Varun POV

  The group of four stopped in the clearing, their formation breaking as the man in the light green jacket moved toward a tree off to the side. Varun stayed at the back, letting the others drift forward while he watched their flanks. A horizontal scar ran across its trunk. It was not deep, just a clean strip where moss refused to grow or was missing.

  “What is it, Sid?” Varun called out from the back. Bringing up the rear had become his role, with no one needing to say it. When they first entered this place, he had walked at the front without hesitation. Now, someone else fit that role better, and Varun adjusted without complaint.

  “Looks like they set up a trap here.” Sid stepped away from the tree, his eyes moving across the ground, then lifting to the surrounding brush.

  “That’s the second trap in twenty minutes.” Rohan spoke from Varun’s left. His face looked drawn, eyes dull in a way that suggested a restless night.

  His voice sounded rough, and Varun noticed how Rohan avoided meeting Sid’s eyes. Instead, he glanced at Pallavi, as if hoping she would say something first.

  “That means we’re on the right path.” Varun spoke before he thought too much about it. The words sounded sharper than he intended, but Rohan’s attitude had been grating on his nerves for some time.

  Rohan never argued directly anymore. He just chipped away with comments, letting frustration seep through instead of stating it outright.

  Sid had already made the stakes clear earlier. If the goblins caught their trail, the camp would not stand a chance. Varun remembered how Sid framed it, calm and precise, leaving little room for disagreement. That was how they ended up retracing the path taken by the goblins the day before instead of heading straight back, choosing distance and caution over speed.

  Varun saw the pattern clearly now. He caught it only because he had been wary of Sid from the start.

  Sid had leaned on Rohan’s guilt from collapsing in their last fight, from being a burden when it mattered most. Then, he had layered in concern, suggesting the goblins could follow their tracks straight back to camp. It was enough to make Rohan agree to stay out longer, even though he had argued hard to leave the day before.

  “Yeah, let’s follow their trail till afternoon.” Sid looked at each of them, lingering just long enough to register their expressions. He always did that. “Once we’re far enough down, we break off and head back to camp.”

  Varun met Sid’s eyes briefly, then looked away. He did not trust that promise. Sid looked the same as he always had, but the confidence in his movements, his sudden effectiveness in combat, and his knowledge of skills did not line up with the man Varun thought he knew.

  “We still haven’t found an unsprung trap yet,” Varun said, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had finally raised his skill to level twenty, and every second without progress made the wait to Tier 1 feel longer.

  He had always thought he would handle an apocalypse better than your average protagonist. He had read enough stories to know the patterns and shortcuts heroes stumbled into. None of that happened to him. There was nothing special about his start—no unique skill, no quests, no hidden advantage that set him apart either.

  Sid stood in sharp contrast to that. His best friend had changed almost overnight. Sid cut through monsters like weeds in a field, moved with confidence Varun did not remember, and spoke with odd but fitting phrases. When Sid talked about skills, it was with the confidence of a teacher, not a peer. Everything about him screamed regressor, someone who had already lived through this once.

  Sid took a sip of water from his backpack before turning to face Varun. “Let’s not wait until we find a live trap. It could delay us.” His eyes slid briefly to Rohan. Varun caught the shift in Rohan’s posture when he realized Sid wanted to head back sooner. “You don’t need a skill crystal to level, right? You could try the normal route, or even test using multiple skills together.”

  Varun felt his jaw tighten. Sid never ordered them outright. He guided, nudged, and suggested. Did Sid really think they could not see what he was doing?

  If Varun had thought Sid was putting them at risk, he would have spoken up. The memory of their last fight still burned. It had not even been a surprise attack. They had gone in planning to ambush the enemy, but Sid’s plan had fallen apart. Still, aside from that failure, Sid had always focused on keeping them alive while pushing them forward.

  Rohan struck the ground twice with his spear. “There is no time to train now. We’ll push further and circle back in a couple of hours.”

  Varun shot Rohan a look. He was not about to start training just because Sid implied it. He also did not like how Rohan sounded, as if Varun needed to be steered.

  “Yes, let’s not rush things,” Sid said, stepping between them. His presence was deliberate, blocking lines of sight, cutting off escalation. “We might get you another movement skill before you reach Tier 1.”

  Varun bit down hard and exhaled. He hated being handled carefully, as if his temper were a live wire. He feared the day they’d decide he was too much to manage.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  His friends had always known how to read him better than his parents ever did. Sid and Jacky had always been there. During Covid, during failed papers, during nights when he just needed to talk, they were there. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being just friends and became his family. It was why Sid’s radio silence after graduation hurt more than he’d like to admit.

  “Alright, let’s go,” Varun said, keeping his tone even. He did not want to reinforce the idea his teammates had formed, that he was volatile or unpredictable.

  As they moved, Sid’s suggestion resurfaced in his mind. Adding more skills together sounded logical on the surface, but the risks were real. If skill evolution was more rigid than they believed, or required rare triggers, then experimenting could cost him his only chance to advance beyond Tier 0.

  Sid advanced by prodding the ground ahead with his spear before placing each foot. The process reduced their speed to a crawl. Varun did not like it one bit, but knew it was necessary.

  Rohan followed Sid’s lead, copying the motions with less confidence. Varun studied him. His former boss carried authority out of habit, not ability, though his concern for others was genuine, more than Varun once thought possible.

  Pallavi walked on Rohan’s right. Her gait was steady, hands gripping the straps of her backpack, shoulders forward, head slightly down. Her gaze followed Sid’s steps. She did not check for traps herself, only stepping where Sid had already stepped.

  Her strength allowed her to shoulder the heaviest load. They packed the camouflage net inside her bag, while the others split the provisions among their backpacks—food, water, spare clothes, weapons.

  Pallavi glanced back at Varun for a moment before facing forward again. He caught himself staring and felt a flicker of embarrassment. So, women's intuition might be real after all. He wondered if she could sense monsters staring, or if it was just men?

  Her increased strength made her far more useful, both in battle and outside it. He should have been able to do the same with his increased agility. Instead, he could not find a direct use for it, apart from beating Sid in a race for the first time in his life.

  “Where do you guys think the army was going?” Varun asked. The question hung between them. He listened closely, looking forward to Sid’s answer more than anyone else’s.

  If he set aside the slip-up in the last fight, every other piece of evidence pointed toward Sid being a regressor. Varun recognized the danger in his thinking. A part of him wanted the answer to be yes, because it would explain too much.

  That was why put the idea to the test, or rather a series of tests, instead of trusting it. One action meant nothing. A pattern meant everything.

  If Sid led them back toward camp, as Rohan clearly preferred, that weakened the theory. If Sid chose a different path, one that carried risk but promised long-term gain, that strengthened it. Varun tracked the possibilities silently.

  “Before we came across that trap, I noticed webbing high in the trees, so this area should be part of a spider colony or something.” Sid scanned the surroundings, including the canopy, as he spoke, his pace slowing. “They wanted to capture spiders as mounts, so they must be heading deeper into the colony.”

  “Would be nice if we had one of those spiders,” Pallavi said, half-joking as she stopped and dropped her pack. “Could carry all this. Need a breather. It’s heavier than it looks.”

  Sid halted and looked around the clearing, searching for anything out of place. “Okay.” He lowered his backpack and spear, then picked the spear up again, grip tightening.

  Varun stepped closer, instincts flaring. “What’s up?”

  “Come with me,” Sid said, already turning away from the path they had been following.

  Varun followed without a word. Pallavi and Rohan followed, alert now, leaving their packs behind and gripping their weapons.

  After about a dozen steps, it became clear what had alerted Sid. Another trap. This one was active—a boar lashed at the center, wedged between a rock and a tree.

  Sid raised his hand, stopping them. He used the same crude but effective method to deal with the trap, swinging a long spear in wide arcs around the bait.

  Sid leapt back as the trap triggered, jolting the boar awake from its stupor. Varun would have sworn it was closer to bacon than alive, but it thrashed wildly, trying to free itself.

  Sid did not hesitate. He stepped in and buried a knife in its brain.

  That was another thing that unsettled Varun about Sid. It was not just how often Sid killed, but how he did it. Every strike ended the same way. Knife to the eyes, ears, or neck. It felt practiced, ingrained, like muscle memory built over years.

  “It’s Dash again.” Sid held up the crystal, his voice steady and flat. There was no excitement in his tone, no satisfaction at finding something valuable. If anything, Sid sounded faintly disappointed, as if he had hoped for a different outcome.

  “Looks like you’re in luck.” Rohan sent a light punch into Varun’s shoulder.

  Pallavi closed the distance as Sid handed Varun the skill crystal. The moment his fingers closed around it, the system notification appeared.

  Varun waited, expecting more. In the stories he had read, the system always followed up with options, explanations, hints. Nothing came. The message hung there, stark and unhelpful. The disappointment settled heavy like a stone in his chest.

  Instead of choosing yes, Varun lifted his gaze to Sid. If the system would not guide him, maybe Sid would. If Sid really was what Varun suspected, then this was the moment to see it.

  Sid returned his gaze, along with a poker face.

  If you know something, give me a hint, you bastard, Varun thought.

  “I’ll hold on to it for now,” Varun said, his voice steady. “There’s no need to rush. I might get another level through practice.”

  For an instant, Sid’s expression cracked. The corner of his lip lifted before he smoothed it away.

  “Yeah, it might be better if you level up Quickstep too.” Sid had a small smile on his face. “You could even try using both skills at the same time.”

  That was the second time. Varun felt certain now. Using both skills together was not a casual suggestion. It was the key.

  He could test it right now and confirm whether Sid’s knowledge held true, but there was no urgency. When it came to skills, Sid had not been wrong yet.