Utopian System

Chaos erupted in an instant.

A blood-curdling scream shattered the group's concentration. As they whirled around, a nightmarish scene unfolded before their eyes. One of their own, the wall-builder, was trapped in the merciless grasp of a Locus.

No one had seen where the monster had emerged from, its sudden appearance a terrifying mystery.

The group watched in horror as their comrade struggled vainly against the Locus's iron grip.

Bones crackled under the pressure, his arms pinned uselessly to his sides, preventing him from summoning his magic. The panic in his eyes was palpable, his breath coming in short, pained gasps.

"No!" The bearer of the Emblem of Power roared, his voice laden with desperation and fury.

Without hesitation, he unleashed a barrage of attacks, expending all the mana he had accumulated. Attacks illuminated the cavern with blinding flashes, each one amplified by his emblem's power. One, two, three double-value attacks slammed into the Locus.

But the monster didn't fall.

It should have received 8 attacks, plus 3 double attacks - 14 hits in total.

Yet the Locus seemed to absorb the damage as if it were nothing, its grip on the victim not loosening even a millimeter.

The Locus, apparently irritated by the constant bombardment, brought its jaws closer to its prey's neck. Its teeth, sharp as blades, gleamed with a sinister light.

"It should have fallen by now!" someone shouted, disbelief mixing with terror in their voice.

"Stop!" Another group member cried out, launching an individual attack in a desperate attempt to save their companion.

Right, they should have prepared for 15 attacks, one of them thought grimly.

But at that moment, the group realized with mounting horror that even their worst expectations had fallen short. They had been prepared for fifteen attacks, but even that wasn't enough.

Fifteen hits, and the Locus still stood.

Time seemed to slow as they watched, helpless, as the Locus closed its jaws around their companion's neck.

It didn't matter that the victim was level 6, nor that his base defense was too. The Locus's strength was simply superior, on a scale they hadn't anticipated.

What they didn't know, what they couldn't have known, was that these Locus didn't have a strength of 10, but of 15.

The sound of the neck breaking echoed through the cavern, a crack that chilled the blood of all present. In an instant, their companion's head separated from his body.

The group stood paralyzed, unable to process what they had just witnessed. The system armor, so reliable until now, could do nothing. Without a head, there was no possible healing.

Their companion was dead.

The Locus, still holding the lifeless body, seemed to look directly at the group. Its eyes glowed with malevolent intelligence, as if it perfectly understood what it had just done and the impact it would have on its opponents.

Fury and desperation mingled in another companion's attack, a blow charged with pain and rage. The impact resonated in the cavern, and finally, after 16 devastating attacks, the Locus fell.

Sixteen. The number etched itself into their minds, a cruel reminder of how underestimated these monsters had been.

But there was no time for lamentations. The danger was imminent, and survival instinct took over.

"Run!" one of them shouted, his voice cracking with fear and adrenaline.

They began to move, needing to continue running around the chamber surrounding the Locus or risk being surrounded themselves.

But what they saw left them paralyzed for an instant.

A Locus appeared in front of them. Then another. And another. In a matter of seconds, they found themselves blocked by a dozen monsters.

"Behind us!" someone warned, their voice choked with panic.

They turned, only to see more Locus approaching from the rear. The encirclement was closing rapidly.

But how?

How had the Locus reached them if the carbon walls were still standing?

A deafening roar filled the air. Instinctively, they looked up. What they saw gave them the answer.

The Locus were jumping.

These weren't simple leaps like the ones they made to reach the wall, as they had seen before. These were powerful jumps that elevated them to impossible heights. From the air, the monsters located them with terrifying precision.

"They can see us!" one shouted, the realization hitting them all.

The strategy they had perfected, which had served them so well until now, was crumbling before their eyes. The Locus were no longer running after them; they were jumping, planning, attacking from all directions.

"To the tunnel!" the bearer of the Emblem of Power ordered, his voice charged with urgency. "It's our only way out!"

But the path was blocked.

More and more Locus arrived, closing off any escape route. In a desperate attempt to buy time, they began to raise carbon walls around themselves.

Soon they found themselves enclosed in a box of their own creation, the roars of the Locus resonating menacingly from the outside.

"Up!" someone shouted. "Attack upwards!"

Combo after combo was launched into the air, explosions of energy illuminating the cavern. Some Locus fell, but they seemed to be instantly replaced by others.

Sixteen hits were too many; with one less and creating so many walls, the mana wouldn't be enough.

Panic threatened to overtake them. They were trapped, outnumbered, facing a threat that surpassed everything they had imagined.

It was then that one of them, with a trembling but determined voice, proposed a desperate plan:

"We have to run straight to the tunnel," he said. "Let's eliminate the Locus in our path and absorb the walls with our elephants. The summons can stop those coming from behind, even if just for a moment."

They looked at each other, fear and doubt reflected in their eyes. But they knew they had no other choice. It was that or perish in this carbon box.

"It's madness," one murmured.

"It's our only chance," another responded.

With a collective nod, they made their decision. It was time to go all in.

"On the count of three," said the bearer of the Emblem of Power. "One... two... THREE!"

The carbon walls vanished, absorbed by their elephants. The group launched forward like an arrow, unleashing individual magical attacks, their minds focused on a single objective:

Survival.

It was a desperate race against time, every step bringing them closer to either salvation or doom.

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