The moon hung blood-red in the sky, casting a crimson hue over the ruined chapel hidden deep in the wastelands. Kiel stood at its broken steps, his breathing ragged, wounds still fresh from the last encounter. Behind him, Myra limped slightly, holding her side. The mutated wolves hadn't gone down without a fight.
"This place feels... wrong," she muttered, eyes scanning the overgrown graveyard that surrounded them.
Kiel didn't reply. His system had guided him here—no explanation, just a pulsating directive: [Approach the Altar. Accept the Pact.]
The chapel doors creaked open at his touch, the sound echoing like a scream through the silent air. Inside, darkness ruled. The stained glass was shattered, and long-forgotten bones littered the floor.
In the center stood an altar—twisted and wrong, as if it had been grown rather than carved. The structure pulsed faintly, veins of dark red glowing beneath its surface. It looked alive.
[Warning: Pact with the Crimson Host will alter evolutionary trajectory.]
[Do you wish to proceed?]
Kiel hesitated. His instincts screamed danger—but danger had always walked hand in hand with power. "What the hell is the Crimson Host?" he asked aloud.
Myra, who'd followed him in, shivered. "That's forbidden tech—bio-parasitic systems. Most who take them lose their minds... or worse."
He turned to her, eyes firm. "I've already fused with Void Claw DNA, survived venomous berserkers, and fought creatures that should've killed me ten times over. I don't care about the risk. I need more."
Myra's voice dropped. "And what happens if it controls you instead?"
Kiel didn't answer. He approached the altar. The system pulsed again.
[Pact Initiation: Crimson Host Symbiote will bond to spinal core.]
[Do you accept the Crimson Pact?]
Kiel took one deep breath, then slammed his hand on the altar.
A scream—not his own—pierced the chapel. A writhing, liquid mass burst from the altar, tendrils of living blood latching onto his body, burrowing into his spine. He dropped to the floor, convulsing as memories that weren't his invaded his mind—memories of ancient predators, beings that devoured planets, parasites that turned kings into husks.
Myra rushed forward, but the moment she touched him, the mass snapped at her.
"Kiel!" she yelled. "Fight it!"
His eyes flashed open—black sclera, red irises glowing like embers. Veins writhed under his skin. And then... calm.
The system chimed.
[Crimson Host successfully integrated.]
[New Trait Gained: Blood Sapience – Manipulate your own blood as sentient weaponry.]
[Warning: Host will experience hunger. Constantly.]
Kiel staggered to his feet. The altar crumbled behind him.
"Are you still you?" Myra asked cautiously.
He looked at his hands—blackened claws dripped with sentient blood that slithered back into his veins like tame serpents. "I am... more than me."
Outside, the winds howled.
But now, Kiel didn't feel like prey anymore.
He was the storm.