The night was a symphony of the macabre—crawling, growling, and the persistent sound of claws dragging against the faculty building's exterior. But the walls held.
As the sun began to illuminate the campus, Primo and Wyn prepared for departure. Their bags were packed, their weapons checked, and their goal was set: evolve Wyn to Level 2 and then make a break for the shelter to follow Pyro's group. The school was becoming a buffet for predators, and they were no longer interested in being on the menu.
They waited until the sun was fully up since Wyn still lacked any form of night vision. Stepping outside, the world felt different to Primo. His Vibration Sense was humming, picking up the frantic scurrying of small mutated life in the grass. He kept his eyes moving—left, right, and crucially, up. The memory of the diving crow from the night before was burned into his mind.
They moved toward the nearest academic building, a five-story structure. The first few rooms were locked tight, but Primo's Great Ear caught a distinct rustling in one of the ground-floor classrooms. Peering through the glass, they saw two mutated rats—each the size of a badger—frantically digging through a tipped-over garbage can.
"They're trapped," Primo whispered. "They probably mutated in here and grew too big to slip back out the way they came."
The plan was simple: fast and loud.
CRACK.
Wyn's axe slammed into the doorknob, shearing the metal clean off. They slipped inside, kicking the door shut behind them. The rats shrieked, their red eyes wide with terror as they tried to squeeze behind a bookshelf. Their bloated, mutated bodies jammed against the wood, leaving them cornered.
Primo rushed forward. He wanted this over quickly; the sound of the door breaking was a beacon for anything nearby. As one rat broke away and dashed for the opposite corner, Primo felt a strange tightness in his chest and throat.
Acting on instinct, he gathered a surge of energy and spat. A sticky, white projectile shot from his mouth, expanding in mid-air like a blossoming flower of death.
[Web (E)] Activated
The web wasn't a perfect shot—it caught the rat's lower half and pinned its tail and hind legs to the tile floor—but it was enough. The adhesive was incredibly strong, and the rat's frantic clawing only tangled it further.
While the first rat struggled, Primo turned to the second, which was desperately gnawing at the bookshelf to create an escape hole. He leveled his spear and lunged.
SHUCK.
The spear point found its mark, skewering the beast through its ribcage. It let out one final, piercing shriek before going limp.
Primo knelt to extract the core, glancing back to see Wyn finishing off the trapped rat with a single, decisive axe blow. They worked with the efficiency of a seasoned team.
Wyn stood up, wiping his brow. "That's two."
Primo handed the first core to his friend, a small smile forming. "One more to go, and you're Level—"
The smile vanished.
Primo's Vibration Sense flared. Through the soles of his shoes, he felt it: heavy, rhythmic thuds. Footsteps. Multiple sets, and they were moving fast—straight toward the classroom.
"Let's go. Now!" Primo's voice was sharp with authority.
They ducked out of the room. The broken doorknob meant they couldn't lock it behind them. Primo scanned the hallway. To their left was the main staircase.
"Up!" Primo signaled. "The stairs will bottleneck them. We take the high ground."
They scrambled up the first flight of stairs, making a sharp 180° turn at the landing to reach the second-floor level. Heart rates spiking, they turned to face the way they came, weapons gripped tight. Primo's Vibration Sense was screaming now—the primary threat was seconds away, with a second, slower set of footsteps trailing further behind.
Suddenly, a black, slick-furred shape blurred into view, charging up the steps. It was a mutated dog, similar to the one Primo had encountered on his first day, but this one moved with terrifying fluidity. The stairs did little to slow its momentum.
Primo stepped forward, positioning himself as the vanguard. The beast lunged, its jaws snapping shut on Primo's forearm which he had raised as a shield.
[Skill Activated: Stone Skin (C)]
The dog's teeth grated against his arm with the sound of grinding pebbles. It bit down with bone-crushing force, but to its visible shock, no blood flowed. The skin was as cold and hard as granite.
Seizing the moment of the beast's confusion, Primo drove one of his kitchen knives into the dog's flank. The creature let out a sharp yelp, releasing its grip and backing off toward the edge of the steps, growling low in its throat. It recognized Primo as a genuine threat.
Before they could press the advantage, two more dogs rounded the corner. These were less mutated, looking like typical strays that had only just begun to change. They took their places flanking the black dog, who clearly acted as the pack leader.
Primo didn't flinch. He kept his "stone" arm raised, knife held in a reverse grip. The two subordinates barked once and leaped simultaneously, aiming to tear into his legs and chest.
"Now!" Primo shouted.
He dropped into a low crouch, clearing the line of sight for Wyn, who had been coiled like a spring behind him.
[Skill Activated: Great Strength (D)]
Wyn stepped into the space Primo vacated, swinging his axe in a massive horizontal arc. The heavy steel caught the first dog mid-air, the impact so immense that it slammed the creature into its twin. Both beasts were sent flying, crashing hard into the concrete side wall of the stairwell with a sickening crunch of bone.
Seeing his pack crippled, the black leader lunged for Wyn, hoping to catch the varsity player while his axe was extended. But Primo's senses had already mapped the trajectory.
[Skill Activated: Quick Jumps (E)]
Primo launched himself upward, intercepting the dog's path in mid-air. He slammed his weight into the beast, driving his knife deep into its upper back. The dog went frantic, thrashing wildly. Primo was forced to let go of the handle as the leader tumbled off the steps, crashing down onto the landing below.
One of the subordinate dogs lay motionless, its side caved in by the axe. The other was dazed, struggling to stand on broken limbs. Wyn didn't hesitate; he moved in and finished the survivor with a swift, merciful blow.
Below them, the pack leader was crawling away, a trail of dark blood marking its path. It was weakened and desperate, its predatory confidence shattered.
Primo didn't let up. He used Quick Jumps again, this time vaulting over the stair railing. He dropped through the air and landed squarely on the retreating dog's back, pinning it to the floor. Grabbing the hilt of the knife still buried in its spine, Primo pulled it free and drove it back down—again and again. He let out a low groan of exertion with every strike until the leader's growls faded into a final, rattling breath.