The battlefield quieted as the last of the Arachnae warriors were dispatched, their screeches fading into the night. Soldiers moved among the carnage, securing the perimeter and tending to the wounded. The air was thick with the acrid tang of ichor and the metallic scent of blood. Yet, amidst the chaos, cheers erupted around Jack, a spontaneous celebration of their victory.

“Did you see that?” one soldier exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe. “He took down the Overlord and the Champion!”

Another clapped Jack on the back, grinning despite the exhaustion etched across his face. “Damn, man, you’re a one-man army. Where’d they dig you up?”

Jack waved a hand, deflecting the praise. “Hey, let’s not make a big deal of it. Just another Tuesday, right?” His smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes as he scanned the battlefield, already planning his next move.

***

Jack crouched over the massive, shattered corpse of the Arachnae Overlord, its ichor still steaming as it pooled beneath the jagged remnants of its exoskeleton. The silver-blue flames from his machete had seared deep into the creature’s body, leaving the edges of its wounds glowing faintly with residual energy. His gaze swept across the grotesque remains, methodically searching for anything of value.

"Let’s see what goodies you’ve got for me," Jack muttered, brushing a strand of ichor-slicked hair from his forehead. He planted his boot against the Overlord’s cracked carapace, prying loose a particularly large fragment with a grunt of effort. The chunk of adamantine exoskeleton was heavier than he expected, its surface etched with faint runic patterns that still pulsed faintly with the creature’s lifeblood, like tattoos had been carved into it.

System Notification: Adamantine Carapace Fragment Obtained - Legendary Crafting Material

“Not bad,” Jack said with a wry grin, tossing the fragment into the dimensional pocket of his Fractured Cloak. He rifled through the rest of the Overlord’s remains, his fingers brushing against a strange, crystalline structure embedded in its thorax. The object was smooth and cool to the touch, glowing faintly as if it contained a sliver of the Overlord’s malevolent essence.

System Notification: Arachnae Heartstone Obtained - Artifact Class

Jack raised an eyebrow as he turned the Heartstone over in his hands. “You’ve got to be worth something,” he muttered, slipping it into his cloak’s pocket with a practiced motion. As he moved to the Champion’s fallen body, his machete still hummed faintly, its runes flickering like an eager hound anticipating more work.

The Champion’s corpse was no less imposing in death. Its adamantine exoskeleton gleamed under the flickering light of the battlefield fires, the crimson tattoo like runes etched across its surface now dark and lifeless. Jack knelt beside it, his movements brisk as he began extracting anything that caught his eye.

A deep cavity in the top of Champion’s torso where its head had been attached revealed another Heartstone, smaller than the Overlord’s but glowing with the same ominous light. Smaller, but markedly more potent. Jack didn’t hesitate, plunging his hand into the wound and wrenching the artifact free. Ichor splattered his arms, but he barely noticed.

System Notification: Champion’s Core Obtained - Epic Artifact

“Keep ‘em coming,” Jack said under his breath, reaching for the Champion’s claws next.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” a sharp voice barked, cutting through the din of the soldiers clearing out the battlefield. Jack turned, his eyes narrowing as a man in a recently drycleaned, albeit dust-streaked, uniform strode toward him. The insignia on his shoulder marked him as a high-ranking officer, though the scowl on his face did more to announce his authority than any badge of rank.

“Looting,” Jack said flatly, his tone making it clear he didn’t care about rank or protocol. He turned back to the Champion’s corpse, prying loose another claw with a deliberate lack of urgency.

The officer stopped a few feet away, his face reddening as he clenched his fists. “That’s government property,” he snapped. “You don’t have clearance to touch it, let alone steal from it. Drop it.” The officer’s hand slipped to his holstered firearm, and the threat was not lost on Jack.

Jack straightened, turning to face the man fully. His machete dangled loosely in his grip, the faint glow of its runes casting an eerie light across his face. He smirked, the expression devoid of warmth.

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“Make me,” he said simply, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The officer’s nostrils flared. “You think you can just walk away with classified materials? You’ve got another thing coming, buddy. I don’t care if you killed that thing-”

Jack stepped closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. His presence seemed to grow, the air around him thickening with an almost tangible force. “Let me stop you right there, Officer,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I just saved your ass and every one of your soldiers out here. And now you’re going to lecture me on protocol?”

The officer opened his mouth to retort, but Jack didn’t give him the chance. “Here’s how this is going to go,” he continued, his voice colder now. “I’m taking what I need. You can puff up and throw a tantrum if you want, but unless you’ve got another Overlord stashed away to deal with me, you’re out of luck.”

The silence that followed was palpable, the tension crackling like static electricity.

Then without another word the officer turned away and left Jack to finish his looting.

***

He worked quickly, severing the massive, bladed appendages with precise application of his adamantine garrote. Each claw was heavy and wickedly sharp, their edges faintly glinting with the toxic residue of the creature’s venom.

System Notification: Arachnae Venom-Claw x2 Obtained - Rare Weapon Components

Jack turned the Champion’s Core over in his hands, its faint glow pulsating in time with his heartbeat. The artifact was warm to the touch, almost alive, its surface etched with intricate, shifting runes that seemed to defy logic. His mind raced as he considered the possibilities. This wasn’t just loot - it was potential.

“Cores like this...” Jack murmured, his eyes narrowing as he studied the glowing Heartstone from the Overlord he had tucked into his other hand. Both artifacts exuded raw, untamed energy, and he felt a twinge of excitement creep into his chest.

The thought hit him like a flash of lightning. These weren’t just remnants of defeated monsters. They were anchors of their essence - Prismata cores in their purest form. Could he bind them into cards? The idea was tantalizing, a spark of his old world pushing its way into this one.

He held the Champion’s Core closer, the faint heat radiating into his palm. If these cores carried even a fraction of the monsters’ power, he could create cards that would tip the balance of any fight. An Arachnae Overlord, or even a Champion of Tiamat, under his command? The thought made him grin despite himself. Those were the kinds of cards he’d want on his side in a real fight - unrelenting, terrifying, and devastatingly effective.

But binding something like this wouldn’t be easy. Prismata cards required precision, balance, and an understanding of the creature’s essence. Could he replicate the process in this world? He didn’t even know if his old abilities would fully cooperate. His connection to Prismata felt tenuous at best, like a frayed thread that could snap at any moment.

Jack sighed, slipping the cores into the dimensional pocket of his Fractured Cloak with deliberate care. “No point rushing it now,” he muttered. “First, I need to figure out how this world handles essence like this... if it even does.”

Still, the idea wouldn’t leave him. Once the dust settled, when he finally had some downtime - no soldiers shouting, no dungeon looming, no ichor dripping off his boots - he’d sit down and see if he could coax these cores into becoming the cards he needed.

Jack allowed himself a brief moment to savor the thought of summoning an Overlord or Champion mid-fight. The soldiers’ faces would be priceless. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s hope I can pull it off before the next catastrophe.”

For now, though, there was work to do. There’d be time to experiment later - if he survived long enough to have a “later.”

***

He straightened, wiping his hands on his pants, though the smears of ichor only added to the grimy tapestry of the battle’s aftermath. Around him, the battlefield pulsed with frenetic energy. Soldiers moved in chaotic yet purposeful strides, their pale faces etched with exhaustion and determination as they tended to the wounded and secured the perimeter. The distant crackle of radios punctuated the heavy silence left by the fallen creatures.

Jack’s gaze swept across the scene, and he caught sight of a few soldiers glancing his way. Their expressions were wary but intrigued, their eyes flitting between him and the carcasses of the Arachnae. Some, emboldened by his actions, had begun to pick over the lesser Arachnae corpses, their movements tentative but determined. He leaned against a nearby ruined Humvee, folding his arms as he watched one particularly resourceful soldier tug free a golf ball-sized core from the remains of a warrior.

The man held it up to the fading light, his brow furrowed in confusion and awe as the small orb shimmered faintly, like a fragment of captured starlight. Jack couldn’t help but smile at the soldier’s tentative excitement, the way his discovery momentarily lifted the weight of the battle from his shoulders. “Good on you,” Jack murmured under his breath.

He shifted his stance, letting his attention drift back to his own spoils. The faint glow of his newly acquired loot pulsed reassuringly from the dimensional pockets of his Fractured Cloak, a comforting presence against the backdrop of carnage. These weren’t just trophies - they were opportunities, tools for survival in a world that seemed intent on throwing him into the fire time and time again.

Still, he decided to leave the rest of the loot to the soldiers. They deserved it, and more importantly, they would need it. Each core, each fragment of essence they scavenged, might be the edge they needed for the next fight. And there would be a next fight. There always was.

He let out a quiet sigh, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering tension. The battlefield around him was far from quiet, but for Jack, this moment of stillness was a victory. A small, shining triumph amid the wreckage of survival.