[Host has encountered node character Grant Ward.
Second world teleportation initiated.] The system’s emotionless voice cut through Luca’s consciousness the instant his hand touched Ward’s.
“Oh, you have got to be—” Ward watched in bewilderment as the young man’s complexion cycled through an impressive spectrum… flushed to pale, pale to ashen.
Some kind of facial kung fu?
A meditation technique?
Luca had no attention to spare for Ward’s confusion.
The transmission had already begun.
[Detected: Host attempting to transport living organisms.] [Consume one Boundary Teleportation Scroll?] Luca blinked.
This was new.
In his first transition, he’d considered bringing someone along, briefly.
But with limited power and uncertain outcomes, he’d decided against experimentation.
His plan had been to test the waters gradually, visit Hell’s Kitchen, find some down-on-their-luck street-level heroes, and see if the system would allow passengers.
Daredevil.
Jessica Jones, pre-trauma.
Someone manageable.
Instead, the system had flagged Grant a genuine bastard by any moral compass as a viable companion.
[Confirmed.
Proceed.] [Host has exceeded transfer capacity.
Teleportation failed.] The familiar dizziness washed over him, accompanied by a surge of profanity that would have impressed sailors.
The system, predictably, remained unmoved by his creative linguistics.
When the spinning stopped, Luca found himself in…
a supermarket?
Rows of shelves stretched in both directions, stocked with ordinary merchandise.
Shoppers stood frozen… a woman reaching for cereal, a man examining canned goods, a child pointing at candy.
Time had stopped, trapping them in ridiculous tableaux.
Luca scanned the faces carefully.
No one familiar.
Then the main mission loaded, and understanding crashed over him like cold water.
[Main Mission: Survive!] [The mist from another dimension has enveloped the town.
Endless monsters lurk within, preparing to slaughter the residents.] [Survive in this dangerous environment.] [Duration: Seven days.] [Base Reward: None.] [Side Objectives: For every ten additional town residents surviving after seven days, receive +1 free attribute point.] [Named Survivors (Bonus Individual Rewards)] [David Drayton and Billy Drayton] [Amanda Dunfrey] [Mrs.
Carmody] [Cashier Sally] [Principal Reppler] [Supermarket Manager Ollie] [Attorney Norton] [Mrs.
Marjorie] The Mist.
He was in The Mist.
Luca processed the implications with growing unease.
The Mist, Luca recalled the film with crystalline clarity.
The setup was deceptively simple, a picturesque American town, shrouded without warning by an otherworldly fog.
Protagonist David Drayton and his young son Billy, trapped alongside assorted townsfolk in the local supermarket.
Outside, creatures from another dimension.
Inside, something equally dangerous, human nature, twisted by fear into paranoia and fanaticism.
Enter Mrs.
Carmody, the firebrand prophetess who declared the apocalypse divine punishment and turned desperate people toward human sacrifice.
The plot followed familiar horror beats until its infamous ending.
After countless near-death escapes, David finally reached his car with Billy and three survivors.
They fled into the mist with hope.
Then the gasoline ran out.
Surrounded by monstrous roars in the impenetrable fog, David made an impossible choice.
Four bullets.
Four people to save from what awaited.
He did what he believed was merciful.
When he stepped out to face his own end, the fog began to lift.
Military vehicles rolled through.
Soldiers restored order.
The roars he’d heard were not monsters closing in, but creatures being cut down by army flamethrowers.
David had killed his son and everyone else, minutes before rescue arrived.
A cruel joke from the director.
A punchline that transformed a standard monster movie into something far more devastating.
Low budget.
Minimal special effects.
The creatures remained mostly obscured, their threat suggested rather than shown.
The real horror unfolded among the living.
Internet analysts had dissected it endlessly, elevating an unremarkable film to “Cthulhu Mythos masterpiece” through elaborate theories and enthusiastic overinterpretation.
Fans found meaning everywhere, constructing justifications that made Luca want to curse their mothers.
But now he was in it.
“Seven days.” He studied the mission parameters with growing unease.
“Four days longer than the original timeline.” In the film, the military counterattack began on day three.
Apocalypse averted.
The system had other plans.
The zero-point base reward confirmed his suspicion, simple survival was achievable.
The system expected him to manage that much.
But Luca wanted more.
HYDRA had already marked him.
Grant Ward’s visit was only the beginning.
If he entered that relationship weak, he’d be consumed, a useful tool for fanatics.
He needed leverage.
Thirty free attribute points waited in this supermarket.
Thirty.
That kind of boost would put him in Captain America’s weight class.
Not the movie version with plot armor, perhaps, but the comic-book physical specimen who could bench-press tanks.
Of course, thirty points required every single person in the supermarket to survive.
Every.
Single.
Person.
In a horror scenario where fear turned neighbors into mobs, and monsters picked off the unwary.
Luca exhaled slowly.
“Let’s set a small goal first, ten points.”