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Another hour had passed over Berlin since the system had revealed itself in detail to Leo Richter. But the city was still a single, deafening scream of chaos. Sirens wailed incessantly, the distant crunch of metal on metal suggested that the gridlock was turning into a permanent wreckage field. From his office window in Mitte, Leo could see the situation coming to a head. Green military vehicles, armored and menacing, rolled through the streets. Special forces of the Bundeswehr, hundreds of marksmen, were deployed, if only to protect the Reichstag building. A desperate attempt to maintain order, Leo thought. A pattern that was doomed to failure.

Most of the players in Berlin, including his own colleagues, had chosen their classes. The density of active players here, in the heart of the capital, was enormous. It was only a matter of time.

Then it happened.

A glistening crack materialized not somewhere in the sky, but directly above the glass dome of the Reichstag building. It pulsed, distorting the air like a heat wave, while the screams of the people in the square in front of the building fell silent before they awoke again in a new chorus of horror. The portal opened wider, and out they crawled. Brown, slippery, with too many legs and almond-shaped heads - the same creatures that Elton Mace had observed in San Francisco. Only here, above the symbol of democracy, they looked even more sinister.

Leo felt a surge of adrenaline threatening his otherwise cool facade. But he suppressed it. Emotions were variables that had to be controlled. His eyes, sharp and analytical, fixed on the phenomenon. A tiny, floating symbol that he had not yet seen in the menu appeared above the portal. Intuitively, driven by his scholarly mind, he called up his analysis function. He concentrated; the data flowed through his mind. A transparent text box materialized in his field of vision, directly above the glistening rift: Portal: Vermin-Den Lvl 1 (Difficulty: Yellow-Mark - Moderate). Vermin-Den. A fitting name. These creatures were pests. And the yellow marking? An indication of difficulty levels. The system provided data. And data could be analyzed. He saw the special forces open fire down by the Reichstag. MP volleys tore the air, machine guns spat fire. But the creatures did not stagger. The projectiles slid through them or hit them with a soft hiss that did nothing. Leo shook his head. Pointless. Worldly weapons were irrelevant. He also saw individual players venturing out of the crowd. A warrior, who was beating one of the monsters with his bare fists, and the creature cried out. An elementalist who hurled a small fireball that scorched the monster. The pests were vulnerable. Only to the right ones.

Leo’s fingers twitched. He needed to know more. More data. The portal, the monsters, their weak points. He began to hastily type notes into his mental interface to record every observation, every number. The chaos was immense, but it was a chaos with rules. And he, Leo Richter, would break these rules. The analysis of the threat had only just begun. But from a distance, the data collection was incomplete. He had to get closer. Immediately.

He opened his mental game menu and switched to the contact list. His colleagues were here in the building. He searched through their classifications: Meier, Sascha - Warrior. Gärtner, Lena - Ranger. Dr. Schmidt, Petra - Healer. Ibrahim, Omar - Elementalist. Perfect. A functional unit.

Leo stood up and headed for the office doors. Chaos still reigned, but he saw some of his colleagues already wearing their starting gear over their normal suits, uncertain but with a new attitude. "Mr. Meier! Mrs. Gärtner! Dr. Schmidt! Mr. Ibrahim!" His voice was unusually demanding, but clear. "We’re going to the Reichstag. Analyze the threat on site. This is not a request, this is a directive. We need your classes. And I need the data."

His colleagues, marked by panic and confusion, but surprised by Leo’s unexpected authority and determination, followed him hesitantly. Mr. Meier, the warrior, whose suit was now covered by a simple breastplate, nodded silently. Frau Gärtner, the ranger, already had a simple longbow in her hand. Dr. Schmidt, the healer, carried a glowing staff. And Omar Ibrahim, the elementalist, held a small flame in the palm of his hand. They were a bizarre-looking group.

They moved through the rubble of the city. Destroyed cabs blocked the road, smoldering wrecks framed their path. People lay everywhere - dead, injured or simply staring apathetically at the ground, unable to process the screams and the distant rumble of the Reichstag. Military barricades had already been set up, but the chaos was too great, the forces spread too thin. Leo led his group through the side streets with unexpected precision; his eyes scanned every alley, every rooftop, his mind racing, cataloging potential dangers and evasive routes.

The noise grew louder the closer they got to the Reichstag. Above him, the crack in the dome pulsed, continuing to spit out the insectoid creatures. Down on the square, the first players - eyed incredulously by the military units - fought battles with the beasts that they could not fight with conventional weapons. The scene was a surreal nightmare, a picture of total transformation. Leo Richter stood at the edge of this new battlefield, ready not only to experience the incomprehensible, but to decipher it down to the smallest detail.

Next Chapter: Healing the Household