From Human to Skeleton: Revived with Infinite System Crystals

Ty glanced down at his white sphere, the number "7" clearly marked on its surface, as Kern showed his, marked "10."

Another man, who had just entered the room, looked at his own sphere and remarked with a hint of resignation, "Ah, bummer. Looks like I am 24. Well, I will see you all later."

Kern's frustration was apparent as he brushed a lock of dark black hair from his eyes. "What does that even mean?" he demanded.

The newcomer, who seemed unfazed by the situation, explained, "Obviously these numbers are meant to help break us up into the groups of 5, seeing as I am 24, I will likely be matched with folks between the range of 20-25, and you both will be 5-10."

"If things make sense at least," he added, before walking off to a corner of the room and taking a seat, his hands buried in the pockets of his new outfit.

Ty pondered the explanation, speaking up to keep the conversation going, "I suppose that would make sense, but nothing concrete yet."

Kern scoffed, shaking his head. "It doesn't make sense; it's just his type of humor to think I'd be paired with a monster such as yourself."

Ty nodded thoughtfully as he processed Kern's insights about the challenges. "I see, any idea on what these challenges or tasks might be? I don't recall reading about them in any of the books?"

Kern scoffed, his tone laced with a mix of resignation and skepticism. "Every year when they want to shake things up a bit, they include things such as 'Challenges' or things to try and get 'us'—this time around, of course—to be distracted with more unexpected moves."

He paused, his gaze flicking around the room as if anticipating the onset of these changes.

"Though usually, it's not as brutal or rewarding as instantly skipping to the next arena, I'm sure there will be some type of catch. Not that I care—you'll probably be jumped the second this event starts."

Ty shrugged, an easy smile playing on his lips despite the grim forecast. "I guess we will see." As Kern walked away to the other side of the room, more people began to trickle in, each holding a number. Continue reading stories on empire

They moved about the room, initiating conversations or joining in with others, the numbers clearly playing a role in their emerging strategies and alliances.

Observing the newcomers, Ty thought to himself, 6 prisoners so far? If not for them being shackled, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

Before Ty realized it, the room had filled up, and he could hardly keep track of anyone. Yet, all the prisoners gradually made their way toward him. Most appeared scared, their bodies subtly shaking as they approached him with a burning question.

"Hey Demon, how are you so calm?" one of them managed to ask.

Ty looked at them, a hint of confusion crossing his features. "Why wouldn't I be?" he replied.

"Well, we're going to be starting soon, and it's likely we're all going to be dead in the next few days at best… I just don't see how you are so calm," the prisoner explained, his voice tinged with fear.

Ty nodded, understanding their concern. "Oh, I guess that makes sense. Well, I don't plan on dying… and neither should any of you… if it happens though, it happens. Don't stress about it until it happens. What number did you 6 draw?"

The prisoners exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them before they each pulled out their orbs. They held them up, revealing their numbers in a line.

17

3

42

40

49

13

Ty nodded in agreement. "Well, let's hope we find out how these groups are going to work soon and then we can stress about other stuff," he said, trying to stay focused amid the growing uncertainty.

As the next hour passed, more and more people filled the area. The room gradually became a vast room of voices as conversations echoed off the walls, the noise level escalating to an almost unbearable degree.

"Ugh, I kind of miss when it was all quiet; now I have to deal with all this noise," Ty complained aloud, his voice carrying a note of irritation.

Just then, a hand landed on his shoulder, and a familiar voice chimed in. "Well, hopefully it won't be too much longer until they come to give us a debrief. I imagine they will starve us a little bit though," said the speaker.

Ty turned around to see the old man from his cell. The man's white hair looked unusually clean, and his eye patch, adorned with purple and black lines, appeared freshly adjusted. Despite the changes, his presence was as imposing as ever.

"Here to tell me more lies, old man?" Ty asked, half-joking yet skeptical of the man's previous tales.

The old man chuckled softly. "Oh come on, they were some fun lies, were they not? And call me Yagrid. I told you that once, I'm pretty sure."

With a sly grin, he added, "Besides, what number did you draw anyways?"

Ty held the orb just above his face, his expression a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. "Seven, what about yourself, old man? Did you lie about the whole stabbing someone's eye out?"

Yagrid laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Haha, looks like I have you beat—I drew number 5."

"I see," Ty mused, scanning the crowded room. "I noticed no one drew over 50, or at least I haven't seen anyone with one..."

"That's because there isn't," Yagrid explained with a knowing nod. "The purple and orange orbs each only go up to 50. Some cute party trick, but yeah, not much else to it."

Ty nodded, accepting the explanation just as the door swung open abruptly. A massive bell was rung, the sound echoing sharply through the vast space.

The noise sent a jolt of pain through Ty's head, cutting off his words. He winced, clutching his ears as another resounding bong filled the room, silencing all conversations instantly.

The sudden quiet that followed the bell's toll was heavy, filled with anticipation and a growing sense of urgency as everyone awaited what was to come next.

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