Ethan Stella didn't notice the blood at first.
He only felt the heat.
It ran down the side of his neck, slow and sticky, soaking into the collar of his jacket as he forced himself to keep moving. His breath came out uneven, sharp pulls that burned his throat. The tunnel ahead stretched longer than it should have, the dim dungeon lights flickering like they were about to give out.
Behind him, something scraped against the stone.
Too close.
Ethan didn't turn around.
Turning meant slowing down. Slowing down meant dying.
"Just a little more…" he muttered under his breath, though he wasn't sure what he was talking to anymore. Himself, maybe. Or just the silence pressing in around him.
The dungeon was rated low-tier.
That's what they told him.
Beginner-safe. Easy clear. A place to get started.
He almost laughed at that.
Another scrape echoed, followed by a low, dragging sound. The thing chasing him wasn't fast, but it didn't need to be. It didn't get tired. It didn't hesitate.
Ethan stumbled, catching himself against the wall. His hand came away darker than before.
He was losing too much blood.
"Damn it…"
He risked a glance over his shoulder.
The creature stepped into view just far enough for him to see its outline. Tall. Wrong in a way he couldn't fully process. Its limbs bent at angles that didn't make sense, dragging slightly as it moved, as if something inside it had already snapped.
Its head tilted.
It knew.
Ethan pushed himself forward again.
He'd watched enough streams to know how this ended. People like him—underprepared, alone, thinking they could get lucky—didn't make it out.
They became clips.
Short, brutal videos that other people watched while eating or scrolling, leaving comments like "should've dodged" or "skill issue."
He clenched his jaw.
Not like this.
The tunnel opened slightly ahead, widening just enough to give him space. That wasn't relief. Open space in a dungeon just meant fewer places to hide.
His foot caught on uneven ground.
For a second, he thought he recovered.
Then his leg gave out.
Ethan hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. The world tilted, blurred, then sharpened again in pieces. He tried to push himself up, but his arm shook under his weight.
The scraping sound stopped.
That was worse.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
The creature stood a few steps away now.
Watching him.
No rush. No sudden movement. Just… waiting.
Like it already knew how this ended.
Ethan's fingers curled against the stone.
Think.
There had to be something. A weapon, a trick, anything—
A faint blue flicker appeared at the edge of his vision.
He blinked.
For a second, he thought it was just his sight failing.
Then it stabilized.
[Stream Activated]
[Viewers: 1]
Ethan stared at it.
"…What?"
That didn't make sense.
He hadn't registered for streaming. He didn't have the equipment, the clearance, any of it. Even if he did, nobody watched first-time nobodies in low-tier dungeons.
And yet—
Viewers: 1
A small text box appeared beneath it.
Empty.
Waiting.
Ethan let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh.
"Yeah, great timing," he muttered. "Whoever you are, you picked a bad show."
The creature took a step forward.
Stone cracked softly under its weight.
Ethan's focus snapped back.
He forced his body to move, dragging himself backward, trying to get his legs under him again. His vision blurred at the edges.
He wasn't going to make it.
The text box flickered.
Then—
Stop moving.
Ethan froze.
Not because he listened.
Because it caught him off guard.
"…What?"
The message stayed there. Simple. Plain.
No username. No icon.
Just words.
The creature moved again.
Closer.
Ethan's instincts screamed at him to move, to roll, to do something—but his body hesitated for half a second longer than it should have.
The creature's limb swung.
It missed him.
By inches.
The motion carried it slightly past him, its balance shifting just enough.
Ethan didn't think.
He reacted.
His hand shot out, grabbing a broken shard of stone near him. He drove it forward with everything he had left, aiming where the creature's posture had opened.
The shard sank in.
Not deep. Not clean.
But enough.
The creature jerked violently, letting out a sound that wasn't quite a scream.
Ethan shoved himself away, scrambling back, heart hammering.
The text flickered again.
Now move.
This time, he didn't question it.
He got to his feet, legs unsteady, and ran.
Behind him, the creature thrashed, slower now, its movements less controlled. It tried to follow, but something about the strike had thrown it off.
Ethan didn't look back again.
He just ran.
By the time he reached the exit gate, his body was barely holding together.
The light hit him all at once.
Too bright.
Too clean.
He stumbled through, collapsing onto the ground outside the dungeon, the solid concrete under him feeling unreal after the uneven stone.
Voices blurred somewhere nearby.
Someone shouting. Footsteps.
He didn't catch the words.
His focus drifted back to the faint blue screen still hovering in his vision.
[Viewers: 1]
The chat box blinked.
You almost died.
Ethan let out a weak breath.
"…No kidding."
His head felt heavy. His thoughts came slower now, slipping between clarity and fog.
His eyes stayed on the text.
You listened, though.
There was a pause.
Then—
Good.
Ethan swallowed, throat dry.
Something about the wording felt… off.
Not wrong. Just—
Too familiar.
Like it wasn't just commenting.
Like it was watching.
He shifted slightly, wincing as pain shot through his side.
"…Who are you?" he asked quietly.
No answer.
For a moment, he thought that was it. That whatever glitch this was would fade out, disappear once his body finally gave in and the medics took over.
Then the text appeared again.
I was watching the whole time.
Ethan's fingers tightened slightly against the ground.
A faint chill ran through him, cutting through the exhaustion.
Watching.
Not the stream.
Not just now.
The whole time.
He didn't know why that bothered him more than it should.
His vision dimmed at the edges.
The last message came just before everything faded.
You're mine now.
Then the screen went dark.
And so did he.