their phones, and parents wrangling their children, aside from some secondary glances, all walked past him without a thought.

Russell's eyes darted around, searching for anything that might give him a clue of where he was. Signs in kanji, storefronts with displays he couldn't read, and the constant hum of a language he didn't understand surrounded him. The Noob found some luck when he saw a convenience store just a couple dozen feet from where he was. Like the clothes he wore, the bright white lights and the orange and red colors that reminded him of a 7-Eleven stood out like a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean of passing people. They called those "konbinis," if the Noob recalled.

"Maybe they have a newspaper," he thought, his mind grasping at the idea like a drowning man reaching for a lifebuoy. It was a long shot, but what better option did he have? A newspaper might have the answers he needed, something to confirm his suspicions or at least give him a better idea of where he had landed. He just hoped some of it was in English.

Russell made his way to the store, carefully avoiding the passing people and the occasional car that zipped by. The closer he got, the more the city's noise seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the faint buzz of an air conditioner.

"Irasshaimase," The employee standing behind the counter said the moment the automatic doors slid back, and he stepped inside. The store was small but not cramped and still had some walking room, with aisles lined with different products, snacks, drinks, personal care stuff, and magazines.

Russell's eyes quickly scanned the shelves until they landed on a small rack near the counter, stacked with what he was looking for. He moved closer with some slight anticipation; if anything in this store that could help him make sense of where he was, it would be here. As he reached out for a newspaper, he felt the konbini staring at him, likely because of his choice of clothing. Russell brushed it off before combing through the grey papers.

Unsurprisingly, the dense characters were indecipherable; he went through another paper when one caught his eye. It stood out for one simple reason: it was in English. His pulse quickened as he quickly grabbed it and began to read.

The headline at the top of the page confirmed it: The Japan Times. Printed in Tokyo, Japan.

The front page was filled with news about Japan experiencing its first avian influenza outbreak in nearly 80 years, with the outbreak detected in a poultry farm in Yamaguchi Prefecture. Another section was about Emperor Akihito delivering a rare public address, expressing concern over the declining birthrate and its impact on Japan's future. Another was about a deadly avalanche that occurred in Nagano Prefecture, killing eight people, including university students, on a skiing trip.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible through his respirator. "There's no mistaking it... I'm in fucking Japan."

He tossed the newspaper onto the rack. The Noob pulled back his hood and ran his hands through his hair. This wasn't just some strange, Japanese-themed district in Nevada Central. He was thousands of miles away from everything he knew in a country he barely knew about outside the media back home.

"A... Ano... daijoubu ka?" The Konbini employee's voice broke through Russell's thoughts, soft yet laced with concern.

Russell's eyes darted to the young clerk, visible only as sharp reflections behind his tinted goggles. "Y-Yeah... I mean... hai," he stammered, his voice muffled by the respirator. It was one of the few Japanese words he could muster on the spot. "Just... god damn it..."

The employee nodded, though his expression remained cautious, unsure what to make of the strange person standing in his store, clad in combat gear. The brief exchange brought Russell back to reality, grounding him in the present moment.

"What the fuck do I do now?" he whispered so softly that the words were swallowed by his respirator, heard by no one but him. He stepped back, nodding slightly at the cashier. "Thanks, I mean, arigato."

Still visibly puzzled, the cashier responded, "Uh, no problem... Do you need anything else? Would you like to buy that paper? It only costs a few yen."

Russell had no clue what the man was saying; he just shook his head. Without another word, he turned and exited the store, leaving the employee scratching his head in confusion.

"Come back again!... Weird..." the clerk muttered as the automatic doors slid shut.

Russell was surprised, shocked, baffled, and any other synonym used to describe the discovery he made. His mind raced, scrambling to piece together how he had ended up here, of all places. But alongside the confusion, there was also a strange sense of relief. He at least knew where he was now, Tokyo, Japan, but that only led to a bigger, more daunting question: what the fuck does he do now?

Russell was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice where he was walking, moving in a straight line and inadvertently bumping into several people along the way. It wasn't until a forceful shove jolted him out of his daze that he returned to reality.

"Move it, punk!" a man in a blue sweater barked as he pushed past Russell without a second glance.

Russell frowned at the guy, but before he could react, he was shoved again, this time from the side by a man in a blue-grey suit. "Pain in the ass," the suited man muttered with irritation as he brushed past him.

He got shoved again from behind, causing him to get annoyed. "Okay, now I'm getting pissed." The Noob thought.

The final straw came when a man in a white, long-sleeved dress shirt kicked him in the back, causing Russell to stumble forward. The man sneered as he passed, "Get the fuck outta here!"

"Alright, that's it," Russell thought, his patience snapping like a brittle twig, his earlier confusion giving way to irritation and anger. He watched the group of men walk away, his eyes focused on the one in the dress shirt; with no hesitation, he strode up behind the man and tapped him on the left shoulder.

"Huh?" The man turned, confused, but instantly, Russell's fist shot out, connecting squarely with his face.

The punch was brutal, delivered with all the force of every pent-up emotion the Noob felt. Blood sprayed from the man's nose as he staggered backward, crashing into the nearest people of the group like a falling domino. The furthest in the posse backed up while two of the men that the man with the dress shirt slammed into helped their friend up, who was holding a broken and badly bleeding nose.

The man in the dress shirt looked at the blood in his hand before using it to cover his face again; he then looked at the one responsible.

"The fuck's your problem?!" The shock was slowly subsiding with anger as his two friends, followed by the others in the group, all glared at the Noob, who just stood there, staring back. "What? Ya wanna die?!"

Russell took a deep, audible breath from behind his mask. "I don't know what you said, and you probably don't know what I'm saying either, but I've had a rough day, and I just learned something really fucking monumental. I'm not in the right mental state right now, so you really don't want to piss me off."

"Eh?!" The one in the dress shirt started. Not understanding anything he was saying. "The fuck are you saying, asshole?!"

He swung his arm in a wide arc, aiming to land a blow of his own, but Russell was faster. He stepped back, grabbing the man's arm with both hands. Without hesitation, he tilted his head back and snapped it forward, slamming his forehead into the man's with a resounding crack. The impact sent the man reeling, his already dazed expression replaced with a look of utter pain. He stumbled backward once more, crashing into his group, who caught him with a mix of surprise and anger.

The Noob's hand moved behind his back, and with a swift, practiced motion, he pulled out his trusted weapon: a battle axe, worn from countless skirmishes but still as deadly as ever. He spun it effortlessly in his fingers, the blade catching the light as it twirled before he tossed it slightly into the air, catching it firmly by the grip.

The surrounding onlookers, drawn in by the brewing confrontation, suddenly realized things were escalating far beyond a simple street brawl. They began to back away, their curiosity replaced by a primal instinct to avoid whatever chaos was about to unfold.

The man with the broken nose struggled to his feet, still clutching his bleeding face. His friends helped him up, their confusion evident as they stared at the weapon in Russell's hand. But as they took in the whole picture, the battle axe, the combat gear, the mask, they went from puzzled to amused.

The man in the blue sweater was the first to break into a loud, mocking laugh. "What the hell?!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He pointed at Russell, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is this guy for real right now?"

His laughter was infectious, spreading to the others. The man in the blue-grey suit smirked, looking Russell up and down with disdain. "What's that? A prop?" he asked, his tone incredulous as he gestured towards the axe. "Seriously, what's with that get-up? You trying to be a superhero or something, you dumb fuck?"

"Yeah, why don't you fly away before we fuck you up, huh?" one of them jeered, his voice dripping with mockery.

Their laughter echoed in the street, a sound that seemed to hang in the air, taunting and dismissive. They clearly saw Russell as nothing more than a joke, a cosplayer who had taken things too far, a crazy guy playing dress-up in their city. But Russell didn't need to understand Japanese to catch the mockery in their voices; he knew they were laughing at him because they thought he was some joke.

The thing was, it was funny, just not in the way they thought.

Russell's shoulders began to shake as a deep laugh came from within him. His mask muffled the sound but became louder, piercing through the respirator and echoing down the street. The men stopped laughing, their amusement turning to confusion as they watched him with suspicious eyes.

"What? Something funny, asshole?" the one in the blue sweater demanded, stepping forward with an air of arrogance. He stomped toward Russell, his steps heavy with aggression until he was only a few feet away. But Russell just kept laughing, watching the man close the distance between them, his eyes sharp behind his goggles.

"Hey! Are ya deaf? Huh?!" The man was in front of him now, his face twisted in a sneer.

Russell's laughter gradually subsided, turning into a low chuckle, then a sigh. He took a small breath, his grip on the axe tightening as he looked down at the weapon, then back up at the man in the sweater.

"Thank you," Russell said, almost calm. "I needed that."

"Huh?! What the hell are you saying? Speak Japanese!" The man in the sweater tilted his head, clearly frustrated by the lack of understanding.

"Well..." Russell glanced at his axe again, then locked eyes with the man from behind his goggles. Beneath his respirator, his expression was no longer amused. If only they could see under his mask, then they could see he wasn't smiling anymore. "Back to it, then."

The man barely had time to register the words before Russell's right foot shot out, kicking him squarely in the chest. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backward, his balance lost. Russell closed the gap with quick steps, gripping the axe with both hands. He raised it above his head, the blade gleaming under the streetlights, and brought it down.

The axe connected with a sickening crunch, splitting the man's head apart like a watermelon, blood spraying in all directions. The impact sent a jolt through Russell's arms, but he held firm, more than used to the sensation now.

"AH!" The man in the suit screamed, his voice breaking with fear, and the rest of the group recoiled in horror. Their earlier bravado had evaporated instantly, replaced by a terror that gripped them like a vice. The sight of their friend's gruesome death shattered their confidence, leaving them paralyzed with shock.

The man in the sweater fell to his knees. Russell yanked his axe free, the blade dripping with blood, while the body fell back limp on the pavement and turned his gaze toward the remaining men.

"Seriously, though," he started, the stone-cold face he had before broke and busted out in another short chuckle. "Thank you. Thank you for the laugh." He stepped over the corpse as the group backed away in fear. He reached behind with the other hand, pulling out one of his throwing axes. "I... I really needed that. I was in a bad spot." Russell continued, flipping the throwing axe nonchalantly. The blade glinted in the neon lights as it spun in the air, first caught by the handle, then the blade, and then the handle again. "Okay... time to die."

With a quick swing of his arm, the throwing axe lodged into the right eye of the man in the suit. The man's scream was cut short as he crumpled to his knees, his hands feebly grasping at the axe, but it was too late. His body went limp, collapsing to the pavement like a marionette with its strings cut.

"O-Oshiro!" The man in the black hoodie screamed, his voice cracking as he stared at his friend's lifeless body. He turned to Russell, panic overtaking him. "Fuck this! He's gonna kill us!"

"We gotta get out of here!" another wearing a black t-shirt shouted as he spun around and broke into a frantic sprint. The man in the black hoodie and the one with the broken nose were right behind him, their feet slapping against the pavement as they fled.

As they ran, the one with the broken nose glanced over his shoulder, adrenaline making everything feel surreal. In the split second he turned, his heart dropped. He saw two more objects whizz through the air; the first throwing axe slammed into the neck of the guy in the black shirt, causing him to collapse instantly, choking on his own blood. The second axe hit the man in the black hoodie squarely in the back of his head, the impact so severe that he crumpled like a ragdoll.

The man with the broken nose stumbled to a halt, spinning around and walking backward as his mind struggled to process what he had just witnessed. His friends were alive mere seconds ago, running beside him, and now they lay dead on the ground, their bodies motionless and broken.

He was the last one standing.

He lifted his head and saw the figure of the Noob, who was steadily approaching, flipping another axe in his hand with the practiced ease of a seasoned killer. The sight sent a jolt of pure terror through him. All the bravado was gone, replaced by sheer desperation. He had to get away. He had to survive.

"You're crazy! You're fucking crazy!" he screamed, his voice tinged with hysteria as he turned and tried to run. But he barely made it three steps before he felt a sharp, excruciating pain in his leg. Something hard and unyielding had struck him, sending him crashing to the ground. He skidded painfully across the rough pavement, his palms and knees scraping against the unforgiving surface as he came to a stop.

He glanced down and saw the blade of the axe embedded in his calf, blood pooling around it. The pain was overwhelming, and he could hardly breathe as he struggled to crawl away, but it was futile. He was too injured, too terrified, and the shadow of death loomed closer with every step Russell took.

"Please! Please, I'm sorry!" The man with the broken nose begged, his voice trembling as Russell drew nearer. "I'm sorry for kicking you! Please, just let me go!" His words spilled out in a desperate, frantic stream, his hands raised in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable.

Russell didn't need to understand Japanese to grasp the meaning behind the man's pleas. The fear in his eyes and the quiver in his voice all told the same story. The guy was pleading for his life, reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess on the pavement.

Was Russell going too far?

Maybe.

But they had started this, and now he was finishing it.

Gripping his axe tightly, Russell lifted it high above his head, eyes locked on the terrified man with the broken nose. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought the blade crashing down into the man's chest. The impact was sickening, the sharp edge cutting flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. Blood erupted from the wound, soaking through the man's once-white dress shirt, turning it a deep, dark red. The man gasped, his breath gurgling as blood filled his lungs. He tried to speak, but only a wet, choking sound escaped his lips. He vomited up more blood, the crimson liquid spilling down his chin, a macabre reminder of the life draining from his body. His eyes, wide with terror and pain, fixed on Russell's face. Russell didn't flinch as he yanked the axe free from the man's chest. The body convulsed, the last vestiges of life clinging desperately, but the Noob wasn't finished. He raised the axe once more, this time aiming for the man's head. The dying man barely had time to register the movement before the blade came down again, cleaving his skull in two with a final, gruesome strike. The body went limp, and the man's life was extinguished in an instant. Blood pooled around the corpse, mingling with the dirt and grime of the street.

Russell stood over him; he stared down at the lifeless body, the split head, the blood-soaked clothes, and felt... nothing.

No remorse, no regret.

"Well, that's that," Russell muttered, giving his bloodied axe a final spin before securing it on his back. "Still, where the fuck do I go from here?"

Without wasting another second, he bolted, slipping into the shadows of a nearby alleyway. His heart pounded in his chest as he navigated the narrow, dimly lit passageways, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He didn't know where he was heading, and frankly, the Noob didn't care; he just needed to get out of there before anyone stumbled upon the carnage and called the police.

The streets were quieter now, with only the distant hum of the city breaking the silence. He glanced around, trying to get his bearings, but the towering buildings and unfamiliar signs offered little comfort; he was a stranger in a strange land and was far from home.

Soon, he reached the other end of the alley and cautiously poked his head out, finding himself near a bridge that spanned a wide river. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary bridge, the kind you'd see in any city, but something about it made Russell pause; he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a river, let alone a large body of running water.

"Fucking amnesia," he thought bitterly.

With its endless stretches of desert, Nevada didn't have much in the way of rivers or lakes. The most water he'd ever seen was usually from broken pipes or the rare artificial reservoir. So seeing a river, actual, clean, flowing water that didn't have a dead body floating in it or a Zed ready to pop out and eat someone was almost surreal.

People were scattered around the bridge, some leaning over the railings to watch the water below while others crossed it to get to the other side. A few were fishing along the banks, their rods dipping lazily into the water as they waited for a bite. It was another peaceful scene contrasting the chaos that had unfolded not long ago.

The Noob noticed another alley nearby and quickly made his way toward it. This one had a set of stone steps leading upward, so he began to climb, the sounds of the city below fading with each step. Once he reached the top, he found himself in a secluded space, almost cube-shaped, nestled between several tall apartment buildings. The only light came from the apartment windows above, casting a dim glow over the area. The space was more hidden than he had expected, with only two ways in or out: the alley he had just taken and another one on the opposite side.

Russell's eyes were drawn to a metal staircase that ascended to a small apartment perched on the metal support beams. It looked strange. Unlike the apartments around him, it was so short in comparison that it looked like it could hold only one person. Its rusted railings were cluttered with garbage, and two wooden boards haphazardly blocked the door. The place looked abandoned, but that's when a thought appeared in Russell's head.

"I wonder..." he muttered as he approached the metal stairs, carefully avoiding the scattered debris. Each step creaked under his weight, with the sound echoing in the quiet space. When he reached the top, he removed the two wooden planks that barred the door. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

"Hello?" he called out, knocking on the door. "Anyone home?"

Silence. He knocked again, harder this time, hoping to get a response.

"Anyone in there?"

Again, nothing.

The place was either abandoned or whoever lived there was long gone. The junk scattered everywhere suggested the latter, but there was always a slim chance the occupant was just a reclusive hoarder. Russell looked around, taking in the secluded space one more time. It was isolated, hidden between the towering apartment buildings, and the shack provided a decent vantage point. Despite its rundown appearance, it was perfect for laying low until he figured out what to do next. It wasn't much, but he wasn't about to complain about providence.

All he had to do was get in.

"Fuck it, looks like I'm breaking in," he muttered, stepping back. He aimed a hard kick at the door, the impact sending a shudder through the structure as dust rained down like snow. He tried again, but the door held firm. "Come on! Let me in, damn it!" He growled. After the third kick, he finally heard a crack. "Oh shit, am I in?" He half expected to kick the door more, but it looked like he didn't have to. He wondered aloud, pausing for a moment. He nudged the door with his foot, and it creaked open slightly, revealing a dark interior. The lock had given way, and the door now hung ajar.

He pushed it open fully, stepping inside cautiously. The air was stale, carrying the scent of dust and decay. The interior of the "apartment" was a big, square-shaped box and just as cluttered as the outside, with old newspapers, empty cans, and random trash strewn about. It was clear that no one had been here for a long time.

On the door's right side, he noticed a small sink and an old fridge. Above them was a window, and even higher up, a vent that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in months. On the opposite end of the room, another window let in a sliver of light, cutting through the darkness. A single light bulb with a chain dangled from the ceiling, swaying as if disturbed by his presence.

Russell reached up and yanked the chain, hoping for some light. Nothing. The bulb remained dark. No power.

He walked over to the far window, sliding it open. The wood frame rattled as it moved, but it soon gave way. The cool night air rushed in, refreshing after the musty confines of the shack. The window offered a decent view of the river and the bridge he had seen earlier. From this vantage point, he could watch the world outside without being seen, a small comfort in his awkward situation.

The last thing that caught his eye was a sliding door closet on the side of the room. He walked over and gave it a tug, but the door resisted, stuck like the window; with a bit of force, he slid it open, creaking as it revealed its contents.

Inside were two shelves, both coated in thick layers of dust. The top and bottom shelves were completely empty, but the middle one held a bit of luck: a futon, folded neatly, though it was just as dusty as everything else. It wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping on the hard, dirty floor. There was no pillow, but he could make do; Russell pulled the futon out and shook it as best as he could, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

"Argh, god damn it," he muttered, waving the dust away from his face. His goggles and respirator shielded him from the worst of it, but the cloud still made it hard to see. "Wait, aren't you supposed to beat these outside or something to clean them?"

Glancing around, he realized there wasn't much he could use to clean the futon besides the scattered trash. Then it hit him: his axe.

With a shrug, the Noob grabbed the futon, dragged it over to the window, and dangled it outside. Using the blunt side of his axe, he began beating it, knocking out as much dust and dirt as he could manage.

"I have no idea if I'm doing this right," he muttered, but he kept at it anyway.

After a few minutes of this makeshift cleaning method, he pulled the futon back inside. It wasn't perfect—still a bit dusty and dingy—but it was significantly better than before. He spread it out on the floor and sat down, the slight give of the mattress a welcome relief after everything that had happened.

First, he removed his hood, letting the cool air hit his neck. Next came his goggles, then the respirator, finally allowing himself to take in a full breath of the stale air inside the room. He unfastened his shoulder pauldrons, followed by his body armor, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders. Lastly, he removed his grey boots, letting his feet breathe as he stretched out his toes in his worn socks. He carefully set aside his battle axe, the throwing axes, and his Nevadean Blaster, all within arm's reach, just in case.

The Noob then laid down on the futon, feeling its lumpy but somehow comforting surface beneath him. He stared at the ceiling, the dim light from the window casting faint shadows on the walls. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

"What a fucking day," he muttered, exhaustion washing over him. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but he hoped it would be better than today.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, a thought jolted him awake. "Wait, I forgot to close the door. God damn it," he groaned, forcing himself back up to secure the door before finally collapsing back onto the futon, ready to catch whatever sleep he could.

---

Somewhere in Nevada...

Meanwhile.

---

It was a regular day like any other in Nevada Central.

The metropolis buzzed with life as men, women, and children moved through the grey maze of buildings. Cars zipped along the streets, engines humming a familiar tune as they navigated to various destinations. Occasionally, a driver would honk at a pedestrian who dared to cross without looking both ways. Hot dog vendors served lines of hungry customers while others indulged in burgers from nearby restaurants. Shoppers browsed through the latest fashions and gadgets in the stores while showing off their newest, colorful dyes, enjoying what seemed to be an unusually peaceful day.

No Zeds prowled the streets. The sun still hung high, keeping the Vampires at bay, and the local gangs were, for once, minding their own business. Remarkably, no one was causing any trouble, and the usual undercurrent of tension that gripped the city was strangely absent.

It was as close to tranquility as Nevada Central ever got.

And then, the ground shook.

It started as a low rumble, easily mistaken for distant thunder or the vibration of a passing train. But it grew, the tremor intensifying, sending ripples through the pavement and causing windows to rattle in their frames. People stopped in their tracks, their peaceful day shattered as confusion spread through the crowd. Shouts of alarm filled the air as the quake intensified, the ground beneath them buckling and cracking.

And then it was gone.

The rumbling ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving only a few scattered remnants of its brief disruption. A hot dog cart had tipped over, spilling condiments and buns onto the pavement, and newspapers fluttered aimlessly in the air. Some people, momentarily knocked off balance, dusted themselves off and exchanged bewildered glances. But within moments, the city's rhythm resumed. Cars honked, shoppers resumed browsing, and conversations picked up where they had left off.

Nevada Central returned to its daily grind, the strange event fading into the background.

No one realized that this was just the beginning.

---

A/N: Free Grammarly still sucks. I tried the premium free trial but didn't capitalize it enough. In other news, Gundam Breaker 4 came out, and I'm having a blast. It's way better than New Gundam Breaker, that's for damn sure.

Alright, time to answer the latest reviews. I've never done this before, but here we go.

NightHOD: Thanks for the compliment! I mostly rely on the free version of Grammarly, which forces me to improve my writing. It just bugs me whenever I see that yellow line under my sentences. The story might start slow, but it'll gradually build up. It's a slow burn.

TenebrisNick: I appreciate the kind words! Madness Combat and Rosario + Vampire might seem like an unexpected crossover, but here we are. And yes, this is Russell right after his first Imprint, also known as the Noob; he hasn't tackled the other Imprints yet.

Guest: Thank you? I don't know how to respond to that.

Super heavy weapons guy: Yes, I did have a previous story before this one. Honestly, even though it was successful, I wasn't satisfied and felt a bit lost. With the release of Madness: Project Nexus and revisiting the original Rosario + Vampire manga, I found fresh inspiration. I hope you'll support this new version as much as the last one.