"It's too cold."
The first thing I blurt out after I close my eyes — just for a mere moment, I thought. My body doesn't feel like it used to. It's lighter, more hollow. My stomach twists like I'm about to puke, though I don't know why. I try to breathe, but it feels forced. Wrong. Unnatural.
I open my eyes and slowly push myself up, trembling a little. Nothing except silence stretches through this forest. I try to remember who I was before this — my name, my face, anything.
And then, for a moment, a shadow of a thought comes back. Jay.
That was supposed to be me. But there's no weight to it anymore. No meaning. It doesn't feel like mine.
It's weird as hell.
I examine my hands. They look the same, except… ashy. The same brown hands I remember from being Jay — me. My hair feels the same too, shoulder-length black dreads. I still remember getting them redone recently. Or at least Jay does.
Before I can even start moving, before I can even take in my surroundings, a voice cuts through my head — the voice of what I'd call a middle-aged woman.
"Special Skill: Archive, activated."
"Who the hell's there?!" I bark, snatching a stick off the ground and whipping around. Nothing but trees. Forest. Lots and lots of forest.
"Designation: Ash Demon. Name: Kirai. Rank: F. Power Level: negligible."
The voice isn't robotic. It sounds… soft. Almost motherly. Which is somehow worse.
It even sounds familiar, though I don't let myself think about that for long.
I let out a laugh — bitter, sharp. "Kirai? That's my name? What a crappy-ass name. Sounds horrible."
Like hell I'm gonna accept that.
The only thing on my mind right now is finding a way back home. Last thing I remember was falling asleep. Or maybe blacking out. It's all fuzzy. But I sure as hell hope I didn't just die in my sleep.
"Magic Style: Flexible."
The woman's voice echoes again in my skull. Flexible? What the hell's that supposed to mean? Could she maybe elaborate a little?
I don't even bother replying. Instead, I force my foot forward — one step.
That's when I hear it.
A guttural howl, ripping through the distance.
My fists clench. My throat feels dry. And then I see it.
The howl lingers in the air. My stomach sinks. I don't need to see what made that sound to know it's nothing good.
"Of course. Because why wouldn't the creepy forest also have monsters in it."
I grip the stick tighter. It's rough, splintering in my hands, but it's all I've got.
[Analysis complete.]The voice again. She's annoying.[Threat approaching: Class—Feral Warg. Rank: E. Strength: equivalent to five Ash Demons.]
"…Great, five of me."
[Correction: You are unlikely to win in direct combat. Recommendation: Utilize environment. Target weaknesses: eyes, throat, underbelly.]
I let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, great. Just play dead and hope it chokes on me. Wonderful plan."
My heart jumps. Something moves between the trees, fast.
And then whatever the hell it is comes out.
I would say its a wolf. No, that's too kind a word. It's hunched, bones showing under its skin, eyes burning red. Its breath steams like smoke, and when its mouth opens, its teeth drip with saliva that hisses as it hits the ground.
The Feral Warg locks eyes with me, what the hell. My chest tightens.
"…Hell.."
It lunges.
I don't move, it feels like somebody else inside me does, and I throw myself sideways, rolling across the dirt. The wolf slams into a tree where I'd been standing, splintering bark. My arms sting from the fall, but I force myself up, raising the stick.
The Warg snarls, snapping its head toward me again. Too fast. Too strong. One hit and I'm done.
"Anytime you wanna give me more than fun facts, hag, I'd appreciate it."
[Skill available: Ash Demon innate—Ash Veil.]
"What the hell is—"
Before I can finish, the air around me ripples. Smoke, no, ash, seeps from my skin, curling around my arms and face like a shroud. My vision blurs but sharpens at the same time. The world looks muted, washed out.
The wolf freezes, confused. Its head tilts, nostrils flaring.
It can't smell me.
"…Okay. That's something."
The Warg growls, uncertain, but then charges anyway. I dive to the side, this time closer, and jab the stick straight into its eye.
The crack is sickening. The wolf howls, thrashing.
The stick snaps in half. My hands sting. My heart is racing too hard to even think straight.
The wolf swipes blindly, claws grazing my arm and tearing through the skin like paper. Fire shoots up my nerves.
I stagger back, blood dripping. My body screams at me to give up. To run. But there's nowhere to run to.
"…Guess it's me or you."
I grab the broken half of the stick, grit my teeth, and when the wolf lowers its head to lunge again, I drive it upward into its throat.
A wet gurgle. The beast thrashes once, twice, then collapses in a heap.
The forest falls silent again.
I stand there, chest heaving even though I don't need the air, blood running down my arm. My hands shake so bad I almost drop the stick.
And then, of course, the voice chimes in.
[First successful hunt. Primitive weapon usage noted. Physical durability: poor. Psychological state: unstable.]
I laugh. Bitter. "Thanks for the pep talk. Really."
I start walking again, to get my mind off things.
The forest stretched forever.
Every tree looked the same, black bark, cracked branches, roots twisting like veins. No sun. No stars. Just the faint glow of ash drifting in the air like snow. Every breath felt like inhaling smoke.
I don't know how long I'd been walking. Minutes? Hours? My legs burned, my arm throbbed from the cut.
Another sound snaps my head up. This time, it's heavier. Not one creature. Several.
Through the trees, I see them—shapes moving. Big ones. Too big.
[Analysis: Demon variants detected. Estimated ranks: D–C. Current survival chance—less than 0.5%.]
"Fantastic."
I crouch low, forcing myself still. My hands grip the dirt. My lungs burn like I need air. The shadows grow closer. I catch glimpses of them—twisted figures, some crawling, some dragging weapons made of bone.
They don't notice me. Not yet.
"Anytime now, lady. Got any tricks for not dying horribly?"
[Skill acquisition possible. Archive suggests: Adaptive Camouflage.]
"…Camouflage? Why wasn't that on the table before?!"
[Condition met: You experienced life-threatening fear, focused on concealment. Archive is a reflection of instinct, not a menu.]
"So basically, I have to almost piss myself before you hand me anything useful. Perfect."
The air ripples again. My skin tingles, vision distorts—and suddenly, I'm fading into the environment. My body blurs, taking on the same muted gray and black of the forest.
The demons pass. They snarl, laugh, smash their claws into trees, but none of them look my way.
I don't breathe. Don't move.
And slowly, the pack disappears into the dark.
The ash clears. My body flickers back into view.
I drop onto my ass, chest heaving. "Holy shit. That… actually worked."
[Skill confirmed: Adaptive Camouflage. Rank: E. Function: temporary concealment from visual and magical detection. Cost: stamina and focus.]
A grin tugs at my lips. Weak. Shaky. "…Guess I'm not totally useless."
The forest groans, almost in protest. Somewhere distant, another howl rises, this one deeper, shaking the ground.
My grin fades.
"…Yeah. I need to get out of here."
Hag Lady's voice comes again, calm this time.
[Exit identified. Rift anomaly located westward. Probability: unstable gateway beyond Netherveil.]
I'm gonna take a guess that this hellish place is Netherveil. Name matches place, I guess. But its' a way out. Finally. I stagger back to my feet. My body feels like it's already falling apart, but my legs move anyway. Toward the west. Toward the rift. The further west I walked, the worse it got.
The forest thinned, but not in a way that made me feel safer. The trees grew skeletal, their bark peeling back to reveal pulsing veins of ash-red light. The ground cracked under my feet, smoke seeping up like the earth itself was exhaling.
Every step was heavier. Like something in the air wanted me to stop.
"Hag lady… you sure about this? Because this feels like the kind of path idiots walk down before they die horribly."
[Affirmation: Rift anomaly detected ahead. Distortion confirmed. This is the only exit point.]
"…Figures."
I kept going, even as my legs shook. The air thickened, humming with pressure that made my bones ache. I felt it before I saw it—like the world had a scar.
Then it came into view.
A tear. Floating in the air above a jagged cliffside. The rift rippled like water, colors bending wrong—blues, purples, and shadows twisting in on themselves. Beyond it, faint light. A different world.
My throat tightened. "…That's it. That's out."
And then the ground shook. A roar split the silence, so loud it rattled my skull. From the cracks in the cliffside, something pulled itself free. It wasn't a wolf. Or a demon. It was worse.
A towering mass of blackened bone and molten flesh, its head split with too many jaws. Ash poured from its body with every step, choking the air. Its eyes were pits of fire.
[Warning: Abyssborn detected. Rank: C+. Probability of survival: less than 0.5%.]
"…Of course I can't get the easy way out."
The creature lunged. I threw myself sideways, rolling across the scorched ground as its claw smashed where I'd been, leaving a crater. My body screamed. My head spun. I couldn't fight this thing. I couldn't—
[Directive: Adaptation possible. Archive recommends triggering latent skill: Consume Ash.]
"Consume—what?!"
Instinct took over before thought did. My hand shot out, plunging into the ash pouring from its body. The moment my skin touched it, something snapped inside me.
The ash surged into me. Burning. Filling. My body trembled as the cloud wrapped around my arms, sinking into my veins.
[Skill unlocked: Ash Devourer. Rank: D. Function: absorb ambient ash to restore stamina and temporarily enhance strength.]
I staggered back, panting. My body felt heavy, but stronger. My limbs steadier.
The monster roared again, swinging its claw down.
This time, I didn't dodge. I raised both arms, ash swirling up around me like armor, and braced. The impact drove me into the dirt—but I held. Barely. My bones felt like they'd snap, but the ash burned bright, reinforcing me. I screamed, shoving upward, and the claw lifted just enough for me to twist free. I dove for the broken ground, toward the rift, every step tearing my body apart.
The monster howled, reaching again. Then. The rift sucked at me, dragging my body forward like gravity itself wanted me gone. The last thing I saw was the Abyssborn's burning eyes, glaring at me from the other side of the cliff. Then the light swallowed me whole. Am I going to die again?