The Spine-Crawler's corpse lay still, its greenish blood staining the rubble. Lucas stood over it, a strange mix of exhaustion and triumph washing over him. The agility he'd "borrowed" from the creature still lingered, making his movements feel surprisingly fluid, a stark contrast to his usual clumsy self. It was subtle, but undeniable.
"So, it's not just information," he murmured, flexing his fingers. "I can actually… inherit abilities, even if it's just a fraction."
This realization sent a thrill through him. It meant his growth wasn't limited to mere knowledge. He could become more. But what were the limits? How many memories could he hold? And what if some memories were... too much to bear?
He decided to continue his "research" on the Spine-Crawler. Kneeling down, Lucas placed his scarred palm on the creature's head, focusing intently. This time, he wasn't just observing. He was trying to delve deeper.
Images flooded his mind again, but sharper, more vivid. He saw the Spine-Crawler's predatory existence: scuttling through dark tunnels, ambushing smaller creatures, the thrill of the hunt. He felt its chitinous armor, not just as a defense, but as a rigid extension of its will. He even perceived the faint electrical impulses that governed its antennae, allowing it to "see" vibrations in the air.
As he pulled away, a new sensation rippled through him. It wasn't physical agility this time, but a heightened sensory awareness. The faint whistling of the wind now carried distinct tremors from distant rubble. The smell of decaying matter, previously vague, became sharply defined, allowing him to pinpoint its source. It was like his world had gained a new layer of detail.
"Amazing," he breathed, his eyes scanning the ruins with a clarity he'd never known. He could almost "feel" the faint vibrations of a lone Rat-Skitter — a small, mouse-like Abyssal Creature — scuttling somewhere beneath a nearby pile of debris, a distance he wouldn't have even registered moments ago.
Armed with these new senses, the Scavenge Zone transformed from a chaotic death trap into a more readable landscape. He could anticipate the movements of low-tier Grubs before they even emerged, avoid the more territorial Spine-Crawlers by sensing their vibrations from afar. This wasn't just about fighting; it was about surviving more efficiently.
He spent the rest of the day carefully moving through Gamma 7, not just collecting scrap, but actively seeking out weakened or solitary low-tier Abyssal Creatures. He avoided anything that seemed too strong, too fast. His method was precise: observe, absorb memory, understand weakness, and then, if the opportunity arose, strike.
He defeated two more Bone-Eater Grubs and another smaller Spine-Crawler, each kill adding new layers to his senses and subtle boosts to his physical capabilities. From the Grubs, he refined his "tremor sense" to an almost subconscious level, allowing him to navigate unstable ground with ease. From the Spine-Crawler, his agility became more pronounced, allowing him to duck and weave with surprising speed for someone his size.
By late afternoon, Lucas had amassed a small, but valuable, haul of salvage – enough for a few decent meals and perhaps even some replacement tools. More importantly, he felt stronger, more confident than he ever had in his life. The initial fear of the Abyssal Creatures had been replaced by a nascent hunger for their memories.
As he made his way back towards the unofficial exit, he passed a small group of other Scavengers. Unlike Lucas, they were burly, armed with rusty axes and crude shields, and their faces were grim, showing the signs of a fruitless day. They eyed his bulging sack with suspicion.
"Well, well, look what we have here," a burly man with a scarred face, known as 'Iron Jaw' Jeb, sneered, blocking Lucas's path. "Little Kai's got lucky today, eh? Found some scraps that weren't guarded by anything bigger than a fly?"
Lucas clutched his sack tighter. Jeb and his crew were notorious for bullying weaker Scavengers, taking their meager gains. In the past, Lucas would have surrendered immediately, perhaps begging for a few crumbs.
But now, he felt different. The enhanced senses he'd gained from the Spine-Crawler's memories allowed him to subtly perceive Jeb's stance, the slight shift of his weight, the predictable arc of his impending punch.
"I earned these," Lucas said, his voice surprisingly steady, though his heart still thumped.
Jeb scoffed, taking a step closer. "Earned? Or stumbled upon like the worm you are? Hand it over, boy, before I make you regret it." His fist twitched.
Lucas's mind raced. He knew he couldn't beat Jeb in a fair fight. But he didn't need to. He just needed to escape, and perhaps, send a message. He recalled the Spine-Crawler's surprising speed when threatened, its instinctive need to protect its territory.
As Jeb lunged, Lucas sidestepped with an unexpected burst of agility, far faster than Jeb could have anticipated. Jeb's fist swung wildly past him. Lucas didn't stop there. He used his new "tremor sense" to pinpoint a loose, jagged piece of metal buried in the rubble nearby. In a fluid motion, he snatched it up and, with a precision born from his absorbed instincts, swung it.
It wasn't a powerful blow, but it was perfectly aimed. The jagged edge scraped harmlessly against Jeb's thick leather arm-guard, but the sound of it, the unexpected speed, and the sudden shift in Lucas's demeanor caught Jeb off guard.
"What the—!" Jeb stumbled back, genuinely surprised. His companions, who had been laughing, suddenly quieted.
Lucas didn't wait. He sprinted, weaving through the debris with an almost unnatural grace, disappearing into the maze of ruined buildings. Jeb and his men stood there, dumbfounded, looking at the empty space where the "weakling" had just been.
"He... he moved like a damn Grub!" one of Jeb's companions muttered, wide-eyed.
Lucas didn't look back. He ran until his lungs burned, adrenaline coursing through him. He had faced down bullies and survived, not by being stronger, but by being smarter, by using the strange echoes within him.
As he finally reached the safety of his makeshift shelter, hidden deep within a less-frequented part of the ruins, Lucas slumped against a cold wall. He touched the star-shaped scar on his palm. It hummed warmly. This power was real. It was changing him.
But what was the true cost? He had touched the darkness of the Abyssal Creatures' minds, felt their primal urges. Could he control it? Or would he, little by little, become something less human, more... creature? And what other secrets did these Obsidian Shards hold? Lucas knew one thing for sure: his days as a simple, weak Scavenger were over.