Utopian System

More dangerous.

"I\'ve waited long enough," he murmured, checking his recovered mana.

His fingers traced the familiar patterns of his book, seeking comfort in its familiar weight. It wasn\'t at maximum, but it would have to be sufficient. If something went wrong, he would improvise.

As always.

The oxygen stones in his pockets gave him some security.

The fundamental aspect of survival was covered, and although food could eventually become a problem, hunger was the last thing on his mind. Hatred consumed any other physical need.

He began advancing through the tunnel, his eel faithfully sliding beside him. It was then that he noticed the first change: his familiar, normally an electric blue-green, acquired an intense reddish tone. The color shift was gradual but unmistakable, like watching a sunset spread across water.

Elio stopped, expecting something dramatic to happen.

The first levels always began with a soft version of the final challenge.

But seconds passed and... nothing.

"What kind of test is this?" he murmured, studying his eel that continued glowing red but seemed to function normally. The familiar moved with its usual grace, seemingly unaffected by its chromatic transformation.

He continued advancing, his senses on high alert.

The tunnel seemed normal, with the same red lines on the walls he had noticed at the beginning. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet every instinct screamed that something was different.

A considerable time passed before he noticed the first real change: his advance had become heavier, as if he were walking against an invisible current.

"So that\'s it," he thought, noticing how each step required more effort than the previous one.

The resistance increased gradually, subtly, almost imperceptibly at first.

As he progressed further, the sensation grew stronger. His muscles began to protest under the growing pressure, fibers straining against an enemy they couldn\'t see.

It wasn\'t like walking in water or against wind; it was as if reality itself pushed him backward, an omnipresent force that seemed to deny his very right to advance.

His eel continued moving with apparent normality despite its altered color. Was the red a warning? Or a sign of adaptation?

Each step became more challenging than the last, but Elio didn\'t stop. Micah\'s memory burned in his mind, feeding his determination like fuel to a flame. No matter what kind of test this was, he would overcome it.

He had to.

"An endurance challenge," he murmured to himself, adjusting his posture to compensate for the growing pressure. His spine curved forward, shoulders hunched against the invisible force. "Or maybe something more..."

The question was: how strong would this pressure become?

♢♢♢♢

The hours of constant advance had allowed Elio to recover much of his life and mana, but the real challenge was just beginning.

The invisible force pushing him backward had become so intense that maintaining a fixed point required all his concentration.

Sweat beaded on his forehead from the constant strain.

If he relaxed his posture for an instant, his body began sliding backward, as if an invisible current dragged him. There was no wind, no perceptible air flow, just that relentless force pushing him in the opposite direction.

A point came when even leaning completely forward, pressing with all his strength against the ground, it became impossible to advance.

It wasn\'t a question of strength - his muscles, enhanced by the system, could exert much more pressure - it was a friction problem.

Sweat dripped down his face as he struggled against the invisible force, each drop seemingly pulled backward by the same power that fought his advance.

Simply put, there wasn\'t enough grip between his feet and the ground to counteract the force pushing him. The smooth tunnel floor, which had never seemed particularly noteworthy before, now became his greatest enemy.

"There has to be a solution," Elio murmured, his mind working through the possibilities. His fingers drummed against his thigh, a nervous habit he\'d developed during his studies. This was the moment for ingenuity, for finding the answer that the level expected from him.

His first attempt was obvious: the insulator that had been crucial in the previous level. He applied it to his soles, creating a surface that adhered better to the ground.

For a while, it worked.

His feet found better purchase, allowing him to advance several more meters. The small victory tasted sweet, but like everything else in this challenge, it proved temporary.

But as with everything before, there came a point where not even the insulator was enough. The invisible force simply overcame the material\'s gripping capacity, rendering his solution useless.

"If the problem is lack of weight..." Elio began forming a huge carbon stone.

The black and dense material materialized over his back.

The theory was solid: more weight meant more pressure against the ground, which should translate into more friction.

The logic was impeccable, proven by God\'s physics teachings.

And it worked...

For a while.

But even with the additional mass of carbon, he eventually reached another dead end. The invisible force simply increased until not even the extra weight was enough to keep him in place. His improved solution crumbled like the first, leaving him back where he started.

His eel, still glowing in that unsettling red tone, swam through the air around him as if the force didn\'t affect it at all. Elio observed it intently, its serpentine movements somehow hypnotic, searching for any clue in its anomalous behavior.

"There must be something I\'m not seeing," he thought, while feeling his body begin to slide backward again. His hand unconsciously reached for his book.

After several failed attempts to take another step, Elio began experimenting with more complex compounds.

Each new creation sparkled with potential before failing, leaving behind a trail of discarded solutions and frustrated hopes.

Through trial and error, Elio found himself playing with polyethylene, working with a promising compound... While arranging one of his new elements, nitrogen, and his first element, oxygen, in the carbon and hydrogen chain, he stumbled upon what was essentially cyanoacrylate without knowing it.

The clear substance formed between his fingers, its properties both intriguing and promising.

The cyanoacrylate seemed promising; the adhesive force of the compound was impressive, its molecular bonds forming almost instantly. But it had a critical defect that became apparent all too quickly.

It set too fast.

"Damn it," he muttered while trying to unstick his foot from the ground.

The adhesive had worked perfectly...

Too perfectly.

Instead of helping him advance, it had left him literally glued in place. The irony of his situation wasn\'t lost on him - he had succeeded in stopping his backward slide, but at the cost of any forward movement.

"I need something more flexible," he thought while struggling to free himself. Each attempt to break free sent jolts of frustration through his body. "Some kind of suction or an adhesive that allows movement. This is like being permanently anchored..."

Then the solution hit him, so simple he almost laughed at not having thought of it before.

Anchoring.

He didn\'t need to constantly fight against the force; he could use temporary anchor points.

With a quick movement, he created a carbon barrier behind himself. The black structure covered the entire tunnel, providing a solid point against which to brace himself.

"Finally," he sighed, allowing himself a moment of rest while leaning against the barrier. The force continued pushing him, but now the barrier kept him in place.

His eel, still glowing that mysterious red, seemed to curl around him in what almost looked like approval.