Orin's stomach felt like it was twisting into knots, the hunger gnawing at him more intensely now. Despite the small meal he'd scavenged earlier, it wasn't enough to fill the emptiness. His body craved more, but there was nothing left to hunt. He had already searched the area around the clearing multiple times today, scrounging for anything he could eat, anything to fuel the growing exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones.
He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he trudged through the forest, each step heavier than the last. The sun was dipping lower in the sky now, casting long, jagged shadows across the forest floor. He knew he needed to keep moving, but his legs felt like lead, and his head was clouded with dizziness. His body was trying to warn him that it couldn't keep up much longer.
Orin's thoughts drifted back to the rift. The strange tear in the fabric of reality that had appeared several days ago, when he'd first arrived in this strange world. At first, it had been a mere crack in the sky — barely noticeable. But now? The rift was undeniable. It pulled at him, an unseen force that made the air around him tremble. Every time he felt the rift's presence, it sent a shiver down his spine.
The sensation was strange — almost as if the rift itself was alive, hungry in a way that mirrored his own growing hunger. He wasn't sure if it was the rift calling to him or the energy inside of him pulling him toward it. But one thing was clear: the rift wasn't just some random anomaly. It was a signal. A warning. And it was growing.
Orin stopped, breath shallow as he stood at the edge of a small ridge overlooking a wide, barren field. The rift was visible now — an unnatural tear in the sky, pulsating with dark energy. It had grown in size over the past few days, stretching and distorting the world around it. The very air seemed to shimmer and ripple, as though reality itself were on the verge of breaking.
His chest tightened as he stared at it. Every instinct screamed at him to stay away, to retreat, but the pull of the rift was too strong. It felt wrong, but he couldn't ignore it. There was something about it that called to him, something that made his skin tingle and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
I need to understand it, he thought, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted to turn and run, escape this nightmare of a world. But another part of him, the part that had been awakened with the Chaos energy, wanted to step forward, to confront the rift head-on.
The Chaos energy inside him responded, a faint pulse under his skin. He could feel it surging again, ready to push him forward. Orin's hands clenched into fists as he fought against the impulse. He was too weak, too hungry, to face the rift without risking everything.
But then, his stomach growled — a vicious, bone-deep growl that rattled his bones. He flinched, as the hunger flared again, more unbearable than before. His hands trembled as he pressed them against his sides. It was like a cold iron grip, twisting inside of him. He needed food, and fast. His body couldn't hold out much longer. But there was something else, too — something deeper, darker that was slowly overtaking him.
His vision blurred again, dizziness threatening to send him crashing to the ground. The world around him seemed to sway, the edge of his consciousness fraying with every passing moment. He needed rest. He needed to eat. He needed to survive.
But he couldn't look away from the rift.
He stepped forward, unconsciously, the Chaos energy within him spiking, pushing him to move. His muscles burned, his bones screamed, but still, he walked.
The rift seemed to beckon him, its dark tendrils reaching for him like an old friend, a call that whispered to him in a language he didn't fully understand but still recognized. The energy within him reacted, thrumming, growing louder, like it was feeding on the power that was emanating from the rift itself.
His speed picked up, without him even thinking about it. Chaos energy flowed freely through him, like liquid fire, accelerating him, pushing him forward. His feet pounded against the ground with a strange fluidity that he hadn't experienced before. His movements became a blur, his reflexes sharp, his senses heightened. The air around him felt like it was bending and warping as he sprinted toward the rift, faster than he had ever moved before.
But something wasn't right. As he closed the distance, the world around him seemed to distort, as if the rift was warping the fabric of reality itself. The air was heavy, thick, and cold. He could feel the weight of the rift's presence pressing down on him, crushing him from all sides.
Orin's breath came in sharp gasps as he reached the edge of the rift. The energy surrounding it crackled like static, and he could hear it — the faint sound of something breaking, something screaming from the other side.
He stepped closer, his body trembling. His skin felt raw, like it was being pulled apart from the inside out. The Chaos energy within him flared again, rising to meet the rift's power. He could feel it building, growing — and yet it wasn't enough. The rift was so much bigger than he was. The pull, the force of it, was greater than anything he could control.
I'm not ready, he thought, panic setting in.
He stopped, suddenly unsure, feeling his body rebel against the pull of the rift. The hunger inside him twisted again, sharper, deeper, threatening to break him in half. His knees buckled, but he caught himself just in time.
I need food. I need to heal. His vision spun as his exhaustion caught up with him. His body, despite the power of Chaos energy inside him, felt like it was on the edge of collapse.
The rift pulsed again, this time with a deeper, more guttural sound. Orin felt it in his bones — the momentary shift, the unsettling sense of the universe warping around him.
And then, as if by instinct, he backed away.
No. Not yet. He wasn't strong enough.
He turned and staggered back, the energy within him flickering in response, almost angrily, but Orin didn't care. The rift was too powerful. Too chaotic. He needed to understand it, but he needed time — more time than he had.
His body shook with the effort of walking away, but he couldn't afford to stop. Not yet. The rift was growing, and it wasn't just pulling at him. It was pulling at everything. This entire world was on the verge of falling apart.
And Orin had no choice but to figure out how to stop it.