Morning light filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows over the small clearing where the Bone Shed stood proudly. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of pine and earth—a brief respite from the harshness outside.
Iden stood outside the shelter, watching his skeleton minions as they moved with clockwork precision. The Woodcutter swung its bone axe, splitting logs with a steady, relentless rhythm, each chop echoing faintly in the quiet forest. There was no fatigue, no hesitation—just the endless repetition of its assigned task.
Meanwhile, the Scout slipped silently between the trees, eyes alert and unblinking, its movements smooth as it mapped the area and scanned for threats. Its reports popped up in Iden's interface regularly, feeding him crucial information on nearby resources and dangers.
The system had allowed Iden to set a daily schedule for each summon. The Woodcutter would gather wood and repair the shelter during the daylight hours, while the Scout patrolled during the early mornings and twilight, maximizing coverage of the territory without overlap. This rigid routine ensured maximum efficiency, turning his growing fortress from a fragile hideout into a well-oiled operation.
Iden breathed deeply, feeling the weight of responsibility but also the thrill of control. Every skeleton moved according to his design, each bone and sinew shaped by his will.
But the day wasn't just about maintaining the status quo.
Iden moved to the summoning interface, a translucent display glowing faintly in his vision. He pulled up the stats of his two skeletons, now both at level 5 after their recent growth.
The Woodcutter's damage output had increased thanks to its newly unlocked Berserker Mode, but Iden knew it could be stronger.
He clicked through the available upgrade paths.
The Woodcutter could be further enhanced with increased endurance or specialized weaponry crafted from the beast cores and hides they had collected. Choosing the right upgrade was critical since the skeleton's class was permanent—every decision would shape its future combat style.
With careful thought, Iden invested some of his hard-earned resources to craft a reinforced bone glaive for the Woodcutter, increasing its attack reach and damage.
At the same time, the Scout was primed for stealth enhancements.
Using the hides gathered from the beasts, Iden unlocked the Silent Step upgrade, reducing noise and improving evasion.
The system confirmed:
[Upgrade Successful: Silent Step – Scout Skeleton]Movement noise reduced by 80%, evasion increased by 15%.
Satisfied, Iden watched his skeletons don their new abilities and gear.
Iden then pulled up the resource inventory to assess what they had amassed.
Bone fragments—now over forty—were stacked neatly, ready for future summons or crafting. Wood was the most abundant resource, with nearly fifty logs secured, enough for further shelter expansion or weapon crafting.
Scrap metal was scarcer, only around fifteen pieces, but each was precious. Stone and hide were growing steadily but not in surplus.
The Tier F beast cores and fangs were carefully preserved—these rare components would unlock powerful crafting recipes and summon tokens in the future.
Each resource was carefully catalogued, with reminders from the system to prioritize gathering tasks according to shortages. Efficiency wasn't just about gathering—it was about smart planning.
As Iden pondered the next steps, a new notification appeared—something he hadn't seen before.
[WORLD CHAT ENABLED]
Curious, he opened the interface and was greeted with a stream of messages from other survivors scattered across the devastated world.
Some were traders, offering resources and information. Others were wary warriors, seeking alliances or warning of dangerous zones. A few simply broadcast cries for help.
One message caught Iden's eye:
"Looking for allies near the Northern Border. Strong summoners only. Contact: HawkEye."
Iden's pulse quickened.
For the first time, the isolated fight for survival felt connected to a larger world. The world chat offered not only information but the chance to form bonds—or rivalries—with others who had been summoned to this apocalypse.
Rael, noticing his interest, asked softly, "Are you thinking of reaching out?"
Iden nodded slowly. "We've survived this far alone, but it's time to see who else is out there."
The sun rose higher as the Bone Shed stood firm, a beacon of resilience in a broken land. The bones of his minions carried new strength, and the digital hum of the system pulsed with potential.
Iden felt the weight of the world—and the promise of what was yet to come.