“Bastard,” the armless jailbird muttered. Anger warring with shock long enough to force the words past trembling lips.

“I never thought I’d see one, but that was a shadowreaver. It must have a lair nearby. It’s the only reason to leave us alive. It wants to keep our meat fresh to feed its spawn. They can only eat live prey or newly severed flesh. It won’t be gone long.”

In that moment, Edge knew that he was dead. That he would either expire from blood loss now, or live long enough for the monster to drag him back to its nest and serve him to its young.

Slipping into shock, the warmth fled his limbs. His thoughts grew dim as his lifeblood painted the floor in drips, and dribbles, and gobs. The reaver isn’t as clever as it thinks. It cut too deep. I’ll be dead long before it returns.

He knew that there was something that he still needed to do. Something that kept the embers of hope burning in the depths of midnight hell. But what was it? It was so hard to fight through the pain and think through the haze.

When he’d realized he was dying, all other thoughts had left his head. But just before he grew too weak to stand, Edge remembered the reliquary. It will open any second. I don’t know what’s in there, but it’s the only chance I have. Get up, Edge. Hurry up and fucking move.

Rising back to his feet was the hardest thing that he’d ever done. Walking across the room was the second. Edge started staggering toward the altar, dragging his guts behind him like a string of sausages. Twenty feet to go. Fifteen.

When he was ten feet away from the altar stone, his legs gave out from under him, and he hit the ground hard. His vision flashed white when his head struck the floor, almost knocking him out again.

He gritted his teeth and started to crawl, heading for the opening in the marble, through which light had begun to shine.

By now, his vision was growing dim along the periphery. The world looked like it was at the other end of a long, dark tunnel. His body felt frozen, and he couldn’t stop shaking. It was a battle to keep himself moving, each inch more difficult than the last.

Edge realized that he was drifting off, and not into a dream. About to step into oblivion’s embrace. A sleep from which there would be no waking.

No. Not like this. Not without fighting until my last breath.

Too weak to crawl, Edge began wriggling forward on his stomach, hands reaching toward the reliquary as he painted the floor in steaming gore.

What must have only taken a couple of seconds felt like hours. Days. A lifetime. Each millimeter drove molten daggers into his shredded guts, while the rest of him felt like it was encased in ice and lead.

It was so hard to move. To think. To find the will to drag his body those final few feet. But at last Edge found himself drawing near the concealed cavity, where something was glowing with a bright purple light.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

He thought that he heard the sound of chains rattling together. An endless clatter of link sliding along link, like all the chains in the world were contained with the space below.

He’d reached the alcove leading under the altar. All that was left was to get down there. As he peered into the opening, the voice of the System rang out. Not coming from Edge’s Guide, but from the reliquary itself.

The containment field has been deactivated. You may forge a pact and claim your [R̸̲̠̀̈͗̏è̶̪͎͉͆͝d̴͎͓̈́̑̈͝a̷̗̅̃́͆c̴̫̊͘ẗ̵̤̳́̔̎è̷͓̺͗̿͝ḍ̵̨̡̀̀̆͑] core.

The word “core” resounded across Edge’s mind like a pair of dice rolling across the table. While a basic core wouldn’t be enough to save him anymore, there was a chance, however fleeting, that the reliquary held a rarer variant. One that possessed an ultimate ability.

He didn’t know much about ultimates, since the details of their powers were fiercely guarded by the people who wielded them. But there was a possibility that the right ultimate could save him from his wound and then help him escape the reaver’s territory.

There’s only one way to find out, Edge. What have you got to lose?

He didn’t have any more energy to drag himself forward. Instead, he tipped himself over the ledge and let himself fall, body rolling down the steep incline in a boneless tumble. He had just enough willpower to reach out after hitting the bottom, raising one hand with the last scrap of his strength.

Just as Edge’s heart beat for the final time, his fingertips brushed against something that he had no words to describe. It felt incandescent and electric. Solid and intangible. Chaotic and ordered, all at the same time.

A prompt from his Guide appeared in front of his eyes, just as his vision faded to black.

You have found an unbound power core.

Core Information

Name: [Skill-Eater].

Rarity: Unique.

Category: Unique.

Attribute points per cycle: 2.

Ultimate ability: [Extraction] (active). Uses per day: 3. Cooldown period: 24 hours.

Steal the skills of monsters, men, and beasts, and claim them for your own.

Core trait: Collector (unique) [Alternate advancement].

You can no longer acquire or rank-up skills through normal means. You may slot twice as many skills as before. Additionally, you will gain an extra skill slot with every new stage.

Would you like to forge a contract with [Skill-Eater] and bind the core within you?

Warning: you will no longer be able to acquire skills by normal means.

Edge had never heard of a unique core before, or a core that came with strings attached. But there wasn’t time to worry about that now.

“Yes,” he tried to say. But all that escaped his lips was a bloody bubble, and the darkness rose to swallow him whole.

The System must have sensed his intentions and taken that for consent.

Because just before his neurons stopped firing, Edge heard a voice that reverberated throughout every fiber of his being. Shook him to the very depths of his soul.

“The cage is open.

The price has been paid and the seal has been transferred.

A blood pact with Skill-Eater has been forged.

Stand by for core ignition.”