The damp air clung to my lungs like a curse.
Days—weeks—months? I couldn't tell anymore. I had lost the ability to trust time in this abyssal pit. Here, the world was nothing but claws, hunger, breath caught between teeth, steel swinging, ichor spilling, and silence that never truly felt like silence.
My fingers traced the blade of Amujamu, the warped sword Orba forced into my hands. Not forged metal; it felt alive—vibrating faintly like a beast breathing in sleep. I still hated how it pulsed when I held it, as though the weapon fed on violence and breathed in blood.
Like everything in Abyss, it was a predator.
Even the things that were supposed to help you only helped themselves through you.
"…Still stuck," I muttered to myself.
My voice was hoarse, like I hadn't spoken in months. Maybe I hadn't. Words felt useless when every creature here only communicated in snarls, screeches, and the wet crack of bone.
I lifted my gaze toward the jagged ceiling of the pit. Dozens of meters high. I had tried climbing. The rock was slick like frozen flesh, and the deeper I carved handholds, the more it grew back—regenerating stone as if the Abyss itself refused to release me.
Orba's order echoed in my skull:
Live. Or die pathetically. But crawl out yourself.
So I carved. Fought. Ate the flesh of demonic beasts whose veins burned like molten tar. I heard whispers sometimes—like something crawling under my skin, nesting in my bones. Whether paranoia or truth, I did not know.
But the pain that lanced through my body every time my heart beat told me something was changing.
Wrongly changing.
Blood Evolution, Orba called it. Like a sick joke disguised as destiny.
At first it was subtle—a tingle behind my spine, the occasional pulse in my left arm. Then came the hunger; not for food but for struggle, for something to break, for something to devour, for something to bleed under my fingertips.
I swung Amujamu again, slicing through the fetid neck of a bat-faced wolf that dropped from the cavern ceiling. It thrashed even headless. Everything here refused to die like something normal. I finished it with a grunt, jamming the blade through its chest.
Black blood hissed as it splattered onto stone.
Steam rose. The air smelled like burning meat and sulfur.
A part of me… enjoyed it.
That frightened me more than the monsters.
I sat down against a jagged rock, breathing slow, feeling the strange warmth coil inside my ribs. My fingers twitched. Nails were harsher now, thicker, almost claw-like. My skin held faint dark patterns—veins of something not human.
I was becoming something else.
I didn't know what.
Did I fear it?
No.
Fear required the imagination to picture loss.
I had too little left to lose.
All I could do now was endure.
And kill.
I stood again. If I stopped moving, I'd die. Not from monsters, but from myself—from stagnation, madness, or whatever this damned place whispered into my mind.
My steps echoed as I moved deeper through a narrow cave corridor. The walls shimmered like sinew, organic in texture. They pulsed at times, like something breathing. Not reassuring. Nothing here ever reassured.
At the end, a faint glow. Like bioluminescent fungus. I followed it.
Then—silence.
Too silent.
A predator's silence.
The chamber I entered was vast—vaulted, cavernous, cold enough to bite marrow. Stone pillars reached upward like ribs of a dead god. And in the center…
A massive sealed door.
Not stone. Not bone.
Something older. Hungrier.
The Abyss breathed differently here—as though aware. Watching.
The moment felt wrong, familiar like a nightmare that remembers you. Sudden dread didn't come… my chest tightened instead with something twisted:
Recognition.
Why? How?
Then, a sound like fabric tearing reality apart.
Skrrttttch…
A long, sinuous shadow peeled from the ceiling. It moved without sound, without grace—it didn't need grace, because fear moved for it. Pale limbs unfolded, too many joints bending wrong. Hollow, pupil-less eyes like wet pearls stared.
The Silent Creeper.
But this one was larger than the others I encountered. As tall as three men, limbs dangling like knives from nightmares. It moved like a spider taught to mimic a corpse trying to dance.
When it opened its mouth…
Nothing.
Not a roar.
Not a breath.
Just silence that felt loud.
I tightened my grip on Amujamu. The blade hummed eagerly, like it sensed a feast.
I whispered to myself—
"…Move. Breathe. Kill."
The Creeper lunged, limbs stabbing like javelins. I dodged, sliding low, feeling wind slice my cheek. Another limb slammed down behind me; stone cracked like glass.
Blood trickled. Not mine. The Creeper's forelimb had brushed my blade and split open.
It didn't shriek.
Didn't writhe.
Just… stared, head twitching.
I slashed again, slicing skin like wax. Dark ichor spilled. I moved like I had trained for centuries, not years—raw instinct sharpened into cruelty.
But the creature adapted.
Limbs multiplied—two more sprouting from its back with wet tearing noises. They whipped toward me. One grazed ribs. I slid backward, boots scraping. Pain lanced across my side. Heat surged—burning, familiar, hungry.
Blood Evolution again.
I exhaled.
My right shoulder burned, spine vibrating—and with a tearing sensation like skin splitting under fire, one black wing burst out.
Not feathered.
Not elegant.
A jagged, bone-framed demon wing dripping black mist.
But one wing helped enough. Balance shifted, gravity bent just slightly in my favor.
The Creeper dove. I leapt sideways—wing twisting air. Mid-spin, I gripped Amujamu backhand, slicing through a limb. Its body spasmed, but no sound came.
Silent monsters. Silent death.
I slammed my elbow into its skull, blade carving upward, cleaving half its head.
Finally—it reacted.
A shrill, silent scream. Not heard—felt, vibrating in my skull like nails driven into thought. My vision warped. Knees buckled. Memories flashed—human ones.
Laughing in sunlight.
Bread.
Hands.
Warmth.
Someone crying my name—not here, not in Abyss.
It hurt.
I screamed back, but only voice inside mind answered:
Kill. Survive. No weakness.
I swung Amujamu in a furious arc. The blade caught the Creeper's core, tearing it in half. Black steam burst. Limbs twitched. Then its body dissolved like tar melting into the ground, leaving silence heavier than before.
Breath heaving, I staggered.
My wing dripped black, then retracted with a sickening crack into my spine.
Silence again.
Then a hum.
The massive sealed gate before me pulsed—responding to violence. It split open with a grinding sigh. Pale abyssal light spilled through. Wind, cold and ancient, swept out and dragged across my face.
Something whispered from beyond.
Not a voice.
A promise.
Or a threat.
Steel in hand, mind unresting, and veins burning, I stepped into the unknown.
And there—
A roar.
Not silent this time—raw, animalistic, violent enough the cave shook.
The Silent Creeper Alpha.
Massive, armored in bone-plated flesh like a fused centipede-spider-serpent covered in blades. Eyes like hollow stars. One twitch and the air split.
Behind me, the gate sealed shut.
Ambushed. Trapped.
I exhaled.
My fingers tightened on Amujamu.
"Come."
It charged. I met it head-on.
Claws raked my arm, tearing flesh. I sliced through tendons. It spun, tail spiked, puncturing my thigh. Pain flooded. Darkness surged.
Blood Evolution pulsed again—bones tightening, heart pumping like molten iron.
My senses sharpened—too sharp. Every sound cracked like glass. Every smell felt like a blade. Hunger clawed my ribs—not for food, but for violence.
I lunged faster than thought. Blade screaming as it tore across its skull. Bone splintered. I jammed my hand into a wound—ripping. Warm ichor spilled, burning skin. My hair whipped like black thread in wind. I bit down on pain. Roared back.
This was survival.
Nothing else existed.
Slash. Tear. Survive.
One step from madness.
One breath from death.
Then—opening.
I drove Amujamu through its core. The blade ignited, black-crimson runes devouring life. The beast convulsed. Black fire spread through flesh, bursting from within. It flailed one final time—
—and fell.
Silence again.
I collapsed to a knee, breath shaking. Vision blurred. Body spasmed—evolution clawing deeper. My arm twitched uncontrollably. Chest burned. Heart pounded like a demon pounding on rib cage trying to escape.
I glanced at Amujamu.
It pulsed—brighter, drinking life, growing darker. Whispers ran along the blade like murmurs underwater.
Not weapon.
Parasite.
Partner.
…Same thing in Abyss.
My stomach growled—not human hunger. A sick craving. Beast flesh still clung to my teeth. I hated it. Needed it. Wanted it. Disgust. Desire. War inside.
A laugh escaped me. Strange, broken, empty.
"Still alive," I muttered.
That counted as victory.
Somewhere deep inside, I feared what I was becoming.
Somewhere deeper, I welcomed it.
I looked up at the cavern roof—too far, too cruel, too uncaring.
"I'm climbing out," I whispered.
I didn't believe it yet.
But I would.
And if I became a monster before reaching the top…
Then the world above would learn to fear whatever crawled out of this hell.
Even if that thing was me.