Moonlight sifted through the leaves, casting dappled light over Giuliano. Blood trickled down his back and head, matting his sparse, bloodied hair against his neck and back. His uniform was tattered and clinging to his body like a second skin.
He rested against the trunk of a tree, perhaps ten meters tall, its branches large and thick enough to support his slumped form. His breathing was ragged and uneven, labored by pain and exhaustion.
Accompanying the frigid winds that made his teeth clatter was the sharp hissing of his pursuers. Their eyes, the only visible parts of them in the dark forest, glowed as they circled him like sharks circling injured prey. There was something particularly grating about the noise they made—it sent his heart racing and ignited a flare of temper within him.
You survived, now what? Giuliano asked himself. You know it's just an overcomplicated suicide to try and fight them like this.
"We catch our breath, and hope those things are not made of shadows," he said aloud, trying to infuse a bit of resolve into his voice.
If you really want to prolong this pathetic excuse for survival, I’ll help. Those things, they're fast, unpredictable. And you? Well, let’s just say your track record for agility isn’t exactly stellar.
Giuliano’s gaze shifted to the thick tree branch he was perched on. If you’re smart— and let’s be honest, that’s a big if—you’d use this tree to limit their angles of attack. Keep circling it, keep them on one side. It's basic tactics, really.
"But basic doesn't mean easy, does it?" he muttered, reaching up to try and break a smaller branch to use as a makeshift weapon. The branch refused to snap, mocking his feeble attempts.
At least you’re not bored anymore, right?
"That’s not helping," Giuliano snapped back, his voice a mix of irritation and grudging acknowledgment. He needed a plan, something better than just reactionary survival.
Fine, let’s get practical. Remember how they move—quick, darting. You’ve seen that. Use it. When one jumps, it’s committed, can’t change direction midair. That’s your moment. Make them miss, make them pay.
Resigned yet oddly energized by his inner dialogue, Giuliano decided it was time to act. "Alright then, let's see what this pathetic excuse for a body can do," he declared, pushing himself to stand fully on the branch.
As he readied himself, his inner voice began to sing in a taunting tone, Ring-a-round-the-rosie, a pocket full of posies...
Ignoring the nursery rhyme echoing in his head, Giuliano honed in on the shadowy figures darting below. Timing was everything. As one of the creatures coiled its body for a leap, he mirrored its movements—not away, but aggressively towards it. Using the creature’s momentum against it, he aimed to bring it down with him.
The impact was brutal. As they collided mid-air, a shockwave of pain surged through Giuliano’s body, magnified by the ground meeting him with unforgiving force. The creature beneath him let out a high-pitched scream, a sound so piercingly feline that it scratched at something deep in his memory, stirring an unsettling sense of familiarity.
Landing heavily, the breath was knocked out of him. Pain flared across his body, each nerve ending firing in protest. He scrambled on all fours towards the large tree trunk, the smooth bark making him slip. Using the trunk as a shield, he forced the shadows to approach from only one direction.
The pain was intense, pulsing through him with each beat of his heart, but it was the eerie scream of the creature that continued to haunt his senses.
Hush-a-bush, hush-a-bush, we all fall down.
Giuliano gritted his teeth, leaning heavily against the tree. The pain grounded him, reminding him that he was still very much alive and in peril. With the shadows now constrained to one avenue of attack, he could at least attempt to control the chaos. But the scream had unsettled him deeply, resonating with a part of his past that he couldn't quite place.
"Keep it up, and maybe we won’t just fall down," Giuliano muttered through clenched teeth, steeling himself for the next assault. The shadows wove in and out of the moonlight like sinister specters in a macabre dance of death.
Right side, watch it! his inner voice warned just as the shadow to his right surged forward. Its glowing eyes left a luminous trail as it latched onto Giuliano's face. His reflexes lagged.
So much for planning.
Before he could reorient, the others pounced. Teeth, sharp as needles, drove into the tender flesh of his cheeks, pulling a visceral scream from his lips.
Sharp, yet their jaws don’t seem that strong. Something to remember.
With grim determination, Giuliano grabbed the head of the creature, his back scraping against the smooth bark of the tree.
The situation spiraled rapidly. Another creature, its eyes gleaming with predatory intent, clamped onto his left leg. As its teeth sank deep, the additional agony of its claws scraping down his skin made him gasp.
Pain is just a signal, ignore it if you can.
A third beast wrapped itself around his right arm, its bite igniting a fiery agony that forced him to release his grip on the creature mauling his face. The intensity of the pain pushed him to the edge of consciousness.
Prioritize, Giuliano. If your neck is cut, you have just a few seconds. Act.
Giuliano’s right arm flailed, attempting to shake off the clinging terror, but it was relentless, its claws embedding deeper with each desperate twitch.
Don’t just flail. Think!
Gripping the lower jaw of the first attacker, he wrenched it off, its sharp teeth dragging across his skin, carving deep, bleeding trenches across his face and neck.
Good, use that anger.
His fingers found purchase around the creature's head, and with a mixture of fear and fury, he yanked it away. The sensation of tearing skin sent shivers down his spine. Holding the creature aloft, he swung it with all his might, his pain finding a violent outlet.
One down, two to go. Keep the tally.
Quest Progression
Foes Vanquished
1/3
Releasing the now lifeless creature, Giuliano's gaze snapped to the one on his leg. His right arm was numb, each movement sending searing pain through his body. Attempting to lift his injured leg to shake the creature off, he lost his footing and crashed down onto the forest floor, directly onto the predator.
Endure, Giuliano. You wanted to fight. Now deal with the pain.
As the creature under him squirmed, he seized the opportunity, pressing down harder, feeling its bones yield under his weight.
This is survival, not a circus act. No room for error here, not when the stakes are this real.
With the creature pinned beneath him, he prepared to strike, drawing on reserves of strength he hadn't known he possessed.
Remember, every moment you're in pain, you're still alive. That's more than can be said for others.
As Giuliano’s full weight bore down, the creature tensed beneath him. In a desperate bid to end the struggle, he repeatedly drove his leg down. After several forceful blows, a haunting crunch resonated through the air, snapping him out of his frenzied state.
Quest Progression
Foes Vanquished
2/3
The mocking moonlight cast a glow on the lifeless creatures.
Whisker, Myst... His heart caught in his throat as realization dawned—the creatures bore striking resemblances to his own cats.
The gray-furred one, Whisker, had unfocused eyes and a neck at a grotesque angle, while Giuliano's bloodied leg rested above Myst’s crushed form. Once having flawless ashy fur, now she lay tainted with blood, her chest flattened.
Pounce, the orange-striped cat, was latched onto Giuliano's arm, now mangled beyond recognition. The pain was a distant echo to his fading awareness.
You can’t hesitate now—finish it. But can you? The inner voice wavered for the first time, a tinge of doubt seeping through.
He moved, trapping Pounce beneath him, and with the last dredges of his strength, he pressed down. Her pained cries cut through him, each mewl scratching at the remnants of his resolve.
She’s not your Pounce. She would never do that, remember that.
But as he prepared to deliver the final blow, a flicker of hesitation paralyzed him. He could feel Pounce's heartbeat under his palm, frantic and fading.
This isn’t just about survival anymore, is it? Look at her, Giuliano. Really look.
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Tears blurred his vision, the harsh reality of his actions settling in. With a shuddering breath, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Pounce. I'm so, so sorry."
As the darkness loomed, threatening to consume him, a burning sensation took hold, as though myriad minuscule architects were piecing him back together, one cell at a time. This rebirth was agonizing—his teeth ground together, threatening to shatter, his body writhing uncontrollably, eyes flickering wildly in their sockets.
Quest Completed
Well done, cultivator. You've proven your mettle. Either ascend the trials ahead or stagnate in the waters of mediocrity. Your cultivation manual will define the rest of your journey. Choose wisely.
Despite the overwhelming pain, a faint, choked whisper escaped Giuliano's lips, “Fuck you, System.”
Another screen manifested.
Cultivation Manual Selection
Spirit Arsenal
Connect with spirits of the departed and mold them into formidable weapons to aid your quest for immortality.
Soulbound Menagerie
Forge bonds with the spirits of beasts, cultivate a mutual relationship, and together, unleash unparalleled potential.
Veil of Sorrow
Deny the world, harness your grief and sorrow to warp reality to your desire. To live is to endure suffering, and you will come to master it.
The aftershocks of Giuliano's ordeal made him tremble, causing his body to shudder uncontrollably. While the physical injuries had mended miraculously, the traumatic experience had been etched deep.
Hey, you did alright there. I mean, for what it’s worth... you’re still breathing, and that’s... something, right? His inner voice faltered, the usual sardonic edge softening into something uncomfortably close to compassion.
You know, it’s awkward saying this to you... Why is it so much easier to comfort others? To tell them 'good job' or 'keep going' and mean it? When it comes to ourselves, why do the words feel so foreign?
Giuliano’s mind teetered on the edge of consciousness, his inner voice’s rare attempt at support swirling into the darkness enveloping him.
Well, whatever the case, don’t die just yet. We've got a whole lot of nothing to look forward to.
***
The placid moon hung high in the sky, the air carrying a smell of decaying flesh.
Cold winds sliced through the dense forest, chilling Milly to the bone. Her uniformed pants and the tattered remnants of her clothing were scant protection against the biting cold. Despite her determination, her thoughts kept drifting, replaying the day's events and wondering how she had ended up here.
Her day had started ordinarily enough.
She had awakened with a good hour to spare before work. But just as she was about to leave her home, a deafening sonic boom shattered the serenity of the morning.
The earth trembled underfoot, and in a heartbeat, she found herself thrust into a realm beyond her wildest imagination.
You've always craved a challenge, Milly. Why not choose the hardest difficulty? She had taken this as a mere fantasy, perhaps a dream, and now she faced the consequences.
How could I have been so dumb? she internally chastised. Remembering the fantasy novels she had read and the vivid dreams she experienced, she scolded herself further, I should've taken it seriously. But no, I had to be adventurous.
Caught up in her own world, the sudden and violent cacophony from the forest jolted her back to the dire present. The unmistakable sounds of trees being uprooted and guttural growls pierced the night, causing her pulse to spike.
Emerging from the shadows were the beasts. Even hunched on all fours, they stood a menacing four meters tall. The pale light revealed sharp teeth set in a snarl, and their bodies were punctuated with rough, rock-like outgrowths. These gave them an appearance of grotesque deformity. Their movements were anything but graceful, the rocky appendages impeding their every step as they stumbled from one step to another.
Milly steadied her handmade revolver, the weight familiar and somewhat comforting. Her grandfather’s voice echoed in her mind, "Always be ready, Milly. The forest teaches, and sometimes, it tests."
As she lined up her shot, Milly couldn’t help but think back to the hunting stories her family used to share around the campfire. They spoke of tracking deer through the underbrush, not dodging monsters in a nightmarish forest.
"This is more like the hunting I dreamed of as a kid," she mused, a grim smile playing on her lips as she steadied her breath. "Only a tad more lethal."
Aim for the eyes. That single thought raced through Milly's mind as her finger tightened around the trigger.
The shot rang out, the flash temporarily blinding Milly. Without hesitation, she took two more shots, each as precise as the last, before launching herself from her treetop vantage point, breaking her fall with a roll.
Nailed it, Milly cheered herself, blinking the white splotches from her vision as her legs gave all they had, propelling her as far from her tree as possible.
The creatures responded with fury, their roars ripping through the night like a storm. Their massive forms thundered forward, uprooting trees and causing the ground to quiver with each powerful stride.
Navigating through the dense forest, Milly's every step was hampered by the twisted roots and tangling vines. As she sprinted, branches clawed at her pants, yanking her back and challenging her every move. The cacophony of the beasts grew louder, their proximity sending chills down her spine. Then, to her relief, the sound of a great tree crashing emanated from the spot she had just abandoned.
It wasn't her first rodeo – this was the fifth such chase, and the creatures seemed far from tired. Running as fast as she could, she managed to bring up her quest window in between breaths.
Modular System
Name
Emily “Milly” Hartfield
Title
Unable to pull further stats
Complete the quest
Show your worth
Kill your pursuers
0/2
Reward
Choice of 5 cultivation manuals and complete system integration.
You've got this, Milly, she mentally coached herself, just two enormous rock bears that might be bulletproof. Piece of cake.
***
Meteorites burning in unnatural hues set the sky ablaze with their incandescent trails. The earth groaned and quaked, sending tremors through the streets as shattered glass and debris rained down, punctuated by the sharp cracks of concrete splintering.
Buildings succumbed to their wounds, groaning as they collapsed into themselves, each meteor’s impact making the earth shudder as if recoiling from death's touch.
Rafa's heart thrummed violently, a relentless engine in his chest. The rushing blood nearly masking the cacophony of the world crumbling around him.
Debris tripped him, his coughs lost in the symphony of the apocalypse dismantling his neighborhood piece by piece.
With each frantic step—past outstretched hands and haunting faces trapped behind broken windows—a new layer of helplessness carved into him. "Vamos, Rafa. You can't save everyone, but you can save someone." This mantra cut through the despair, spurring him on, a beacon in the engulfing darkness.
He paused before the remains of what had been the community's vibrant hub, 'New Día Bakery.'
The once brightly painted three-story building was now nearly a heap of rubble. Its cheerful colors dulled by dust and debris, only the back section stood defiantly against the destruction, faring slightly better than the neighboring businesses which had turned to rubble.
His feet throbbed as he picked his way through the bakery's remains, where the memory of fresh bread was now smothered by the acrid stench of ash. The desperate cries grew sharper, guiding him through the debris.
A lone wall stood stubbornly, clinging to a staircase that led to what was left of the second floor.
He gave a wide berth to the meteorite nestled in the rubble—the catalyst of destruction. Its surface emitted an ominous glow, hinting at radioactivity and stirring a fleeting fear of cancer within him. But that fear was swiftly crushed by the more pressing reality of the disaster at hand, one that promised a swifter end than any disease.
He stumbled over a splintered board but quickly regained his footing and surged towards the stairs. The wooden steps groaned under his weight, a clamor of snaps and groans that matched the frantic racing of his heart. "Estoy aquí! Hold on!"
Amidst the rubble of the second floor was a creature of nightmares.
Canine in shape but monstrous in size, it boasted fur that bristled like spear tips, dark and matted. At 1.86 meters, Rafa was not used to looking up to meet another’s gaze, yet he found himself dwarfed by the broad chest of the beast, his head just reaching past its muscular shoulders.
It smashed a door apart with powerful swipes of its massive paws, each blow sending splinters flying as if tearing through paper rather than wood. From the other side, the pitch and volume of the pleas for help escalated, making it clear that time was running out.
A paralyzing chill gripped Rafa as he watched, the icy fingers of fear squeezing his heart. His hand, almost of its own accord, reached for the small cross at his collar, gripping it like a lifeline. The cold metal pressed against his palm was a small comfort as he whispered a plea under his breath, "Dios, dame fuerza."
With a final thunderous crash, the door gave way under the beast’s onslaught.
On the doorway was a woman, blood seeping from a wound on her arm, clutching a knife with determination. Cowering behind her, a man wrapped his arms protectively around a young child—these were Vasquez’s, the heart of the neighborhood, now cornered by the nightmare that had invaded their home.
As the beast shifted its bulk, preparing to step through the remains of the door, Rafa seized his chance. He was not just tall; his frame was forged from a lifetime of hard work and dedicated exercise, muscles honed through countless hours of labor. Shaking from a potent adrenaline and nervousness, he hurled himself at the beast.
The element of surprise was his only ally as he aimed to tackle the creature away from the family.
With a bellow that echoed through the broken floor, Rafa launched himself at the massive form. His shoulder connected with the beast's side with a thunderous thud, the force of the impact reverberating through his bones. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to slow as Rafa felt the entire weight of the creature shift against his momentum. The air was driven from his lungs upon contact, and a sharp pain flared across his shoulder.
Rafa’s teeth were bared in a grimace of determination and pain as he pushed against the hulking form. The creature’s fur, dark and bristly, brushed against his skin like thousands of tiny needles, threatening to break through with every shift of its massive body.
The beast staggered under the unexpected force, its heavy feet scrabbling against the rubble-strewn floor to regain balance. Rafa’s momentum briefly lifted the creature off the ground.
In the precarious seconds that followed, Rafa's muscles screamed in protest, his veins standing out like steel cables against his skin as he wrestled with the beast's considerable weight. The creature's supernatural blue eyes, devoid of pupils, burned with an otherworldly glow, intensifying as it regained its footing.
Keep steady, Rafa. Just keep steady.
As the creature’s gaze locked onto Rafa, the ghostly blue of its pupilless eyes seemed to burn with fury, the light intensifying ominously. With a menacing growl, it snapped its jaws forward, aiming to crush Rafa's skull between its fangs.
With a deft shift of his weight, Rafa narrowly averted the fatal trajectory of the beast's maw, instead offering his shoulder as a less lethal alternative. The creature's teeth, sharp as daggers, sank into him.
Not today, beast. Not today.
A visceral fear gripped Rafa as the beast began to thrash its head, waves of agonizing pain washing over him. An almost bestial roar left Raf’s throat.
Overwhelmed by the onslaught of pain, Rafa’s resistance crumbled. His arm, already pushed past its breaking point, failed him, collapsing under the weight of the creature’s paw. The air trembled with the violence of the impact, paw met flesh, and what accompanied was the harrowing snap of bone.
Reality tilted and spun as the beast released its grip on his shoulder, stepping back with what appeared to be a sadistic satisfaction gleaming in its otherworldly blue eyes. It surveyed the damage it had inflicted with a gaze that seemed almost approving, Rafa's bloodied and broken arm and shoulder a testament to its might.
Each breath was a battle, air clawing painfully through his constricted throat. Hot tears coursed down his face, not just from pain but from defiance as he bellowed through gritted teeth, “Come on, demônio! Is that all you've got?” His voice was raw and faltering, a mix of pain and indomitable will.