Grind to Glory

[Minor Stamina Upgrade Applied]

Stamina: 4 → 6Endurance during physical activity has increased.

"Not bad," Noah muttered, flexing his fingers as he felt the energy flowing through him. "Still hurts like hell, though."

The fresh memory of his fight with the lesser aberration lingered. The creature's grotesque, twitching form and the sound of its piercing shrieks still sent a chill down his spine. That thing had come out of nowhere, its glowing eyes locking onto him like prey. Without the Grindstone guiding his instincts, he would have been nothing more than a smear on the pavement.

He glanced at the faint blue glow of the Grindstone in his palm. For something so small, it carried an overwhelming presence. This thing had already turned his life upside down in less than a day. What more could it do?

"New threat neutralized. Host progress accelerating as predicted," the Grindstone's voice chimed in, calm as ever.

"Daily training log updated. Minor progress recorded in combat proficiency and stamina capacity."

Noah groaned. "Can you just talk like a normal person? What does that even mean?"

"It means you are improving, Host," the voice replied. "However, improvement will only continue with further tasks and consistent effort. New quest will be issued shortly."

Before Noah could respond, a flickering shape in his peripheral vision caught his attention. His eyes snapped to the edge of the street, where a faint shimmer hung in the air, almost like heat rising from asphalt. It wavered for a moment before disappearing completely.

"What the hell was that?" Noah whispered, gripping the Grindstone tightly. His newfound stamina was useful, but he wasn't ready for another fight so soon.

"Residual anomaly detected," the Grindstone announced. "Faint traces of aberrant energy remain in the vicinity. Likelihood of additional encounters: Moderate."

"Great," Noah muttered, rubbing his temples. "So, what, more of those things could pop out at any time?"

"Correct. However, Host's stamina reserves and combat instincts are sufficient for current threat levels."

"Gee, thanks for the confidence boost," Noah said sarcastically. He scanned his surroundings, the quiet street suddenly feeling far more dangerous. Every shadow seemed deeper, every noise sharper. Was that faint rustling just the wind, or something worse?

He shook his head, forcing himself to move. Standing still wasn't going to help. If there were more of those things out there, he needed to be ready—and that meant finding somewhere safe to regroup. Preferably with fewer glowing-eyed monstrosities.

Noah's apartment was a dingy studio on the fifth floor of a crumbling building, but it felt like a fortress compared to the streets outside. He locked the door behind him, sliding the deadbolt into place before collapsing onto the worn-out couch. The Grindstone's voice had gone quiet for now, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He stared at the glowing object in his hand, the intricate symbols etched into its surface almost hypnotic. This little stone had saved his life tonight—twice. But it had also thrown him into a world he didn't understand, filled with monsters, cryptic quests, and a voice that seemed to know more about him than he knew about himself.

"What are you, really?" Noah asked aloud, turning the stone over in his hands. He didn't expect an answer, but the Grindstone surprised him.

"I am a system designed to facilitate growth and adaptation in chosen Hosts. My purpose is to ensure the survival and evolution of the Host through structured challenges and progressive enhancement."

"Right," Noah said. "But why me? I'm not exactly survival-of-the-fittest material."

The Grindstone didn't respond immediately, and for a moment, Noah thought it was ignoring him. But then it spoke again, its tone oddly neutral.

"Selection criteria are not determined by physical or societal status. Potential for growth is the primary metric. You possess this potential, even if you are currently unaware of it."

Noah snorted. "That's a fancy way of saying I suck now but might suck less later."

The Grindstone didn't dignify that with a response.

The next morning, Noah woke to the sound of his phone vibrating against the coffee table. Groaning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for it, expecting another rejection email or a bill he couldn't pay. Instead, the screen displayed an unknown number.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"Is this Noah Greene?" a woman's voice asked. It was brisk and professional, with a slight edge that put him on guard.

"Uh… yeah. Who's asking?"

"My name is Alice Mathers," the woman said. "I work with the Department of Paranormal Regulation."

Noah blinked. "The… what?"

"I'm sure you've got a lot of questions," Alice continued, her tone leaving no room for argument. "But here's the short version: You had an encounter with a lesser aberration last night. We know because we monitor these incidents. I'm calling to make sure you're not dead—or worse."

"How do you even know about that?" Noah asked, his heart racing. "And what do you mean, 'worse'?"

"Trust me, you don't want to find out," Alice said. "Look, we can go over the details in person. There's a diner on 12th and Main. Meet me there in an hour."

"Wait—why should I even—"

The line went dead.

Noah stared at his phone, his mind racing. Who the hell was this woman? And what was the "Department of Paranormal Regulation"? Was it even real, or was this some kind of elaborate scam?

He glanced at the Grindstone, still faintly glowing on the coffee table. Whatever was happening to him, it was bigger than he realized. And if this Alice Mathers had answers, he needed to hear them—whether he trusted her or not.

End of Chapter 6.