His sword clattered as he fell on his shoulder, and with a groan he slowly moved to lay on his back. Worried, she went for him, before also sluggishly falling, dropping down to her knees beside the boy.

His eyes stared at her own, before pointing to her arms with his nose, "hurts?"

"Hurts," she confirmed, then shrugged, "numbed it," with her remaining arcana. Staying awake with it too.

He understood with furrowed brows, "dangerous."

"Dangerous," she agreed, it would break my body further.

And I wouldn't know if I was dead.

Then there was a comfortable silence, a stillness that cherished the peace of the moment. For now, there was no danger. Only them.

Slowly, a drip of blood fell down the tip of her nose.

Her shallow breath exhaled a cold mist.

Vision blurring, her eyelids became like lead, slowly fallin-

"Hurts," he grunted after a while.

She blinked, and studied his wounded body. There were lacerations all over, and a bite mark or two. She also noticed that there were no fatal wounds to his hands or vitals, and understanding came as she realized that he protected them as much as he could during his stand.

Admirable.

Frowning, she knew she had no capability to help, "no arcana." Not enough to heal.

He nodded in understanding, and his eyes became half-lidded as he started taking slow breaths in relative peace.

They were stranded, and close to death. This wasn't part of the plan. None of it was. The unexpected variable was-

"You," she muttered, "shouldn't have come."

He opened his eyes, the obsidian blues staring at her, his lips turning to an apologetic smile.

"Maybe," he somewhat agreed, then shrugged as much as he could without moving something broken. "Had wanted the scroll," he said, as if the world could not stop him.

"Wanted it too," she replied, which was met with an awkward silence.

She could have blamed him then. Poured out anger. Scream profanities. Hurt him, maybe.

He was vulnerable, after all.

Then she found she had no energy for it. Only exhaustion.

She looked around. "Bad plan," she admitted, she was used to the mechanics of the game. Reality was, the swarm was larger, and the usage of skills more difficult. "Could have ran," she croaked, "maybe escape, survive."

"Maybe," he somewhat agreed again.

She nodded slowly, and stared at him, his eyes still on her.

“I’m dying,” she said numbly, it felt like a faraway thing, but she knew death would come.

“I am too,” he replied in cracked voice, but smiled, as if to a joke only he heard.

“How,” she whispered in faint disbelief, “could you smile.”

His smile was genuine. Content. The eyes held surety, even when touching shoulders with death.

“Aren't you…” she continued to say, “afraid?”

To that, he minutely shook his head, “always afraid.” He took a shallow breath, “but no matter.”

“No matter?”

“No matter,” he confirmed. “In life, in death,” he pointed a shaking finger to his chest, “I am me. True. So,” another shallow breath, “no matter.”

She furrowed her brows in blatant confusion. Instead of arguing, she laid her forehead on his, and closed her eyes.

“Let’s talk,” she whispered, her voice as weak as her body.

"Talk?"

"Of everything," she replied, "anything."

Then there was silence. One. Two. Too long. She opened her eyes expecting-

Staring at her were pale obsidian pupils, blended with faint shades of blue like a droplet of ink.

Relief fluttered in her heart. She thought him dead. Left her alone. No, his breaths were just too slow and shallow, almost silent.

He blinked slowly, and grimaced.

"Everything? No time now, I think," he said, as he stared at the ceiling, lips pale, "a shame."

She studied him once more. He could close his eyes, she thought, and finally rest.

Yet he breathes still, fighting to live seconds more. Why can't I be the same?

Her mind roiled as she considered every possibility that could be done to save them both, and her heart tightened when she found her answer. A possibility of great risk and little reward.

It will break me, she thought with trepidation, but no matter.

"Not a shame," she said as she sluggishly stood on shaking legs, "a promise."

"...Amelia?" He croaked, with a tint of fear.

He thinks I am leaving him. He is afraid of dying alone.

So am I.

She dragged her feet, and dropped to her knees again, this time next to a corpse of a monster. She imbued her teeth with her paltry arcana,

and began to feast.

Strengthened teeth munched through hard flesh and sturdy bone, red juices seeping as she took large methodical bites. The hard meat was chewy, the blood seeping from them acidic, and she was sure the bones left wounds inside her numb mouth. Ignoring her revulsion, she kept chewing, and forcefully swallowed them all.

As the mass traveled down her throat, she used arcana to carefully break them apart into finer pieces, and guided them not to her stomach,

but to her Core.

[Warning: detecting self-inflicted severe contamination to Core. Requesting cessation.]

Stolen story; please report.

[Current activity is heavily ill-advised.]

Information from the system appeared in her mind, but she ignored them, and went down to feast again. Part of her felt unsettled by how vocal the system was, but that feeling was overpowered by her ravenous hunger. After the first digestion of flesh to her core, she suddenly felt very, very famished, the meat no longer revolting.

Ever so slowly, she felt her arcana start to replenish, her body beginning to heal its wounds. This prompted her to eat faster, taking larger bites, no longer caring for the mess. She went straight to chewing organs and slurping bones, the blood splattering on her already bloodied clothes.

She was starting to heal now, and changing. A change she felt she could never take back.

"No…" she heard the boy say, but it was like a whisper, something so very far away.

[Final Warning: Core is valuable. Caution is imperative.]

This time the words of the system did not even register in her mind. There was only her and flesh, a meal not to be wasted. Yet part of her knew that the system sent a warning, for she felt something foreboding, a slow drumming heartbeat that increased in volume and pace for each bite she took.

She did not care. There was only hunger. Her bloody left arm was now starting to heal significantly, mending the bone and flesh, enabling her to manipulate the limb and its digits. With it, she clutched an exposed heart, the juices dripping as she tightened her grip. Licking her lips, she bared her fangs-

A frail hand held her wrist, the surprise of the sudden touch stopping her. A bit of clarity regained in her head as she stared down at the boy, reminding her of why she did this in the first place.

"Stop," croaked the boy, one who dragged his broken body just to reach her, "this is wrong."

Taking a deep breath to somewhat regain her mental faculties, she ignored her hunger with miraculous willpower, opting to speak to the boy.

Slowly, the foreboding drums of heartbeat faded into the background.

"I've arcana," she informed, before swatting his hand away, and deftly using arcana with her left hand to manipulate the strings representing his flesh and blood.

Her regained arcana felt euphoric. No longer had she needed to perform the Arcanic Steps, and simply went straight to engineer his strings, her hand glowing yellow as she closed grievous wounds, and gave life to thin blood and weak organs.

The boy had closed his eyes throughout the process, his breathing slowly becoming regular as color returned to his skin. After a while she huffed and stopped her healing.

"You will not die anymore," she informed, surprising herself with how easy it is to speak now, "but I can't heal the more complicated injuries. Need a calmer mind or I risk damage instead."

She knew she could not focus, for the manic hunger still clawed at the periphery of her mind.

The boy opened his eyes and nodded gratefully. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "but arcanic vampirism was a risky move. You should stop while you're still not addicted."

I already am, she thought, remembering the taste of delectable flesh.

"I can't," she said as she reached for the heart once again, "I need more strength."

Like before, the boy grasped her wrist, this time with a tighter grip with a faint renewed strength, his eyes holding a glint of anger.

"Don't," he said in surprising finality, "even in the game, vampirism was a hard thing to balance. This time, the cravings isn't something you could just log out on." He gritted his teeth, "don't risk it, you could lose yourself, be a monster."

If I have to be, "how else are we supposed to get out, then?" She pointed with her chin at the blocked exit, where the monsters still tried their best to dig through rock, "I need power, to go through them and save you."

"There are better ways."

"There is not," she said in clipped tone.

"This is why I hate arcana users," he grunted as he tried to sit up, letting go of her wrist, "always too sure of themselves-"

It was a simple matter of pushing him down on his shoulder. He was still weak, after all. "This is why I hate pure melee users," she retorted, "too stubborn."

"Stubborn? You'll become worse, maybe forget who you are," he all but growled, "you know I'm right."

"That's why it's a promise," she emphasized.

"Promise?" he bit his lips in thought, "talk?"

"Of everything and anything," she confirmed, "if ever I forget who I am, then remind me. We talk."

A pause, then realizing he could not do much in his current position, he reluctantly nodded. "You're an idiot," the idiot had the gall to say, "but I could do that. If we get out of here, we could talk all we like."

She nodded in relief, glad he did not fight back. Slowly, she put her right hand into his forehead, "there is a bit more to heal," she reassured as she saw his confused face. Then, she brought her lips near to his ear, just out of his view as she imbued soft but powerful arcana to her lips,

"sleep."

His eyes became frantic then, trying to fight back. He tried bringing up his arms, but they were too lethargic and heavy. Her hand on his forehead was like steel, steadying him in place.

So I was right, she thought, he'd be too weak to fight against it.

After a time, he stopped trying to fight back, his breathing becoming more slow, more peaceful. His eyes were still fiery, staring at her, a hint of betrayal and shock.

"I could not risk it," she tried to defend herself, "my strength lacks still, I have to eat more. Maybe you'd try to stop me. I couldn't let that happen."

"Fuck," he mumbled through numb lips. He scrunched his mouth as if to shout or scream, then settled down as if in reluctance.

"Find my mother... in Winter's Pass," he said, each syllable becoming slower, "she'll... heal you," then his eyes lidded close, his body becoming limp as he embraced an unwilling deep slumber.

Her eyes furrowed. Heal me? She questioned, there should be none in the north that could heal vampirism. She balled her her hand in frustrating curiousity.

Enough, let that be for another time.

She was surrounded by a collection of meat and bone, and knelt in a pool of juicy red blood, all of it a mass of flesh that is shame to be wasted.

For now, there is only the meal.

In frenzied hunger, she partook in the feast with licking lips, and as she ate more and more, the flesh going straight to her core, she felt changes to her body. Fangs became her teeth, claws her nails, and her sclera became tinted red like the blood she drank. She did not give the changes any mind, for it all felt very natural.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she became less human and more like beast.

All the while, the foreboding drumming heartbeat came back, rising in intensity the longer she feasted. It started to ring in her ears, deafening her, until pain gradually began to accumulate in her head. Yet she endured it, and in her hunger she continued to bite and drink, to chew and gulp.

Then there was silence.

[Initiating Self-Preservation Protocol]

The world darkened, and her mind broke.

***

A beast knelt, its red eyes glassy as if in shock, before slowly blinking, confused. Then it licked its lips, its long tongue slurping the remnants of dripping blood still on its mouth, and remembered what it was doing.

Feasting.

It growled, a grumble of hunger that echoed in the enclosed cavern. Looking around, it smiled in rows of sharp teeth as it saw piles of flesh yet to be eaten.

In dismay, it felt resistance when trying to move its broken right arm. With a shout of defiance, it channeled raw primal arcana through the limb, breaking the frost encasing it and popping the bones back into place.

With both limbs free, it began to eat with reverie.

There was the sound of crunching bone and chewing flesh, as the beast delighted in a feast with no end. It ate even the tiniest strip of meat, and licked the splatters of blood on floor and wall. Yet when it had eaten through all the eviscerated gore that had filled the cave, it found itself hungry still.

Looking to the center, there was one more body. A boy whose peaceful face was a contrast to the red shredded body it bore. For some reason, the beast had not given it mind until there was nothing else to give mind.

In anticipation, it stretched its claws, the long sharp nails clutching the boy's tender shoulder.

And gently, she carried him over the shoulder, like a potato sack. A little revenge, a small part of her said in humor.

The breast growled in confusion, as to why it saved the boy than eat him. It bared its fangs, it is a meal, it grunted, and I must eat,

No, a voice whispered, the word was said so weakly yet the beast could not fight against it.

It howled in amounting frustration. My hunger grows! It screamed at her, and when grown enough, I will dine whatever I wish!

Maybe, she agreed in reluctance. Then a pause, as if in consideration. There, she pointed out.

The beast turned towards the barred entrance, where in the tiny gaps between the pillars of rock there were the sounds of faint rustling, as if by moving bodies.

Meal? It inquired.

Meal, she confirmed.

It neared the entrance, where the beast could now clearly hear claws digging through rock, and beyond came echoes of hustling feet and snarling teeth.

Meal, it rejoiced.

With its one free arm, it dug through mountain rock with ease, its body reinforced and strengthened numerous times by all the flesh it had eaten. the stone cracked under its steel-like nails, and the beast dug through the pillars like brittle rock. At last, it pushed through the stone, making a hole where on the other side a monster stood stupefied, as if it didn't expect the meal would go to them.

The mountain dwellers realized the entrance was now breached, and they rejoiced by howling together, a chorus of hungry snarls and excited growls.

To that, the beast bared its fangs in a wide smile, and howled back in joy, for it seemed the feast was many and plenty.

To his mother, she said, though to the beast the voice seemed so far away now, its hunger more urgent and wanting, to her is salvation.

I need no saving, the beast replied.

I do, she pleaded.

And she closed her eyes to the carnage that ensued, and hoped that she would not be tempted to the delicious drink that came to her parched throat, the meat and bones that made her core full and satisfied. She hoped on her desperate trust to the boy's mother, lest she lose the only humanity she had left.

Save me.