The cold truth lingered—harsh, undeniable, and utterly unwelcome. It gnawed at Raze's peace through the suffocating darkness, a constant reminder that survival here was measured in heartbeats, not hours. With the highest vigilance he could muster, he pushed forward, swallowed whole by the void that surrounded him. Each step felt like wading through tar, the darkness pressing against his skin with almost physical weight.
Whether by faith or sheer luck, he encountered no other terrors during his search for shelter. He'd learned long ago that wandering aimlessly was a death sentence. In his previous life, he'd watched countless fools march into oblivion, convinced their destination lay just beyond the next ridge. Raze had no intention of joining their ranks. Not here. Not in a place where the sky itself seemed to hunger.
Ahead loomed a gigantic cave, its entrance resembling the maw of some ancient, slumbering beast—strange, captivating, and undeniably ominous. Stalactites hung like rotting teeth. The stone itself appeared wet, glistening with moisture that shouldn't exist in such desolation. Raze quickened his pace, dismissing the troubling thoughts that clawed at his mind. Living cave. Ridiculous. Yet he couldn't shake the impression that the entrance dilated slightly as he approached, as if aware of his presence.
He stood at the threshold, heart hammering against his ribs, scanning the abyss within for any sign of movement. The air inside smelled of copper and old violence. After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled in relief. Perfectly still. Perfectly quiet. Only the whisper of his own breathing and the distant, arrhythmic pulse of something vast and unseen above the cloud cover.
Gathering his courage, Raze ventured deeper. Though convinced the cave was empty, he remained on high alert—not until he reached the dead end did he finally allow himself to collapse, exhaustion crashing over him like a tidal wave. His legs trembled, then failed entirely. The stone floor bit cold through his tattered clothing, but he welcomed the discomfort. It meant he still felt. Still lived.
When he finally gathered the fragments of his remaining strength, Raze attempted to organize his chaotic thoughts. He mentally catalogued every characteristic of the holographic regions he'd studied during his brief, brutal education. Sector Seven's luminous forests. The Glass Plains with their refracted sunlight. The Hanging Cities where gravity bent to architectural will. Unfortunately, none matched this starless void—this domain of darkness governed by creatures unknown.
Of course not, he thought bitterly. Even if some unlucky humans had stumbled here, I doubt any returned to the real world alive.
Not with those things lurking above the clouds and within the shadows. He'd seen one only once—a silhouette against the void, vast as a mountain range, moving with impossible grace. It hadn't noticed him. Or perhaps it had, and simply found him too insignificant to consume. The memory made his stomach clench.
Too exhausted to leave and explore for an exit—which he knew was pure fantasy—Raze decided to wait. Perhaps something would change. Perhaps time would reveal what darkness concealed. Or perhaps he would simply die here, another forgotten speck in an infinite nightmare. The thought should have terrified him. Instead, he felt only a hollow resignation, quickly followed by stubborn anger. Not yet. Not like this.
Using his hands as a pillow, he stared into the abyss, fighting the siren call of sleep, his vigilance peaked to detect even the slightest movement. His eyelids grew heavy, each blink lasting longer than the last. He counted them—one, two, three—forcing himself alert again and again. The fourth time, his eyes snapped open with sudden, terrible clarity.
Then it struck him—how could he see in such consuming darkness? Even flame would be devoured instantly here. He'd tested it. Watched a spark from his striker vanish before it could ignite, swallowed by the oppressive blackness as if offended by its existence.
Oh. Right. The Shadow skill.
The memory surfaced slowly, like bubbles through deep water. Awakening in that alley, back when the world still made sense. The notification he'd dismissed as hallucination until the abilities manifested. Gratitude washed over him, warm and unexpected. Without it, he would have died countless times already. Tripped over roots he couldn't see. Walked into predators he couldn't detect. Yet beyond that grateful realization, Raze felt hollow. Empty. The skill had saved his life but offered no companionship, no explanation, no map through this hell.
He was alone. Utterly, completely alone.
Then his ears caught something—a disturbance in the darkness. Not the constant ambient whisper of the void, but something specific. Directed. The soft scrape of claw against stone, the labored exhale of massive lungs, the wet drip of fluid hitting rock.
Instantly, silently, Raze rose and melted into the left corner of the cave, muscles coiled like springs. Rather than wait for whatever approached to arrive, he imprinted a fragment of his consciousness into his gifted storage ring. The sensation felt like dipping his thoughts into cold honey—resistance, then acceptance. A dark metallic sword materialized in his right hand—cold, detached, deadly. The weight felt right. Familiar. Lowering his breathing to near silence, Raze finally beheld his visitor.
A gigantic wolf collapsed where he had lain moments before, its fur darker than the void itself. Weak. Whimpering. Wounds of varying sizes covered its massive body, blood flowing like liquid lightning that cracked across its skin—low and fading. Even dying, it radiated power. The air around it hummed with residual electricity, making Raze's hair stand on end. This was no mere beast. The system would have a name for it, some grand title befitting its majesty.
Raze's eyes went ice-cold, instantly calculating survival odds if he attacked. Even wounded, this creature could kill him. One swipe of those paws, visible even in shadow, each talon longer than his forearm. One discharge of that dying lightning. Strike them down when they're most vulnerable. Roy Jing's words echoed from his past life, a lesson written in blood and burned into memory during those final, terrible hours. The old man had never specified that the lesson applied to monsters. Raze supposed that was implied.
Steadying his breath, stabilizing his shaking hands, Raze's gaze became glacial. He gripped the sword and charged at full speed. No senseless ninja assassination from the shadows—he'd learned the wolf had sensed him already but deemed him insignificant. Its ears had twitched toward his corner. Its nostrils had flared. Yet it had chosen to rest, to recover, to ignore the gnat in its temporary sanctuary.
Its greatest mistake.
The wolf tilted its massive head, mockery gleaming in eyes like captured storms. Its body convulsed, conducting lightning into a sphere before launching it at the charging human. The attack came faster than Raze anticipated—barely faster. He had perhaps half a second to react, to reconsider, to die.
Raze had anticipated this. He maintained his advance, watching the ball of lightning tear toward him with terrifying speed, his calm unbroken. At the last possible moment, he dove—not away, but forward and down, using the explosion's own light to blind the creature momentarily. The heat seared his back. The force threw him harder than expected. But his hands found purchase on the cave wall, and his sword found stone above.
The explosion shook the cave. Dust erupted, obscuring everything. The wolf scanned the darkness for its enemy, found nothing, and rested its head back down. It closed its eyes, believing its foe vaporized. Its breathing slowed, pain finally overwhelming caution.
Exactly as Raze intended.
From above, predatory eyes watched. Raze hung like a spider, all four limbs gripping the sword he'd embedded in the ceiling during the explosion's cover. Every movement calculated. Zero energy wasted. His shoulders screamed. His fingers cramped. Blood trickled from his palms where the rough hilt bit into skin. He ignored it all, counting the wolf's breaths, waiting for the rhythm to indicate true sleep.
Seizing the perfect moment after hanging for an unknown duration, Raze pulled the sword free with one powerful motion. He fell with mathematical precision, blade aimed at the wolf's head—specifically the deep wound revealing its brain. The creature's eyes opened, too late. Comprehension dawned, too slow.
The sword plunged deep with clean, precise, devastating force, killing the creature before comprehension could dawn.
A screen blinked into existence before Raze, who still hung suspended, pushing the blade deeper with everything he had. Notifications stacked, glowing pale blue against the darkness:
[DING: Royal Lightning Wolf slain.]
[DING: Level up.]
[DING: Level up ×3.]
[DING: Activating Shadow Consuming—]
Raze registered the notifications, realized the wolf had gone still, and collapsed beside its dissolving form as it transformed into a mass of darkness. The substance looked alive, writhing, reaching toward him with tendrils of liquid night. But before he could process what was happening—
Exhaustion claimed him.
Darkness consumed his consciousness, and with it, the final system message hung frozen in the void, its completion lost to the shadows that swallowed him whole...