Kai slumped against the jagged wall of the pit, his back pressed to cold, moss-slick stone that reeked of rust and despair. For the first time in weeks, his stomach didn't claw at itself—a strange, alien fullness lingered, like a dream slipping through cracked fingers. Water glistened on his lips, not the metallic sting of the pipe but something cleaner, sweeter. His wounds—flayed forearm, blackened chest burn, raw nail beds—still pulsed with pain, but the fever had dulled, no longer boiling his thoughts into syrup. Bandages, cleaner than the corpse's rags, clung to his skin.
He didn't remember wrapping them.
It was wrong. Too stable. Like someone had slipped him a lifeline and erased the proof.
Above, the trapdoor creaked.
Admin's voice slithered down like oil through a grate, sharp and smug. "Still breathin', muck? Gotta say, you're the cockroachiest cockroach I've ever seen. Bet you're lovin' that piss-puddle spa down there, huh?"
A wet splatter followed—spit or worse—landing near Kai's foot. Laughter echoed after it, joined by a second voice, nasal and cruel. "He's gonna start growin' gills soon."
Kai didn't look up. Didn't flinch. His eyes stayed fixed on the wall opposite him, where eight uneven scratches marked days he could barely count. Time had chewed itself into a blur, days and nights melting like wax under Sovereign's gaze—or whatever hallucination he'd conjured to survive the weight. Admin's taunts were background noise now, like the rusted pipe's hum or the whispers from the corpse he'd eaten.
Ghoul, his mind insisted again. But the lie still tasted like blood.
He shifted, wincing as his twisted ankle flared. The swelling had eased, but something in the bone still ground with every move. His flayed arm throbbed under crusted bandages, and the chest burn—black and oozing—cracked whenever he breathed too deep. Seven missing nails left purple, weeping stubs that bled when clenched. Still, somehow, he felt alive.
Not whole. Not human. But here. And for now, that was enough.
Flicker.
The ember hovered in the pit's gloom, no bigger than a firefly, pulsing faintly with the same stuttering rhythm as Kai's heartbeat. It wasn't Velnix—his guardian, sealed by Sovereign's cords—but something new. Something forged from whispers, pain, and the stubborn refusal to rot.
Kai exhaled. Slow. Ragged.
He closed his eyes and reached inward.
If Sovereign thought his soulprint was gone, it was wrong. Or maybe he'd clawed it back. Either way, he'd make it count.
The black marble of his soulprint stretched wide—a vast, broken hall veined with faintly glowing cracks like yellow rift scars. The air stank of iron and ash. The floor pulsed underfoot, faint and alive, carrying the heartbeat of something buried deeper.
He walked barefoot across it, bloody smears following every step.
At the center of the hall, a silver-lit circle waited. Runed edges carved with writhing symbols twisted when he stared too long. The spirit guardian workshop.
A place he hadn't dared return to since Velnix was taken.
Flicker floated toward the center, its tiny pulse brightening with cautious energy, like it understood what was about to happen. A soot-colored spark. Shapeless. Full of potential. Waiting for him.
A translucent menu blinked to life above the circle, text jagged and glitching like a corrupted Sovereign interface.
---
[SPIRIT GUARDIAN: FLICKER]
Status: Embryonic, Shy, Energetic, Growing
Core Ability: Material Manipulation – Can transform into any item the user visualizes (limited by focus and energy)
Upgrades Available (Locked – Unlockable via Meditation):
• Form Stabilization – Solidify Flicker into a consistent shape (blade, shield, etc.) with enhanced durability
• Resonance Sync – Amplify form through soulprint connection (power boost, risk of overload)
• Rift Conduit – Channel Nynx energy through Flicker, enabling rift-based attacks or movement
> Note: Overuse may destabilize soulprint or draw Sovereign's attention.
There was another list of unlockable abilitys with demon cores and soulgems but Kai ignored it.
He didn't have any so meditation was the only way.
---
Kai's lips twitched. A ghost of a smile.
"Interesting."
Flicker wasn't Velnix—not mist and wrath and shadow claws. This was a tool, a canvas. Something born not of power, but pain. His pain. His need. His hunger. It could become anything.
A key. A weapon. A way out.
But it was fragile.
So was he.
He didn't linger. The marble floor felt like a trap, Sovereign's eyes twitching in every glowing crack. He exhaled—and returned to the pit.
The rot hit first. Then the aches. Then the pulse of Flicker beside him.
"Alright," he whispered hoarsely, "let's try it."
He focused.
A blade. Sleek. Thin. Like the ones Neo used when he moved through dreams.
Flicker pulsed and stretched, forming a jagged shard of black light, no longer than a foot. It shimmered. Twitched.
Then collapsed.
Just a spark again.
Kai sighed and slumped back. "Needs work."
His fingers brushed the ever-lasting smokes pouch still tied to his belt. The only thing they hadn't taken. He pulled out a cigarette, half-crushed, bloodstained. He didn't light it—just let it rest between cracked lips.
A ritual. A tether.
Flicker pulsed once more, almost... curious.
"Don't judge me," Kai muttered. "You're not there yet either."
The trapdoor above screamed open, metal grinding against rust.
Kai's head snapped up.
A body plummeted through the dark.
It hit the ground with a sickening crunch. A scream followed—raw, human. Not like his howls. Real. The figure writhed, clutching mangled legs, bones jutting from torn flesh and fabric. Blood spread like oil.
Admin's voice cackled from above. "New meat! Play nice, muck!"
The trapdoor slammed shut.
Kai didn't move right away.
Then—slow, agonizing—he crawled toward the figure.
Each motion sent fire through his ankle and spine. His flayed forearm dragged behind him.
The man—young, early twenties—was pale and sweat-drenched, his eyes wide with pain and fear. "H-help," he gasped. "Legs…"
He clawed at the dirt. His hands were still intact. No missing nails. No rot. Fresh. Not yet broken.
Kai hesitated.
The pit didn't allow friends.
The corpse in the corner—ghoul, he still lied—grinned in silence. Jaws slack. The walls watched. The pipe hissed.
But this man was real. Still breathing.
"What's your name?" Kai rasped.
"Joren," the man coughed. "They... they took my sister. Threw me in. Please... help."
Kai's chest locked tight. Sister. Crest's name echoed behind his ribs, sharp as the burn still oozing on his chest. Guilt surged—old, buried, alive.
"Can't fix your legs," he whispered. "But... stay awake. Talk to me."
And they did.
Between gasps and silence, Joren talked. A smuggler. Caught stealing resonance shards. Kai listened. Clutched his pouch. Felt Flicker humming faintly beside him.
It was a sound that wasn't his screams or Admin's laughter.
For a few hours, he wasn't alone.
But the pit doesn't care.
That night, the trapdoor opened again. No warning. Just a shadow—and a thud.
A rusted crate, spiked with nails, dropped from above. It crashed down on Joren's chest, a brutal, final punctuation. The sound of bone collapsing under metal.
Blood sprayed.
It hit Kai's face. Warm. Wet.
Joren didn't scream.
He didn't move.
Just stopped.
Admin laughed from above, his voice echoing, distant and cruel. "Oops! Clumsy me!"
Then silence.
Kai's hands trembled.
He crawled to the still-warm body. Pressed trembling fingers to Joren's arm. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Like he'd said to the last one. And the one before that.
He tore a strip from Joren's jacket and wrapped it around his bleeding forearm. Their blood mixed. Flicker dimmed, pulsing low.
Mourning.
He'd had a friend.
For a few hours.
Now just another corpse in the pit.
The shame hit next. Heavier than the crate. Worse than the hunger. He'd let Joren die. He'd eaten the dead. He wasn't Kai anymore.
Not human.
Just meat. Just muck. Like Admin said.
Flicker pulsed—sharp, urgent.
Kai clutched his chest.
"You're real," he whispered. "Don't let me rot here."
Flicker pulses twices.
Kai sighs.