The white floor vanished.
Dev's stomach lurched as he was dropped unceremoniously onto a bed of gnarled, twisted roots. He landed hard, his hands sinking into cold, damp earth. The air was thick, and the smell hit him like a physical blow—a sickening, coppery tang of old blood mixed with the rot of a million dead leaves.
The Weeping Woods.
A low, red moon hung in the black sky, casting everything in a hellish light. The trees were black, skeletal things, their branches dripping with the thick, dark-red sap that gave the place its name. And from the darkness, the skittering was real.
'It's real. It's all real.' The last bit of his denial shattered, leaving a cold, hard dread in its place.
Selina's words echoed in his mind. Faction Expulsion. Fodder.
He didn't scream. He didn't have time. His survival instincts, forged in the alley and his trial, took over.
'Status,' he thought, his voice trembling in his own mind.
The blue screen, his only ally in this nightmare, appeared.
Name: Dev
Level: 1
Faction: Ebonguard (Provisional)
STR: 3
AGI: 4
CON: 2
SPI: 7
RES: 15
Soul-Body Synchronization: 1.0%
Nexus Shards: 0
Soul-Essence: 0
His stats were still garbage. A Constitution of 2. He was fragile. He was prey.
Another screen floated next to it.
[Faction Mission Issued: The Weeping Woods]
[Objective: Survive one 'Sleep Cycle']
[Time Remaining: 07:59:51]
Eight hours. He had to survive here for eight hours.
The skittering was closer now. It was wet, like a dozen tiny, sharp legs on damp stone.
'Can't fight. Not strong enough. Hide.'
He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting through the oppressive gloom. He spotted a low-hanging branch on one of the larger, "weeping" trees. It was thick, and the shadows were deep. He lunged for it, his weak arms straining as he pulled himself up, his sneakers slipping on the blood-red sap. He settled onto the branch, his back pressed against the trunk, trying to control his ragged breathing.
He peered into the darkness below.
A creature emerged. It was the size of a large, skeletal rat, but it was no rodent. It moved on six, insect-like legs, its body a dark, chitinous shell. A long, needle-sharp proboscis twitched from its "face," sniffing the air. It ignored the spot where Dev had stood and scurried directly to the base of the tree, plunging its needle into a pool of sap and drinking greedily.
Blood-Sapper (Level 0)
The System helpfully provided the name. Level 0. Fodder.
Suddenly, another Sapper skittered out from behind a root. It didn't go for the tree. It saw the first Sapper and lunged.
Dev watched, his heart hammering, as the two creatures became a blur of screeching, clicking violence. They tore at each other, their sharp legs like tiny razors. It was a vicious, pathetic fight over a puddle of sap. The law of this world, he realized, was simple. Fodder eats fodder.
One Sapper finally gained the upper hand, flipping its rival onto its back and driving its proboscis into its softer underbelly. The loser convulsed and went still.
The victor, its needle dripping, turned back to the sap.
'Okay. They're weak. They fight each other. If I'm quiet... '
He shifted, trying to get a more stable position. His foot slipped on the sap. A small piece of bark, dislodged by his movement, snapped off and fell to the ground.
The sound was tiny. But it was enough.
The Blood-Sapper froze. Its head, a cluster of multi-faceted black eyes, swiveled. It ignored the sap. It ignored its dead rival. It tilted its head back and locked its gaze directly on Dev.
He was no longer just an observer. He was a new, bigger meal.
It moved.
It didn't climb; it ran up the side of the trunk, its sharp legs finding purchase in the bark with terrifying speed.
"Get back!" Dev yelled, kicking out in a blind panic.
His AGI: 4 was a joke. The creature dodged his foot like it was moving in slow motion. It lunged, not for his chest, but for his leg—the closest target.
Its needle-sharp proboscis sank deep into his calf.
The pain was identical to the trial. A cold, white-hot, spiritual fire that bypassed his nerves and tore at his very essence.
[WARNING: Soul-Integrity at 85%!]
"GAAAAH!" he screamed, a real, throat-tearing sound of agony. He grabbed the creature's writhing body, trying to pull it off, but its needle was barbed. It was hooked in his soul. It was drinking his Soul-Integrity.
[Soul-Integrity at 84%... 83%...]
Rage, pure and undiluted, drowned his fear. This thing, this bug, was going to kill him. It was just like Devis. Just like the Gutter-Scab. Another "filter."
"GET OFF ME!"
He didn't just pull. He roared, his voice a raw, hateful sound. He grabbed the Sapper's head with one hand, braced his other hand on his own leg, and ripped the proboscis out.
A spray of his own essence, looking like faint blue mist, erupted from the wound.
[Soul-Integrity at 75%!]
The creature shrieked, a high-pitched, needle-thin sound. It was wounded. But Dev wasn't done.
He was still holding it. Fueled by a cold, murderous fury, he raised the creature high and smashed its head against the tree trunk.
Thwack.
It screeched.
Thwack.
Its legs convulsed.
Thwack. Thwack. THWACK.
He didn't stop until it was a burst of black ichor and splintered chitin in his hand.
He threw the remains to the ground, his chest heaving, his "leg" burning with a cold fire. He was panting, his vision blurry.
Then, a new, beautiful sound chimed in his mind.
[Level 0 'Blood-Sapper' defeated.]
[+1 Nexus Shard]
[+1 Lesser Soul-Essence]
He stared at the prompt, his mind numb. All that. All that pain... for "1."
He looked at the wound on his calf. It wasn't bleeding, but it was "leaking"—a faint, blue mist rising from the tear in his soul-form. The smell of his own essence, mixed with the ichor of the dead Sapper, was now thick in the air.
He froze.
From the darkness all around him... a new sound.
Skitter-skitter-skitter.
Then another. And another.
Skitter-skitter-SKITTER.
He wasn't hidden anymore. He was wounded. And he had just rung the dinner bell.