There was something pulling at his leg. It was annoying. Hopefully, it would go away and Alan would in turn go back to the sweet oblivion of sleep. Yes. Sleep. The sweetest joy and the greatest thief of pain. If the pulling would just stop, he would be able to fall into his safe haven of dreamless darkness.
Something sharp stabbed at his recently healed leg and Alan yelled, kicking out. There was soft resistance and something fell not far from him with a dull thud. The pain of the sharp thing lingered like an annoying mosquito but was soon overpowered by a much worse pain that shot through the whole body, waking up his tired mind and locking the doors of rest under its nose.
Alan opened his eyes with a groan. There was dirt everywhere – under him, on him, around him. There was even some inside of him and he spat. Using his one good hand he pushed against the ground. His whole body ached and there was sharp stabbing pain on the left side of his chest as he took a deep breath. Slowly, carefully, he sat up and looked around.
He was certainly underground. The surroundings were illuminated only by the ball on the tip of his spear which lay a bit further from him. The light bugs were dead still and he saw a few that didn’t glow. If they all died, he would be left blind.
Looking around there was earth and rocks everywhere. The hole or cave he was currently in was oddly angular, reminiscent of something that was built rather than formed naturally.
The far end of the strange room was hidden as no light managed to reach it. Alan stood up grunting and cursing. A few coughs tore at his chest as he breathed and he swayed but managed to right himself without falling.
[Efficient Basic Movement] was completely useless in his current state. Alan doubted there was a possible way he could move that wouldn’t hurt. Slowly he reached the spear and took a deep breath, cringing at the pain, before he bent over to lift it.
At least he was still alive.
Nothing a few levels and the luck of a monkey’s paw couldn’t fix. He laughed and regretted it.
The top of the room was cracked and littered with plant growths and peeking roots, and he saw a glimpse of the hole he had come from, where the vegetation was damaged and broken. It was at an angle so that’s probably how he had managed to survive the fall and was able to even walk now. It reminded him of a pipe or a vent, weirdly.
The floor was also quite soft and his feet sank into the dry chalky earth.
Lucky.
He suddenly remembered he had kicked something and turned the light to look at the corners. There was nothing there. Maybe it had been a dream?
He also remembered his bag and looked inside finding a bunch of dripping herbs as the water balls made by Eldon were all gone, probably broken due to the fall. There was still some wet and a bit smashed boar meat, and he took a few bites, savoring the moisture and sudden wave of energy, no matter how minute it was. The bag was surprisingly dry on the outside, but unfortunately, the herbs seemed to have soaked up all the water, so he couldn’t even wring it dry in his mouth. There was also the small dirty vial that had been on the kobolds but the dark liquid didn’t look appetizing at all.
He was thirsty and meat wouldn’t do it.
Fuck it. At worst I get high. And dying high sounds better than dying sober. Unless it's poison.
Grabbing a small bundle of what looked like grass that was a bit wider than regular grass, he took out a strand and sucked on it. It was refreshingly sweet and let out more moisture than Alan had hoped for. A few more small strands were enough to make him feel much better.
With renewed vigor and a soft numbness that had started spreading in his whole body, Alan ventured forth toward the far end of the room. There were two exits there that looked exactly the same and were once again reminiscent of something familiar – doors. They looked completely the same and Alan shrugged as he went down the left one and found himself in a small tunnel which was as natural looking as tunnels got. It was weird but he was too tired to care and he happily hobbled down in the darkness.
Maybe things weren’t so bad. His mind was lighter, his step less painful. His shoulder was hurting but not nearly as much as it had a few minutes ago. The red eyes in front of him looked just like small evil rubies and he smiled at how pretty they were.
The overgrown rat didn’t share his sentiment as it shrieked and went for his legs. It was the size of a chihuahua and half as vicious, which made Alan feel a pang of fear as he sent a blast of [Mind Jab] almost on reflex. It was way more effective than he had hoped as the rat clutched at its head with its tiny paws and shrieked louder.
Poor thing. The spear ended its misery and Alan turned away. Life was such a beautiful thing but he had to take it away for his own good. Ah, the tragedy.
You have slain Rat (4)
Just a rat? He was pretty sure rats didn’t get that big if they were normal rats. But what did he know about rats really? Who was he to judge? Sorry rat. You were probably a gifted exemplary member of rat society. Big and handsome and strong with such vicious teeth and nice fur coat that was oh so soft, and fluffy before it was covered in blood.
Alan felt a tear fall down from his eye. He was thirsty again and mindlessly took another stalk of grass to suck on. The tunnel weaved and continued on and Alan randomly picked a direction. A few times he found himself in rooms similar to the one he had fallen into but chalked it up to the designer reusing his ideas. He also often got besieged by rats and each time he lamented their tragic deaths. There was one rat he was pretty sure had sung a hymn to his beloved wife and children back in the nest as it had died from the spear wound. What a beautiful experience it was. The joys of life and family.
You have slain Rat (4)
You have slain Rat (5)
You have slain Rat (5)
You have slain Rat (3)
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You have slain Rat (4)
Alan felt great. He hadn’t felt that good in years. He didn’t know if it was the fact that he was walking down the tunnels like a god of vengeance, bringing destruction and stabs to the nation of rats, or because the grass stalk in his mouth tasted so good.
He had other herbs too. They remained wonderfully moist in the waterproof system-provided bag, bless it for being so thoughtful. Alan took a few stalks and tried them one by one. One was bitter but reminded him of coffee and he treated himself to a few stalks, while the other was also bitter but in a much more unpleasant way. He still tried a few stalks, afraid to miss something delicious, but chose the first one.
Finally, he bundled a bunch of all three types, enjoying how the flavors complemented each other, and hummed as he kept walking. It was good to be alive.
Alan stopped. He had lost track of time, but his limbs were mostly numb and at the same time, his body felt light as a feather; even walking had been almost enjoyable. His path forward was blocked now, though. Multiple eyes shone in the darkness of the wide empty cavern he found himself in. Was it a cavern? There were stairs on his right – was he seeing right? Oh well.
He felt himself grow angry and took a fresh stalk of grass to munch on. The rats screamed as one and Alan laughed as he cast [Mind Jab] again and again, as it was almost effortless. His [Efficient Basic Movement] seemed to be working seamlessly, making each of his movements smooth as if he had practiced them for hundreds of hours.
You have slain Rat (6)
You have slain Rat (5)
You have slain Rat (7)
You have slain Rat (6)
You have slain Rat (5)
You have slain Rat (4)
You have slain Rat (8)
…
He felt like he was dancing a dance of gore and death. Rats hung from different parts of him, but there was no pain even if their teeth were deep into his flesh. He smashed, stabbed, kicked, and at one point even tried to bite a particular rat that had jumped him from out of nowhere.
Even his left arm cooperated, if a bit reluctantly. There was some clicking in the shoulder and his fingers didn’t quite function as he intended them to, but it was still useful when his spear didn’t reach the tiny critters. He remembered the daggers on his belt and drew one of them with his stiff left hand.
Wielding both a spear and a dagger in an awkward dance Alan trashed and stabbed.
He lost himself in the dance and laughed as he imagined how ridiculous he must look from the side. Guts flew and blood colored his vision. A few times he stabbed himself as the rats tried to climb his legs, grabbing whatever was left of his pants.
By the time he realized there were no more rats, everything was sticky and it was hard to walk. Not only because of the rat corpses that were literally everywhere around him, but because his body finally refused to listen.
He smiled. This too was a good thing; he had done enough. It was enough… wasn’t it? There was a face in front of him. His aunt? No, some other massive bitch; he couldn’t remember where he knew her form. But what was she doing in the tunnels with him? Grandma? In Valhalla? What was he doing again?
His fall was broken by the soft carpet of rat guts and blood-soaked fur.
Level up!
You have reached level 16!
+ 9 Attribute Point
Your trait has advanced. Strong-willed has become Survivor’s Will (Rare).
---
Florence watched the forlorn members of their small camp. Even her skill was at its limit after collecting so much worthless sadness. She toyed with the idea of shoving all of it onto someone to see what would happen, as it was wearing on her psyche just being there. Would they kill themselves? Would she cause them life-long depression, screwing with the careful balance their brains had somehow achieved?
No. As much as she despised most of them, she was not that heartless yet. It was a pity what had happened to Matt but she would be lying if she said she felt sorry for the creep. Something must’ve broken when she pushed a bit too hard. At least poor Rob was in a better place; he was not built for this.
She used her first skill to tune out the buzzing of all the emotions she had gathered, focusing on a particular trick she had learned - calming herself. That was her favorite thing about her powers. She let the emotions trickle out of her, careful not to affect herself too much as that was an easy mistake to make. She had done so the first few times and had been like a sedated zombie for hours.
The calm washed over her, dispersing the anger. She had lots and lots of stored of that too, but it turned out it was a much harder emotion to use. Fear was her favorite, as it made people compliant and docile in the right quantities. And there was a lot of fear around.
With her two skills, she could easily keep an even balance in the group, taking a bit away, giving a bit back where she needed, and even affecting the flow and how it affected people. It was a fun game, like a puzzle. She didn’t do any of that of course. Not now when the crazy huntress was watching her.
Ashlyn had been absolutely furious with her after they had left Alan to sacrifice himself. But what choice did Florence have? The man himself had asked for it and she wasn’t about to die. It had been tough on her too, as he had been one of the few men treating her like a human and not a piece of candy ready for the taking during their years in the office. They had never been friends, but Alan was a man who didn’t want friends, and she respected that.
She had underestimated him, thinking him selfish and goal-driven. Maybe he was, but what she had caught when she had peeked was confusion, anger, lots of fear, and some love. Not romantic love, just love for his friend. The man hadn’t known who he was and what he wanted but he had acted as if he did. He was like her in that regard. And both of them were kind of stupid about it.
A pity.
A figure wrapped in a dark green cloak appeared from the woods. Where Ashlyn had found that cloak, no one knew. She didn’t speak to anyone anymore, even Davis and Emerson. She had spent every hour of daylight since Alan was left behind searching the ruins. They had followed her the first time, even Florence, but they had found no traces of him or the monsters. They, however, found a bunch of ripped-apart kobolds.
The following three days Ashlyn had gone out alone, ignoring the requests of people to join her. Florence had tried to take a closer look into the girl’s emotional state but she had quickly given up when Ashlyn had nocked an arrow and pointed it at her with inhuman speed. Florence had felt the shadow of death then. It had been a terrifying experience. How had Ashlyn felt her intrusion so fast? How strong was she?
Tim had tried too, but even if had taken a leadership role at the beginning, it had long slipped away. For that, Florence was glad. For all the stoicism and charisma, the man had, he was not suited for this. He was good at playing office politics and maximizing profits, not managing a bunch of newly-born superhumans.
What worried her most was the change in the forest. The one time she had left the camp they had heard bird calls and insects, like there should have been from the start. There was still a zone of silence around their camp, which was nothing more than some leafy bedding and a campfire, but it was shrinking fast. A few boars and a wolf had already shown themselves on the other sides of the lake and there had been an accident with a strange monkey that attacked Emerson when he was gathering firewood.
Alan had been right. There was some sort of protection around their group, and it was going away. Florence was not confident in surviving by herself, but her hands were currently tied. Whatever Ashlyn was doing in the forest alone was working. Her whole being was radiating danger and Florence would rather sit and wait than make the girl even madder.
Especially after they had received a new quest, confirming everything about Alan’s theory further.
You have received a Quest: Level up!
Reach level 25 and pick a class before the tutorial period is over.
Time left: 3 days, 14 hours.
Reward: Enchanted item
This was going to get much more dangerous.