The wasteland was endless. A horizon of fractured stars loomed above Je, each shard burning faintly as if refusing to die. His footsteps echoed against the void-soaked ground, crunching over crystalized ash that once belonged to civilizations long forgotten.
The System's voice was calm yet sinister:
— New Directive: Devour what should not exist.
Je narrowed his eyes. What does that mean? The System rarely explained itself, but its words always carried weight. Each mission wasn't random; each was part of a design he had yet to grasp.
The air shifted. He felt it — a presence. Not the primal aura of beasts, nor the arrogant suffocation of gods. This was… quieter. Hidden. It lingered in the cracks of reality like a shadow waiting for the right moment to step forward.
He stopped walking.
"Show yourself." His voice was low, a growl sharpened by suspicion.
The silence answered him back. But then, something flickered across the dying stars. Shapes. Dozens of them. Watching.
Je's hand tightened. The Devour skill stirred inside him, eager, restless. He felt hunger coil in his chest like a caged beast.
The shadow-forms didn't move closer. Instead, they spoke in unison. Not with words, but with a whisper carried into his very mind:
— You are not the first.
The ground cracked. A fissure opened beneath Je's feet, glowing with light that wasn't light at all — but the memory of annihilation. His pulse quickened. He could sense it now: the remnants of another Devourer, someone who came before him, someone who failed.
And in that moment, Je realized: this hunt wasn't about beasts or gods. It was about something far more terrifying. The hunt had already begun — and he wasn't the predator.
He was the prey.