Ficool

Chapter 8 - Old World

The scent of incinerated Grave-Ape and crushed Shriekers filled the small cave. Jasmine's demonstration of power had been so absolute, so swift, that Neraxis was still struggling to process it. The threats that had seem unbearable just minutes ago were now nothing more than ash and broken bodies on the floor. With a single, mighty leap, Jasmine cleared the hole in the ceiling, landing gracefully in the main room of his territory. Her large form barely fit inside the expanded twenty-by-twenty-foot chamber. Neraxis and Lilian followed, climbing out of the dark cave and back into the relative light of the main chamber, their feet crunching on fallen debris.

His territory was a mess. The front door was a ruin. The floor was littered with chunks of stone and dirt from the destroyed ceiling slab. As he began to mentally plan the repairs, a series of familiar chimes sounded in his head. He had received several private messages. His name being broadcast globally had turned him into a celebrity.

Most were from "Willow," the pixie-owning Lord, filled with warnings and genuine advice to lay low and not trust anyone. A few were from unknown Lords, demanding he hand over the chest and offers to buy its contents for scraps. He dismissed them all. But two messages made his blood run cold. They were from names he never, ever wanted to see again.

Pansy And Draco.

His ex-girlfriend and the man she had left him for. The two people who slowly and cruelly ruined his life over the past year. It made him sick to his guts. He couldn't believe it. Of all the billions of people on Earth, they had been brought here too. And, due to the world announcement, they had found him.

With a trembling hand, he opened Pansy's message first.

[Pansy]: Neraxis? Is that really you? I saw the announcement. I can't believe it! We're in this horrible place too. It's been so hard. We got a terrible start, just a few Goblins. They're weak and stupid. We're starving, Neraxis. We saw your name and we were so relieved. You always were the lucky one. Since you found a Diamond chest, you must have so much stuff. Could you help us out? For old times' sake? Just some food and Genetic energy to get us on our feet.

The message was manipulative. "For old times' sake?" He remembered the "old times." He remembered her mocking his love for history and strategy games, calling them a childish waste of time that wouldn't get him anywhere in life. He remembered her constant complaints about him not being ambitious enough, not rich enough, not like Draco. He remembered her sighing with disappointment when he talked about his passions.

Then he opened Draco's message. It was, as expected, far more direct and arrogant.

[Draco]: Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Neraxis, the history nerd. Who would've thought you'd be the one to hit the jackpot. Pansy told me to ask nicely, but let's cut the crap. You owe me. You're rolling in loot and we're stuck eating tree bark. We're in your debt from the real world, remember? That 'investment' you helped me with. So you're going to give us what we need. Send us 10,000 Genetic energy, a week's worth of rations, and any extra weapons you have. Don't make this difficult. We know your general location. It would be a shame if other, less friendly Lords found out exactly where you are.

The rage that boiled up in Neraxis was so hot and sudden it almost made him dizzy. The "investment." Draco had cornered him with a 'can't-miss' opportunity, a high-risk crypto scheme he'd framed as the only way for a guy like Neraxis to ever get ahead. Neraxis had been hesitant, but Pansy had worked on him for weeks, telling how the money would secure their future, how he could finally prove he was a man of action. He had given in, handing over his entire savings, a small inheritance his grandparents had left him for his education.

It was a scam. A pump-and-dump scheme Draco had orchestrated. Neraxis had lost everything. When he came to them, devastated and broke, looking not for a handout but just for some support, they had laughed at him. Draco had clapped him on the shoulder and called him a naive fool who wasn't cut out for the real world. Pansy, her face cold, had told him she couldn't be with such a failure, that his lack of 'killer instinct' was pathetic. They had broken him, not just financially, but emotionally.

And now, here they were. In a new world that ran on killer instinct. Begging him for scraps, trying to leverage the very pain they had inflicted on him as if it were a debt he owed them. They thought he was the same weak, pliable Neraxis they had known. The same boy who would do anything for a kind word from Pansy, the same pushover who was intimidated by Draco's aggressive confidence.

He looked around his territory, at the powerful, calm form of Jasmine, her leafy scales rustling softly. He looked at the beautiful, sorrowful angel, Lilian , who stood ready to defend him, her dark wings. He looked at the shining silver armor on his own body. He was not that boy anymore. That boy had died when his world vanished. This new world, for all its terror, had also given him a chance to be someone else.

A cold, hard smile fell on Neraxis's lips. It was a cruel smile. He opened a reply to Draco, his gauntleted fingers flying across the virtual interface.

[Neraxis]: Draco. You're right. I do remember the debt. And I intend to pay it back in full. But you seem to misunderstand the new currency. In this world, power is the only thing that matters. And you have none.

He then switched to Pansy's chat, the words flowing out of him like venom.

[Neraxis]: Pansy. You were right about one thing. My hobbies were a waste of time in that world. But here, they are everything. All those hours I spent studying strategy, tactics, and resource management? All those nights I spent leading armies in games while you were out with him? I wasn't wasting my time. I was training.

He paused, fire burning in his chest. He was done being their victim. He was done being haunted by their memory. In this new world, the tables had turned. He wasn't their prey. They were his. He wouldn't just ignore them. He would make them understand the new hierarchy.

He crafted one final message and sent it to both of them simultaneously.

[Neraxis]: You want my resources? You want my help? You will get nothing. You abandoned me when I had nothing. Now I have everything, and you are the ones with nothing. Do you remember how you made me feel? The fear of being alone, the anxiety of not knowing how to survive? I remember it perfectly. I want you to feel that every single day in this foggy hell. Scrabble for scraps. Fear the dark. Run from every sound. Don't look for me. Don't ask me for help again. The next time we meet, I won't be your lucky break. I'll be your fear.

He hit send and immediately blocked both of their names, severing every connection with then. A sense of release washed over him.

He turned to his companions. "We're leaving," he announced, his voice ringing with a sharper edge. He walked over to the black, jagged keystone he had received from the chest. This was the next step. The world outside was full of hunters. It was time to disappear and become strong enough to face them all.

"Jasmine, Lilian ," he said, holding up the Portal Keystone. "The world is hunting us. So we're going to give them a ghost to chase. Our training begins now."

He channeled a small amount of Genetic energy into the keystone. The blood-red rune on its surface flared with a sinister light, and the air in front of him began to tear apart. The fabric of reality seemed to rip open, creating a shimmering, unstable rift in space that swirled with dark energy.

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