Kyle's hands remained firm on the hilt of his blade, knuckles pale from the tension. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, tracing the treeline with predatory focus. The silence pressed against his eardrums, suffocating in its completeness.
Then, a rustle.
His muscles coiled, ready to draw the weapon in a single fluid motion. From between two massive oaks, something emerged—slow, cautious, elegant.
An antelope.
Its coat was a rich brown dappled with white spots, pristine and unblemished. Large, glassy eyes regarded him with mild curiosity rather than fear.
The creature took another tentative step forward, ears twitching as it assessed this strange intruder in its domain.
Kyle exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. His grip loosened, and he allowed his hand to fall away from the blade, letting it rest back in its sheath with a soft click.
"Just an antelope," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing more."
The creature held his gaze for a moment longer before bounding away into the underbrush, disappearing as silently as it had appeared. Kyle watched it go, then turned his attention back to his surroundings.
And truly looked.
The forest was... magnificent.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden streams, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Ferns unfurled in clusters, their fronds a vibrant emerald that seemed almost luminescent. Wildflowers dotted the landscape—small bursts of purple, yellow, and white that added splashes of color to the sea of green.
"It's beautiful," Kyle breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
He began walking, his steps slow and deliberate, absorbing every detail like a child seeing the world for the first time. His fingers brushed against rough bark as he passed towering trees, feeling the ridges and grooves worn by countless seasons. Overhead, birds resumed their songs—melodic trills that echoed through the branches.
'I've seen forests before, but nothing like this. Nothing so... alive.'
A butterfly with iridescent blue wings fluttered past his face, and he paused to watch it dance through the air. His lips parted slightly, wonder evident in his expression despite his usual composure.
The forest seemed endless, a labyrinth of natural beauty that beckoned him deeper. He walked for nearly twenty minutes, his marvel never quite fading, until something caught his eye—a dark opening carved into a hillside, partially obscured by hanging vines and moss.
A cave.
Kyle's smile widened as he approached, brushing aside the vegetation to peer inside. The interior was spacious, the ceiling high enough that he wouldn't need to stoop. The ground was relatively dry, and the entrance faced away from prevailing winds.
"Lucky," he said aloud, satisfaction coloring his tone. "Really lucky."
'This will work perfectly. Shelter for four days, protection from the elements and anything that hunts at night. I can use this as a base while I hunt for spawns.'
He knew the rules well enough. Killing ordinary animals like that antelope would grant him nothing—no points, no recognition. But spawns, the monsters that had begun appearing across the world since the awakening phenomenon, those were different. Each kill was registered automatically by the instructors' systems, converted into points that would determine his evaluation.
Kyle stepped inside and began his work.
First, he cleared debris—fallen branches, loose stones, and scattered leaves were swept toward the entrance and discarded. His movements were efficient, practiced, lacking the hesitance of someone unfamiliar with manual labor.
'Since I was a child, I've been different. Unique in my own way.'
He gathered dry wood from the surrounding area, stacking it neatly near the cave's rear wall for later use. Using a flat stone, he smoothed out the sleeping area, ensuring no sharp rocks would dig into his back during rest. He even fashioned a crude barrier at the entrance using heavier branches—not enough to keep out a determined predator, but sufficient to alert him if something tried to enter.
When he finally stepped back to admire his work, the cave had transformed. It wasn't luxurious, but it was functional. Hospitable.
"Good enough," Kyle said, nodding to himself.
He glanced outside at the sun's position—still plenty of daylight left. Time to begin the real work.
Kyle ventured back into the forest, his senses heightened now that he had a base established. He moved with purpose, blade within easy reach, shield secure against his back.
The forest revealed itself in layers. He spotted a family of rabbits darting beneath a hollowed log, their cotton-tails flashing white. A fox observed him from a distance, amber eyes intelligent and wary. Squirrels chattered from high branches, scolding him for disturbing their territory.
Further in, he discovered a stream—clear water babbling over smooth stones, flanked by clusters of ferns and moss-covered rocks. He knelt briefly to splash water on his face, the cold shocking his system into further alertness.
'Plenty of wildlife. Good terrain. But where are the spawns?'
He continued deeper, careful to mark his path mentally by noting distinctive trees and landmarks. The sun began its descent, casting longer shadows that painted the forest in hues of amber and gold.
Then, he sensed it.
The shift in the air was subtle but unmistakable—a metallic tang that coated his tongue, thick and coppery. Blood.
Kyle froze, his hand moving to his blade instinctively. His heartbeat remained steady, but his pupils dilated, taking in every detail.
Before he could react—
"GRAHHHHHHH!"
The roar was guttural, primal, a sound that vibrated through his chest and sent birds scattering from nearby trees in panicked flight. It echoed off the trunks, reverberating until it seemed to come from everywhere at once.
From the shadows ahead, something massive emerged.
The creature was wrong. Fundamentally, horrifically wrong.
It stood nearly eight feet tall, hunched forward on legs thick as tree trunks. Bulging arms ended in claws that curved like sickles, each one stained dark with dried blood. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation—the muscular torso of a man, the hunched posture and fangs of a wolf, and the raw, terrible strength of a bear. Pores covered its skin, weeping a viscous yellow fluid that dripped onto the forest floor with sizzling hisses. Patchy fur sprouted in irregular clusters, matted and filthy.
Its eyes were the worst part. Yellow and bloodshot, filled with mindless hunger and pain.
Kyle drew his sword in one smooth motion, the blade singing as it left the sheath. Simultaneously, a translucent screen flickered to life before his eyes—visible only to him, rendered in crisp lines of azure light.
| TOXIN VARIANT |
| Classification: Spawn - Corrupted Evolution |
| Tier: 1 |
Toxin variants represented a particularly nasty subspecies among tier-one spawns. Unlike standard corrupted creatures, these had developed rudimentary poison glands that secreted caustic fluids through their pores. The toxin wasn't immediately lethal to awakened individuals, but prolonged exposure caused necrosis and severe burning. Physical contact was inadvisable. Close-quarters combat required precision—one mistake, one graze from those seeping claws, and infection was guaranteed.
| ATTRIBUTES |
• Strength: 27
• Speed: 9
• Intelligence: 4
• Endurance: 34
• Mind: 5
Kyle's eyes swept across the data, processing it in microseconds. His jaw tightened.
'System,' he thought, the command automatic.
Another panel materialized, this one displaying his own information in the same clinical format.
| KYLE FARRELL |
| Age: 18 |
| Race: Human (Awakened) |
| ATTRIBUTES |
• Strength: 15
• Speed: 14
• Intelligence: 12
• Endurance: 12
• Mind: 13
| ABILITY: Thought — [DATA RESTRICTED] |
The human limit sat at fifteen for all attributes—the peak of what an unawakened person could achieve through training and genetics alone. Beyond that threshold lay the realm of the superhuman, accessible only to those who had undergone awakening. Kyle had barely crossed that line in strength and speed, his other attributes still firmly within human parameters.
The toxin variant, despite being tier-one, outclassed him significantly in raw power and durability.
Kyle's grip tightened on his blade as the creature took a lumbering step forward, yellow fluid dripping from its claws and burning small holes in the earth.
"Alright then," he whispered, his voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding his system. "Let's see what I can do."