They packed into the warehouse until the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of muffled whispers. The heat of so many bodies pressed close left no empty space to pretend otherwise.People stood shoulder to shoulder between pallets and scaffolding, families clustered together, crafters gripping bags that held nothing useful, adventurers restless and bouncing on their feet like motion could burn off fear. Voices stayed low. No one shouted. The kind of quiet that came from too many people waiting for the same thing.Harold stood at the center.He didn't separate himself, watching as people tried to relax.Sarah was on his left, wooden practice sword slung across her back, hair tied tight, eyes bright in a way that wasn't nerves so much as focus. Beth stood on his right, calm and watchful, one hand resting lightly on Josh's arm when his leg started to bounce too hard. Harold still thought it was strange that people insisted on holding onto supplies, even though he told them nothing would transfer with them.Josh leaned in slightly. "You know," he said, forcing a grin, "if this doesn't work, this is a really weird way to spend a Friday night."Harold laughed. "I don't know, I think we spent stranger evenings." Thinking back to his college days.Sarah looked between them. "You're both idiots.""That's fair," Josh agreed. "But you love me."Harold checked his watch for the last time. Then he didn't look at it again.Around them, the air felt dense as people instinctively shifted closer, drawn by an unspoken force. Hands found shoulders while fingers hooked into sleeves. These moments formed chains, linking them organically and branching outward from the center, as if they pulsed with a collective heartbeat. The scene was both eerie and hypnotic, a silent testament to their shared anticipation.They'd practiced this part. Five minutes. Touch mattered; they wouldn't transfer if they didn't.Then the air changed.It wasn't loud. There was no wind, no flash. Just a pressure behind the eyes, like the moment before a headache decided whether it would stay or bloom.And then it was there.A translucent pane of light hovered in the air, visible to everyone at once. Text burned across it, precise and indifferent.EARTH DESTRUCTION IS IMMINENT.CONTINUITY OF SPECIES HAS BEEN AUTHORIZED.POPULATION TRANSFER TO DESIGNATED CRUCIBLE WORLD INITIATED.A murmur rippled through the warehouse. Not screams, but there surely were elsewhere. Just breathe, leaving bodies all at once.Harold felt Sarah's fingers tighten around his wrist.The text shifted.THIS ACTION IS ENERGY-INTENSIVE.ENERGY DEBT WILL BE REPAID THROUGH SERVICE.PARTICIPATION IS MANDATORY.Josh swallowed. "Well," he said softly, "that answers a few questions."The final line appeared, pulsing faintly.YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO PREPARE.A countdown began.04:5904:58"Alright," Harold said, voice carrying without effort. "Everyone, hold on. Do not let go. If you can reach someone, do it now."People moved fast then. Arms stretched. Hands clasped. Someone stumbled and was pulled upright without comment. The chains tightened, bodies pressing closer as if distance itself had become dangerous.Sarah leaned in close, voice low. "You ready?"Harold smiled at her, wide and unguarded. "I've been ready for twenty years. The question...little sister. Are you ready?" He said, smiling down at her.The timer ticked down.04:1204:11Beth's eyes met his. No fear there. Just trust.Josh let out a shaky breath and laughed under it. "Next round's on me."The light brightened. The warehouse dissolved.And the world ended, exactly as promised.________________________________________________________________________Harold did not arrive with the others.He stood alone.There was no warehouse or hands to hold. No familiar weight of bodies pressed close, and no Sarah. For a moment, he almost panicked.The space around him was empty in a way that felt intentional. Just absent. A holding room stripped of context and comfort, existing only to make decisions feel heavier.Three panels floated in front of him. He recognized them instantly. He had seen these before.ADVENTURERCRAFTERLORDLast time, there had been relief in the choice. A sense of purpose. He'd told himself that making things was safer. That being useful was protection. This is where every confused person had made a choice, only this time, his group had a warning, and they were organized.Then he remembered the chair bolted to the floor.The glass walls.The cutters…Harold's jaw tightened."Not again," he said quietly.He stepped forward and placed his hand against LORD.The panel vanished the moment he touched it. The others followed, dissolving into nothing as they'd never existed.Pressure swept through him.ROLE CONFIRMED: LORDINITIAL EVALUATION IN PROGRESSThe floor ceased to exist.Stone slammed into being beneath his boots. Wind tore at his cloak as sound rushed back all at once. Metal rang. Voices shouted. The air reeked of oil, sweat, and smoke. In the distance, the rhythmic thud of a colossal drop hammer echoed, a peculiar sound that seemed oddly persistent despite the chaos. It was a sound that branded this war-torn city as unique, reverberating like a heartbeat within its stone walls.Harold stood on a wall.A real one.Below him, a mountain city clung to sheer stone faces, its buildings carved and stacked rather than constructed. Narrow roads wound downward into fog-choked passes. Banners snapped violently in the wind, sigils unfamiliar but freshly repaired.Soldiers surrounded him. Not NPCs or placeholders.Veterans in this made-up scenario.A man in a crested helm turned sharply at Harold's appearance. His hand twitched toward his sword, then stopped as recognition snapped into place. His armour is reminiscent of a medieval knight's."My Lord," the officer said, dropping to one knee.Others followed immediately.Harold took it in without reaction. The armor and spacing. The discipline.Last time, the prospective Lords fumbled this part. Who can prepare for being thrust into a war like that with no prep? Who would win in a scenario like that, and even less would do well in this situation.Someone on the forums did the numbers last time, and only about 30% of the prospective lords passed this trial. Many, many more people picked Lord than the other two Roles. Who wouldn't want to be a master of their own future? They were just lucky there wasnt a test for the other Roles. But the vast majority of people failed this test. It was too brutal. It was the first harrowing experience they went through.Harold looked out over the city, confirming it still matched what he read about in the forum last time. There was a secret in the scenario that only a couple of people figured out last time. They ended up being some of the most successful lords, but none of them managed a perfect clear, and that was his goal.Disciplined and measured footsteps approached from behind him."My Lord," another officer said, stepping to Harold's side and offering a crisp salute rather than a kneel. Older. A scar across his cheek. The kind of man who had survived long enough to stop advertising it."We've completed the full count."Harold didn't turn yet. "Go on.""The enemy force advancing through the lower pass numbers approximately ten thousand," the officer said. "Heavy infantry. Knights in full plate, supported by mounted elements. They're moving with purpose, this isnt a raid."Harold finally looked at him."Siege assets?" he asked."Yes, my Lord. Two siege beasts confirmed. Large and armored. Used for gate breaches. We've also identified at least six ranged and mobile siege engines. Likely stone throwers. Possibly fire."That matched from last time. Relief swept through him. It was a worry that things would change."Time to contact?""Less than an hour," the officer said. "They'll reach effective siege range sooner if unopposed."Harold looked back out over the pass through the fog; the beginning portions of the army were beginning to poke through."Status of our earth crafters," Harold said.The older officer hesitated just long enough to give the answer weight. "Limited, my Lord. Twenty-three are assigned to mining and reinforcement. Most can shift stone, clear seams, and reinforce supports. A few can do more, but none I'd call… exceptional."Harold nodded.Most Lords failed here because they misunderstood scale and just what was possible in this new world. Crafters weren't mage, though it was easy to be confused. They couldn't raise mountains or crush armies outright. Last time, a few Lords had tried rockslides. Although effective, they were never decisive, as the mass was too great for the crafters to move, and they lacked the proper leverage.Even as a child, Harold had understood the power of flowing water. He'd once watched a small river carve a new path through soil with nothing more than its relentless current, transforming the landscape over time. Every kid who had a hose had done the same thing. Perhaps it was that memory which sparked the realization that water didn't need to be lifted; it only needed a path through which to flow, or it would make one."Bring me every earth-capable crafter in the city," Harold said. "Not just assigned crafters. Anyone who can feel stone with their perks. Civilians included."The officer blinked. "My Lord, that will strip—""Do it," Harold said calmly. "Now."He turned, already issuing the next command. "Get them onto the lifts. All of them. The mountain lake above the pass. I want them working the outlet, not the basin. I want them to create a channel for that water to flow onto that army."Realization flickered across the officer's face. The horns shifted tone as orders relayed outward."And the signal?" the younger soldier asked.Harold looked back toward the pass. The enemy vanguard was clearer now. Heavy armor. Banners. Knights who believed they were marching toward another frozen Lord. They were still about an hour out from the walls."When you see a full volley of fire arrows from the wall," Harold said, "that's the signal. Release the lake."The officer's jaw tightened. "That amount of water—""Will break their formation," Harold said. "It won't kill all of them. That's not the goal."It would also ruin this city in the future, but he wasn't concerned about that. He just needed the best clear he could get, then all this wouldn't matter.He turned sharply. "Ready the gates. I want a sortie the moment the flood hits. Strongest units up front."The scarred man stepped forward, grin gone now. "You expect survivors?""I expect the siege beasts to survive," Harold said. "And their elite. They'll be disorganized. Wet and furious. That's when we hit them.""The archers?" the officer asked."Armor-piercing arrows only. They can move with the sortie," Harold replied. "Use them until we run dry. Save nothing."The officer nodded once, then turned to shout orders.Harold watched the fog churn as the army continued its advance, unaware that the mountain above them was already being prepared. The crafters should barely be able to complete their work in time.Most lords attempted to defend the walls, and most of them failed. The siege beasts were too powerful, and they didn't have the time to realize that people here had abilities that weren't natural.He watched the army approach and his people scramble to get into position and waited for the right moment.
