The Oni Shaman drifted into uneasy slumber, only to find herself ensnared in a nightmarish web. Tangled in a mass of sticky threads, her limbs were tightly bound, the clinging strands denying any hope of movement. No matter how fiercely she struggled, her efforts were futile—the more she fought, the tighter the web constricted.

From somewhere deep within the binding strands, a voice—a soft, spidery whisper—called out. “Come, come, come...” it beckoned, the sound a dark, insidious chirp that tugged at the corners of her mind. She strained against her bindings, but they held firm, binding her ever tighter.

“Come to the Spider King... come to him...” the whisper repeated, its tone now sweet and luring. She wanted to respond, to scream or curse, but even her mouth was sealed shut with the sticky threads, her voice stolen by the same web that imprisoned her.

“Come... come... come...” The chirp persisted, weaving through her mind. “Surrender to his will…” It urged. “He will set you free...”

Free? The word echoed in her thoughts, but the threads tightened their grip around her body, as if amused by the very notion. Every inch of her was shackled, every breath laboured, trapped in a web spun from the very essence of her fear.

…

The Oni Shaman jolted awake, a gasp tearing from her throat. The night still blanketed the world outside, but sleep no longer seemed possible. The spidery whisper echoed in her mind, relentless and insidious: “Come... come... come…”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “If I come... will he set me free? Will my nightmares end?”

She knew the answer, but the question gnawed at her, a desperate flicker of hope in the darkness. It was him who had bound her. Why would he release her from the very web he spun? And yet, despite the bitter knowledge, she felt an irresistible pull, an unseen thread guiding her steps.

Without realizing it, she found herself wandering through the cold, empty corridors of Centauri Castle. The silence was unnatural, the ever-watchful spiders conspicuously absent. Her mind felt clouded, thick with fog, as if something unseen was smothering her thoughts. She closed her eyes, willing the haze to clear, and when she opened them again, rather suddenly, now she found herself standing before familiar, heavy wooden doors. The Spider King’s office.

It was the dead of night—he wouldn’t be here. And yet, her hand moved, trembling, to knock on the door. Before her knuckles could make contact, the door creaked open on its own, the sound slow and deliberate, as if welcoming her into the darkness ahead.

From the gap in the doorway, the whisper came again, slithering into her mind, sending a chill through her back.

“Come…”

Her breath caught in her throat. The voice—it was the same as in her dream.

Despite every instinct urging her to flee, her body disobeyed. Her hand pressed against the door, pushing it open, allowing the shadows within to swallow her whole. The room was dim, the only light a faint glow from a small lantern in the corner, its DarkFlame flickering eerily. The flame didn’t brighten the space; instead, it granted her the DarkVision, a strange ability to see shapes shrouded in the dark.

She spied a figure seated behind the desk. The figure was dark as the night itself, shrouded in the midnight’s shadows, his form obscured, but four glowing yellow eyes pierced through the void, locking onto hers.

“Sit,” a clawed hand emerged from the shadowy veil, gesturing to a chair nearby.

Her heart raced in her chest, every fibre of her being screaming against compliance. Yet, as if some unseen force had already claimed her, she sat.

The shadows around the figure began to melt away, dissipating into the air like smoke, revealing its true, unsettling form.

“!!!” She gasped, her breath sharp. The creature before her was not the one she had expected. “You’re... not the Spider King.” The words fell from her lips, half question, half realization. Yet here it was, sitting at his desk, occupying his space.

“I am not,” it chirped, its mandibles stretching into a semblance of a smile. “I’m known as the Spider Archmage,” it spoke, its voice chirpy as if praising itself. The creature leaned in closer, its spindly claws creeping toward her, reaching for her hands like a predator about to seize its prey.

Panic crashed over her like icy water, snapping her out of whatever trance had held her. She moved to bolt from her chair, but the spider’s claws had already closed in, pinning her in place by her shoulders. She was trapped, the cold, sharp tips of its fingers grazing her skin.

“Ki-ki-ki,” the spider laughed, pleased about something. “Do not be afraid,” it clacked its mandibles together as it spoke.

She was afraid… She was Terrified, in fact!

This spider was nothing like the smaller, more mundane creatures she was used to—those spider farmers that wandered the clover fields, or even the overseers who guarded the Oni and aided the Centauri. No, this one was something else entirely. Evolved. Wrong. Its yellow eyes gleamed with a malevolent intelligence, but worse—much worse—was the hunger. A primordial hunger that seeped from its very presence, like a palpable aura that wrapped around her, coiling tighter with every second.

Its body was an abomination, far more disturbing than any creature she had encountered. Long, spindly arms ending in claws, not fingers. Its chitinous chest was encased in thick plates, the edges serrated and jagged like the teeth of some monstrous trap. Six legs, each one sharp and dagger-like at the tip, clicked against the floor with a metallic scrape as it shifted. And its face... the features were unmistakably sapient, yet warped into a twisted, inhuman semblance. It was a nightmare made flesh, an embodiment of terror that rivalled even the Demon Lord.

She could feel fear gripping her mind. Ugly wasn’t the word for this thing—it was pure, distilled horror. And despite the overwhelming dread flooding her, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from its eyes—those hungry, yellow orbs that bore into her… hungering for her very soul.

The spider’s voice broke the suffocating silence. “You see,” it began, its mandibles clicking in rhythm with its words, “we are pleased with your performance” It gave her a terrifying smile.

‘We? Who is we?’ – she couldn’t help but wonder.

“You’ve taught the Spider King many useful things,” the Spider Archmage continued, a chirpy warmth to its tone. One of its claws moved from her shoulder to pat her head with a semblance of affection.

She recoiled inwardly, her body tensing, but still, she remained frozen in place. Her already red skin flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, embarrassment mixing with dread as the creature’s touch lingered too long. Uninvited, the image of a green feather fluttered into her mind, flooding her thoughts with shame.

“… the Soul Magic,” the spider chirped, grinning widely. “It was the missing piece. The thread that stabilised the web we have been weaving.”

The spider finally released her, but before she could think to flee, it reached for one of the desk’s drawers. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, her legs ready to bolt—but her body remained paralyzed, as though she was trapped in a web.

From the drawer, the Spider Archmage withdrew a dark crystal, setting it on the table with a deliberate motion. Inside its obsidian surface, a swirling mass of light flickered—a web of glowing, purple threads. And at the centre, barely visible, trembled a small red dot, pulsating faintly, like a trapped fly.

She held her breath in realisation. She knew what it was. As a shaman, she was intimately familiar with souls and their use in magic. But this... this was something different. A soul, trapped and immobilized, suspended in a cruel, ethereal prison.

The spider’s mandibles curled into another grin. “Yes,” it chirped, its voice dripping with satisfaction. “An OniSoul. Now we can trap them... move them... use them freely..” Its claws tapped the crystal, the sound faint but sharp. “All of them. However we please.”

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“…” A cold dread washed over her. She couldn’t find words; she only trembled.

In her magic, she could manipulate souls—use them to cast spells, to guide spirits—but never could she trap them, never could she store them. This was something beyond her—a power that belonged in the hands of the Demon Lord himself. And if the spiders could use the Oni souls freely… What does this mean for the Oni Convicts?

The spider clacked its mandibles again, as if reading her thoughts. “Do not worry, Oni Shaman,” it chirped, its tone sweet. “Ki-ki-ki... living are far more useful than the dead. You might not be free, but your freedom is... not far off.” Its eyes gleamed, yellow orbs filled with a meaning she could not fully grasp.

She swallowed, her throat dry, and before she knew why, the words slipped from her lips. “You want me to surrender to his will?”

The spider’s eyes widened, surprised, before a delight spread across its spidery features. “Ah, so you understand! Perfect,” it chirped, its voice rising in joy. A claw reached for another drawer, this time retrieving a small crystalline flask.

It placed the vial in her trembling hands. The liquid inside was viscous, a strange shade of blue, swirling thickly in the dim light. The scent that drifted up as she uncorked it was sweet—too sweet—pulling at her senses, clouding her already-foggy mind.

“Drink,” the spider urged, its voice a quiet command. “And you shall be free,” it chirped a dark promise.

She lifted the crystalline vial with trembling fingers, trying to appraise the strange potion within. But whatever knowledge she possessed as a shaman failed her now. All she could discern was a vague impression—something about an eldritch slug. Its texture was jelly-like, and the origin seemed dubious at best. Yet, the sweet aroma teased her senses, a temptation too alluring to dismiss. A dangerous sweetness, like honeyed bait, coaxed her mind toward the edge. She told herself it would be just a taste—a single drop to test whether it was harmful.

The spider’s eyes glowed brighter, its grin widening as the vial touched her lips, mandibles clicking in what could only be described as conspiratorial delight.

Her intent had been cautious—only a drop—but the moment the liquid touched her tongue, an overwhelming need took hold. The sweetness overwhelmed her, and before she realized it, she was gulping down the entire vial, her throat burning with urgency, her mind succumbing to the thick, syrupy euphoria flooding her senses.

“Ki-ki-ki, delicious, isn’t it?” the spider rasped, leaning closer as it watched her with a knowing glee.

Her body ignited from the inside out, heat roaring through her veins as her eyes shot wide, then rolled back into her skull. Her whole frame trembled violently, fingers digging into the wood of the chair’s armrests until they nearly splintered. Good was an understatement—euphoria crashed into her like a tsunami, obliterating thought, almost dissolving her mind into a formless, blissful haze. She felt her consciousness slipping, melting away, her body wracked with tremors of near ecstasy.

A sudden notification blinked in her mind:

[You have consumed SlugJelly. Temporary perk: OgreDevourer obtained.]

OgreDevourer? The name echoed strangely in her head, yet something primal awakened within her, gnawing at her insides with an insatiable craving. But it wasn’t food she desired... not in the conventional sense. Her gaze shifted toward the dark crystal on the table, the SoulStone that now glowed with an almost unnatural allure. Hunger, a monstrous hunger, twisted in her gut.

“Ki-ki-ki!” The spider pushed it closer towards her, its claws tapping the crystal’s surface. “Go ahead,” it chirped with encouragement.

Her hands, still trembling from the potent magic coursing through her, moved on their own. She reached for the SoulStone, her fingertips brushing against its cold surface. The crystal flared to life beneath her touch, the purple web inside it throbbing as the soul, the small red dot caught in the ethereal strands, began to shift. With a sudden release, the soul tore free from its prison and flew toward her, sinking into her palm only to melt in it like a snowflake. It was absorbed in her palm, mixing with her blood.

“!!!” She slumped back in the chair, her body beginning to spasm again as the soul integrated with her. Her eyes rolled back once again, and this time, something entirely new—something dark and consuming—rippled through her mind. It wasn’t euphoria, not like before, but something even more foreign. It was... power. A raw, undeniable power, coursing through her body like wildfire. Her skin buzzed with it, her muscles tightened, and her senses flared to life, sharper than ever.

“How... curious,” the spider chirped, its voice thick with intrigue. Its yellow eyes blinked in astonishment. “It seems you can... Evolve.”

‘Evolve?’ she thought, struggling to keep her mind together. It wasn’t just her mind… she felt mysterious magic messing up her body, churning her insides—a guttural and visceral feeling, but not an unpleasant one. She felt overwhelming might. She felt countless possibilities. It was strangely... intoxicating.

Chaotic power surged through her, possibilities unfurling in her mind like threads of fate just within reach. She could almost grasp them, almost see them—new forms, new strengths.

But it was too much.

Her vision darkened, her consciousness slipping away, spiraling into the vortex of chaos. She collapsed forward, her head striking the table with a dull thud. The last sensation she registered was a peculiar weightlessness, as though her body was suspended by treads. Was she falling asleep? Or had she been dreaming this entire time?

The line between reality and nightmare blurred as she drifted into unconsciousness, her mind lost in the shadows once again.

…

The Oni Shaman woke abruptly, finding herself tangled in her bed, her red skin damp with sweat. The sheets clung to her, uncomfortably wet, sticking to her body in a way that felt wrong. She groaned, a low sound of discomfort and something else—her muscles ached, not just from the strain of the nightmare but from an unsettling, lingering sensation. Her breath caught as the remnants of it still clung to her mind—a web of threads she could not escape.

“Ohhh,” she muttered, forcing herself to sit up despite the odd heaviness in her limbs. “What a nightmare…” Her fingers pressed against her temples, trying to soothe the dull throb in her head. “I must have imagined the entire thing…”

Of course she did. The spiders would never allow her to wander through the castle in the dead of night, not with the vigilant eyes that were always watching, always lurking. The dream—no, the nightmare—had to be her mind playing tricks on her. It had been vivid, yes, but nothing more than that.

And yet… The memory of that spider’s looming form crawled back into her mind, sending an involuntary shiver through her. She hugged herself, hands gripping her trembling shoulders. “That spider… it was terrifying,” she whispered to no one, the fear still gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.

But it hadn’t all been fear, had it? Beneath the terror had been something else, something too primal to ignore. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the wave of raw power, the rush that had surged through her at the nightmare’s end. The visceral, near-ecstatic sensation still lingered on her skin, as if her body remembered it even now. She trembled at the memory.

“Ugh, just another dream, that’s it,” she sighed, rubbing her face in an attempt to shake off the feeling. It wasn’t the first, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Lately, her dreams were always filled with webs, spiders, and those unsettling feelings of both terror and desire. She had learned to dismiss them, telling herself they were just dreams, nothing more.

Still, that last sensation—that pulse of strength that had wrapped around her like the sticky threads in the dream—it had felt disturbingly real. Her fingers twitched, as though her body was still recalling the grip of something powerful, something… irresistible. Just in case, she opened her Status screen, a flicker of worry in her expresion.

“Yeah… just a bad dream,” she exhaled with relief. Her screen was clear—no strange perks, no odd powers, certainly nothing like OgreDevourer. She laughed softly at herself for even entertaining the thought. “It’s fine,” she whispered.

But then her breath hitched, freezing in her throat.

A message lingered in the corner of her vision, a small, unsettling notification that hadn’t been there before, tempting her with an eerie persistence:

[Do you want to join the Monster System?]

“???” Her heart pounded, but it wasn’t from fear. No… it was something else. A disturbing curiosity stirred within her, and despite herself, she leaned closer to the strange message.

“Monster System?” The words seemed absurd, like some spidery prank. And yet, something about them tugged at her, the same way the dream had pulled her deeper into its web. She hesitated for only a moment, her curiosity overpowering whatever caution she should have felt. “…but is there any harm?” she wondered aloud. Two seconds passed, then she made her choice.

She selected YES.

And with that single choice, it all came crashing back—the dream, the nightmare, the power that had flooded her veins. It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. It was real. She gasped as a now familiar sensation hit her like a tidal wave, knocking her off her feet. Her mind whirled, overwhelmed by the flood of strength surging through her body, filling her with a power she didn’t understand but craved nonetheless. The room around her dimmed, distant, as her body trembled with the force of it all.

Another message blinked in her mind, but she could hardly focus, her thoughts spinning out of control. She grasped for clarity, trying to pull herself back from the edge, to understand.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she stood up on shaky legs, blinking rapidly as she tried to gather her thoughts. The realisation dawned on her, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“I can… I can Evolve,” she whispered, blinking in disbelief. “The nightmare… the spider… the soul I had devoured…” It wasn’t a dream. It was all too real.

The power that had surged through her—it had been real. It was happening. Whatever chaotic forces she had unknowingly bound herself to were now pulling her deeper into their web, and she couldn’t turn back.

The dream wasn’t over… It had only just begun.

And…

And If she could Evolve, what would she become?