It had been another day since I ate that exquisite piece of meat.
Even without any flavor, it was still the most satisfying meal I had ever had… and not just because of the hunger.
The moment the poorly cooked meat entered my stomach, pain erupted through my body. My insides twisted violently, as though my body itself rejected the idea of digestion after starving for so long.
But then something changed.
No… something adapted.
Heat spread through my hollow body almost instantly. Not strength—not yet, but movement. The constant trembling in my limbs eased slightly, and the dizziness clouding my vision loosened just enough for me to think clearly again.
The ache buried deep within my bones sharpened before slowly calming down, almost like my body was arguing with itself over what should collapse first and what could still be salvaged.
Then came the deeper sensation.
A crawling tightness beneath my skin.
Muscles trying to remember their shape.
Starved flesh greedily pulling at every scrap of nourishment it could find.
And beneath all of that…
Something unstable stirred.
My atma.
A dying flame consuming both the oil and the lamp together.
But now the fuel had changed.
The warmth from the meat did not stop at my stomach or blood. It sank deeper inward, into that fractured current coiled somewhere behind my heartbeat.
The effect was immediate.
My atma latched onto it hungrily.
Violently.
A sharp pulse tore through me so suddenly that I nearly choked. The air around my body trembled for an instant, nearby leaves shifting despite the stillness of the forest. The cracks left behind by reckless overuse slowly began pulling together, unstable strands forcing themselves back into alignment.
"…so this was the natural way to replenish my atma."
The realization should have excited me more.
Instead, it left me uneasy.
Because my atma was no longer merely sustaining me.
It was rebuilding me.
And rebuilding required more fuel.
Which meant hunting again…
The tiger occasionally followed behind me now.
At other times, I was the one trailing behind it.
Rarely did we move side by side, yet whenever we stopped to rest, it always settled somewhere close enough for me to hear its breathing.
I still had no idea why.
I tried communicating with it through anything I could think of… words, gestures, drawings scratched into dirt with sticks… I even attempted telepathy once, which in hindsight probably just made me look insane.
Still, the tiger watched me sometimes with a gaze that felt too aware.
If I was right, it possessed intelligence far beyond a normal beast.
Though maybe that was natural now.
This world had already stopped following normal logic long ago.
Or maybe the tiger itself was special.
I did eventually confirm one important detail, though.
It was a male.
The tiger's behavior itself was strange. From what I could tell, it seemed to be searching for territory… somewhere with enough prey and water to survive long term.
Though honestly,
We had not encountered another living creature since the deer.
And even that had probably been a miracle.
The animal was most likely separated from its herd and wandering aimlessly trying to find its way back.
Unfortunately for it…
We found it first.
Still, none of that explained why the tiger chose to remain near me.
Maybe it sensed something went wrong with the land.
Maybe it sensed the rift directly.
Or maybe it simply realized I was moving with purpose and decided following me increased its chances of survival.
That last explanation made the most sense.
At least, it was the only one that didn't make me feel insane.
I glanced toward the tiger walking ahead through the trees.
"…still suspicious though."
The tiger flicked an ear but otherwise ignored me.
At least I had company now.
That realization alone felt stranger than it should have.
Somewhere along the way, the silence had stopped feeling empty.
Which was exactly why I ended up fixating on something stupid.
A name.
The idea refused to leave my head no matter how ridiculous it was. Maybe because names made things feel less temporary.
Less like survival.
Less like two creatures simply walking in the same direction until one of them died.
Another day passed.
The harsh mountain ranges were slowly giving way to an endless stretch of dense forest. The air had become heavier here, damp with moisture and thick with the smell of moss and wet bark.
Water was becoming a problem now, so I gathered several thick bamboo shoots and hollowed them out into crude containers, tying them together with vines before slinging them across my shoulder.
I even offered some water to the tiger during the journey.
It accepted with all the enthusiasm of a king tolerating a peasant.
The sun had already begun sinking behind the trees, staining the forest in deep orange shadows, and I still hadn't managed to come up with a proper name.
Every idea sounded horrible.
Most sounded like names for dogs.
The rest sounded completely deranged.
'Asteroid Destroyer.'
"…was I always this bad at naming things?" I muttered.
The tiger glanced back at me briefly.
Honestly… I couldn't even tell if it was judging me or not anymore.
The strange part was how calm the day had been.
Too calm.
I had not sensed a single asura creature since morning.
At first I considered it a blessing.
Now it just felt wrong.
The forest had grown quieter as evening approached. Not silent… but restrained. Like the wilderness itself was listening.
Then I heard it.
A deep throbbing beat rolled across the canopy.
Not footsteps.
Wings.
The sound reached us before the creature itself appeared, each beat striking the air like distant war drums wrapped in thunder.
My body tensed immediately.
The tiger stopped walking.
Then the sky darkened.
A massive shape emerged above the trees, gliding across the fading sunlight.
A great hornbill.
People from villages near forests often mistook the sound of its wings for distant storms. By the time they realized the truth, the creature had already passed overhead.
Back home, those sounds carried meaning.
Not death.
But of violence approaching.
The tiger stepped into the glade ahead and released a deafening roar toward the sky.
"that stupid.." I almost cried out.
The hornbill answered with a cry sharp enough to make the forest recoil.
It hovered above us with terrifying ease, massive wings spreading wide enough to blot out the remaining sunlight for moments at a time.
Its feathers were the color of burnt charcoal, coated in an oily violet sheen that shifted unnaturally beneath the light. The casque above its beak resembled cracked obsidian more than bone, dim crimson veins pulsing across its surface whenever it called out.
Even the forest reacted to it.
Insects fell silent.
Birds vanished deeper into the trees.
The air itself seemed heavier beneath its presence.
Its asura energy was dense.
Dangerous.
Yet the feeling it gave me was different from the others.
It reminded me of the snake.
Not because it was stronger than the tiger…
But because something about it felt intelligent in the worst possible way.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, the hornbill suddenly twisted its neck toward my hiding place.
And stared directly at me.
A chill crawled through my spine.
I barely possessed enough atma to reinforce my body properly, and I had concealed myself carefully.
So how did it find me?
I slowly stepped out from the trees, preparing myself to fight alongside the tiger if necessary.
But the hornbill never attacked.
Instead, it screamed.
The sound exploded across the forest before the creature launched itself upward in a violent burst of wind. Its wings hammered the air with booming cracks as it shot toward the northern treeline, its cries echoing again and again through the darkening canopy.
The tiger continued staring after it.
And I understood immediately.
It was warning something.
No…
Calling them.
This creature was never hunting alone.
A cold realization settled into my stomach.
If I had to guess…
That thing was most likely a scout sent by the rift… to find me.