Banished by Unknown Forces, I Rise to Crush Their Dominion

Anys' POV

"Ouch!" I hissed, rubbing the fresh bump on my head. These "Nimbus Boots" I'd received as my A-grade reward were clearly no joke. If the ceiling hadn't stopped me, I might've launched straight through the roof. Grumbling under my breath, I flopped onto the bed, letting my body sink into the lumpy mattress.

There wasn't much going on in my personal life, at least not beyond my brother, Thadric. I didn't have many friends or family back on Earth—just him. So I guess I was used to feeling alone. Still, I found my mind wandering to what Thadric might be doing right now. That smug grin he'd worn after getting his S-grade reward was proof enough he was practically bursting with pride.

Then, as if on cue, my thoughts drifted to Light. "He really looks like my friend from the past," I muttered, which only annoyed me more. I smacked my hand against my face, trying to wipe away the memory. "Why am I even thinking about that lowlife? Even if he resembles him, his personality is nowhere close. My friend was way more…" I didn't get to finish that thought.

A sharp, crackling announcement burst from the speaker on the wall:

"Attention, all participants. Gather in the main room immediately. Failure to comply will result in your alien taking control. I will not repeat myself."

"Great," I groaned, pushing myself off the bed. "No rest for the wicked, I guess." The last thing I wanted was to give the alien inside me an excuse to hijack my body. With a resigned sigh, I headed for the door, boots in hand.

Thadric's POV

How can a human have no weak points at all? The question echoed in my mind as I observed a certain young man with a black katana and a dark bandana draped around his neck. My new S-grade glasses—though I wasn't sure if the "S-grade" label was an alien convention or a true mark of quality—were supposed to reveal any physical vulnerabilities in living beings. Yet here I was, staring at him for a good five minutes, and the lenses showed nothing.

He had long black hair, a slender build, not much visible muscle definition. Despite that, the glasses gave no sign of a single weak point. It was almost eerie, like his entire body was somehow shielded from my analysis. He reminded me of Light in passing, but Light certainly didn't have this kind of presence—an intense aura that hinted at hidden depths.

Suddenly, a loud, boisterous voice shattered my concentration. A big man in gym clothes stomped up to the katana-wielding stranger. I had no idea who he was—just that he seemed to think he could befriend everyone by being obnoxiously loud.

"Hey, you!" the man in gym clothes called out, pointing dramatically. "Did you lose a bet and have to wear your grandmother's wardrobe, or is that neckpiece your idea of fashion?"

I blinked. Is this guy for real? My curiosity piqued, I turned my glasses on him, only to see his entire body glow bright red—head to toe. That meant every part of him was a weak point. I stifled a laugh. Well, that fits.

The katana-wielding man didn't respond; he just stared back, eyes cold and unreadable. The tension in the hallway rose, thick enough to choke on. Before anything escalated, though, a sharp crackle came over the speakers, followed by the tall woman's authoritative voice ordering us to the main room.

I sighed, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Whatever's happening, it can't be good news.

Light's POV

I was already searching for Anys and Thadric, but the skyscraper's loudspeakers crackled to life before I could find them. The tall woman's voice boomed, echoing through every corridor.

"Good job surviving this far," she said, her tone carrying zero warmth despite the words. "I hope you'll manage to stay alive for what's coming, but don't think it will get any easier. We have a total of fifty-eight people here. Every group except one succeeded in the first task, and that group will now face the consequences mentioned by the robot."

A wave of tension rippled through the crowd as we all converged in the main room. I slipped off to one side, trying to see past the shifting mass of bodies. The tall woman stood near a massive monitor, her posture rigid, eyes sweeping over us like we were mere data points.

The screen lit up, listing seventy-seven names. Nineteen were highlighted in red, presumably those who'd died in the arena, leaving fifty-eight in green. I spotted Ramis among the survivors. "How the hell did that guy survive?" I muttered under my breath. "And where'd they even get a photo of me?" The image next to my name on the screen looked almost like a mug shot, complete with a glare I didn't remember giving.

Then four names appeared in orange. They had to be the group that failed. The tall woman cleared her throat. "As for the consequence: in the next game, one member of that failing group will be designated as a 'ticket.' If any other team kills that 'ticket,' they finish the game early. The rest of you continue under the main rules."

I felt a cold pit form in my stomach. Another kill scenario. The expressions around me suggested I wasn't the only one who'd hoped we were done with these lethal missions. But here we were again.

"The group can choose which member will be the victim," she went on. Right then, a lone figure with a black katana stepped forward and raised his hand. The tall woman quirked an eyebrow. "You're volunteering yourself as your group's ticket?" she asked. He merely nodded, offering no explanation. She shrugged. "So be it."

Her voice then rose another notch, reverberating through the main hall. "The rules are simple: protect your teammates from being killed. If one of your teammates dies your group will be disqualified forcing you to die on the spot. Or, if you want to take a shortcut, kill the designated ticket. However, only twenty-eight of you can ultimately win, and there will be no food or water sources provided in this next challenge. The game begins now. You will be teleported into a desert at random locations."

My heart hammered in my chest. No food or water? And we're supposed to kill or not kill some designated target, all while only a fraction of us can survive? I caught sight of a few relieved faces—people who might've misheard the rules at first. But that relief vanished the moment they realized the implications. A desert, no supplies, only partial winners. It sounded like a slow, painful death sentence for many of us.

I tried to glance around for Anys or Thadric, but before I could even call out to them, reality itself seemed to shatter. The room around me broke apart like shards of glass, and I felt my body jerk as though pulled through a vortex.

In the blink of an eye, I found myself somewhere else entirely different. The sky was dusty red, and the ground was hot sand that shifted under my feet. A scorching wind whipped across my face, forcing me to shield my eyes with my arm.

I turned slowly, taking in my surroundings. The desert stretched out in every direction, flat and endless. If there were other people here, they were too far away to see clearly. The horizon wavered in the heat, making everything look like a mirage.