For the three following days, the teens stayed home.

In affluent and populated places, the situation seemed stable. Nothing alarming was reported, apart from a few misdemeanours. Therefore, there was no longer any reason to take shelter. At least, that was the case for Anastasia and Fabrice. Since the thrill of his birthday had subsided, Loris lived like a shut-in. He had no one to talk to, and no one wanted to talk to him. Even in normal times, he wouldn't leave the house if it wasn't for his little solitary excursions in the silver city.

The Noflo algorithm only recommended six hours of daily training with his two modules. As he had nothing else to do but alternate training and leisure activities, he spent the rest of his time having fun, returning to his old habits. It was important for his mental health, after all.

The two others competed in many competitions in their area of expertise: archery and athletics. Historically, these two spent their lives training and competing, but now it was getting sickening. He barely saw them when they came home to say hello.

Following this routine, a month passed.

Although they had learned and earned a lot of information and money, it was never enough. More and more problems piled up.

Even though Anastasia—still a minor—was excelling on the European stage, Fabrice, who came of age a fortnight ago, was now struggling to make his mark on the nation. Worse, he couldn't even secure the podium in regional competitions.

As far as Loris dug it up, there were two reasons for this.

The first was Fabrice's cousin Eugene. One year older, he consistently outperformed him. And for some reason, he signed up for all of his competitions. Second, Fabrice was now competing against people aged between 16 and 20. In Merigen, people in this age group had their 5th genetic enhancement, whereas Fabrice had yet to schedule his.

Their income suffered, and coupled with the exponential increase in raw material prices, Fabrice had taken out a second loan to maintain the delivery of the resources needed to build the underground base.

At the global level, the situation worsened. This was not obvious in affluent areas. People just appeared more uptight and in a hurry. Yet over the web, ever-increasing survivor testimonies surfaced. The few remnants emerging from forsaken places conveyed the same message: 'Anarchy is rising'.

However, these were unverifiable rumours; any record could be forged under the scenario of the greatest Fantasian movies. Yet the existence of the Dark-Core leaderboard changed everything. According to it, the global population had dropped to 122 billion.

Two billion had fallen.

Paranoia was growing. Being safe was no longer enough; the need to defend oneself arose.

Loris floated into his living room. He racked his brain, trying to find clues for the final variables determining the score of Dark-Core's goals.

During these last 36 days, they had found 20 of these thanks to their combined efforts. The first 13 were both obvious and relatively easy to confirm. This included time, difficulty, risks, gains, costs, relevance, originality, causes, consequences, and their variants. What enabled them to reach the first mark: finding 40% of the variables.

Thanks to Loris, the next milestone of 55% was crossed ten days ago. His goals, all related to his Noflo training, provided a wide range of statistical information. This allowed them to identify and prove the distinction between the base value of a goal and a multiplier that depended on the quality of its execution.

For example, if a Dark-Goal was: 'Brush your teeth', although beneficial, the base value of the mission would be low as it's short, easy, and safe. However, it would be multiplied according to brushing speed, quality, and completeness.

After more than a week without finding new variables or clues to refine their research, the trio faced a serious dilemma: to keep committing to the project or give up and focus on scoring.

Anastasia and Fabrice harvested a lot of points when they reached the first and second milestones, completing the related Dark-Goal. Still, they had given up much more by only doing elementary assignments to identify these same variables.

Even Loris—who used his two remaining goals for training—was losing sight of the top 10%.

They quickly discovered that repeating similar missions yielded fewer and fewer points, down to half their initial value.

Stopping now was tempting but very problematic. It would be detrimental to Loris, who still aimed to find 70% of the variables, and their income because they were planning to sell their findings.

While Fabrice and Anastasia could score big by winning competitions, Loris did not have a field of choice and thus won't be able to reach the top 10% without the support of first-class information.

On the other hand, as the global situation grew more unstable, there was no longer any certainty about sports competitions. They could stop any moment. Anastasia had tried it once, winning a local competition, and the corresponding Dark-Goal gave her an incredible number of points. Very tempting.

Both she and Fabrice were supportive for the time being, but Loris could no longer bear being a burden. His resentment towards his mother deepened; it was her fault after all. Everything was.

As Loris sank into a spiral of negative feelings - harshly blaming his mother for his impracticable genes - Fabrice returned home. Finally, something refreshing. He wouldn't want to know what would have become of him if he didn't have friends.

Fabrice's veins stood out at the temple. It showed deep anger or frustration for someone who usually hid his emotions so well.

Loris laughed. "Did you get blown off?"

His friend glared at him, visibly not in the mood to laugh. "I have a short-term solution for our money worries."

Loris raised an eyebrow. "Why is your smile hiding, then?"

Deactivating his p-object, Fabrice sighed. "It was, and it will be a humiliation."

His other eyebrow rose.

"I've met with the Fortizone Family…." Fabrice said. He took a brief pause. "And I asked them financial support. My grandfather agreed, but the rats that are Eugene and his parents strongly stood against it. Long story short, they easily reached a consensus since the rest of the family wasn't on my side. Since this financial aid is for our underground base, they'll check if we deserve it."

"What is the trial?"

"A showdown against Eugene's trio,"

Loris shrugged. "Gotta beat them up."

Fabrice shook his head. "We can't win. You may not know them, but his trio is composed of Shaka, a Jellani, and this bitch Mallory, who's more venomous and slyer than a snake."

Fabrice's look and tone of disdain spoke volumes. He rarely displayed such intense and genuine emotions. Loris wouldn't have let him feel sad, but his long-legged friend was someone who quickly caught on. To not hurt his ego, he subtly tried to lighten his mood.

"Shaka!? The Ultra-heavyweight fighter?"

Fabrice nodded.

"What is the catch?"

"A consolation prize."

Loris laughed. "Time to get our ass kicked!"

From their very childhood, Merigenians were encouraged to work together. After their first year of compulsory schooling, children had to form a trio with whom they would collaborate and develop close ties to complete their studies. In most cases, they would become lifelong friends, associates, or work colleagues. Citizens who failed at this stage had little chance of flourishing in the merit society.

However, conflicts between different trios were inevitable, the ego of the average Merigenian being oversized. The school system did not help, encouraging students to quarrel.

Since official laws strictly prohibited physical violence, from the youngest age, it was customary to settle disagreements and disputes in a deathmatch called a showdown.

Taking place in 'Warsuit Supremacy' - a national, realistic and fully immersive competitive virtual game - showdowns were usually played out on urban maps and had only one outcome: the outright extermination of one side.