Chapter 7: Preparation

When Cal awoke, a sense of urgency gripped him. The rest had helped, but he could feel the ticking clock inside him—only two days' worth of essence remained. He needed to act quickly, to get things done before he would be forced to hunt for more cores.

The first thing he did was retreat into his mind, focusing inward to inspect his core space. It had changed, albeit subtly. The dark void that once housed only his fractured red gem now bore something new: a set of runes. They were etched into the darkness like fissures in space, glowing faintly as they circled his core. These runes were the manifestation of his new ability, one he named Essence Sense.

Essence Sense allowed Cal to spread a thin layer of essence around him, functioning like a sonar that mapped out his surroundings up to fifty feet. It made navigating the pitch-black caverns far easier. He activated the ability, feeling the energy pulse outward in a wave. Within moments, he had a clear mental image of the room he had first appeared in.

The room was small and mostly empty, its features stark and simple. At the highest point of the sloped floor stood the stone hands, silent and imposing. The lowest point of the room led to the only exit: a dark tunnel that Cal had yet to explore. The room's simplicity was a stark contrast to the complexity of the situation he found himself in, but it offered no answers, only the reassurance that he was alone for now.

The activation of Essence Sense required a small, steady drain of essence, a fact that would have been concerning given his need to conserve power. But as Cal examined his core more closely, he realized something remarkable: the very leak that threatened to drain him dry was now serving a new purpose. Instead of letting the leaking essence dissipate into nothingness, Cal had found a way to redirect it. He fed the leaking essence into the runes, and as the smoke and red fluid from the core's fractures lifted and connected with the glowing symbols, the runes brightened.

A red light, akin to the core's own glow, burst from the runes. The flow of essence was heavy enough that it kept the ability running without consuming the essence stored within his core. As a result, Essence Sense remained active continuously, its presence a constant, comforting hum in the back of Cal’s mind.

With this newfound ability, Cal had a tool to survive—an edge in the darkness. But the reassurance was tempered by the knowledge that his time was still limited. He couldn’t rely on this small cave forever. The dark tunnel awaited him, and with it, the promise of more essence, more cores, and the strength he needed to secure his survival.

But for now, with Essence Sense mapping out every inch of the cave around him, Cal could plan his next steps with a clearer mind. The essence would not be wasted, not a single drop. He had to stay vigilant, to keep moving forward, to keep feeding the core that held his very life in its fractured grasp. The room was his sanctuary, but soon, he would have to leave its safety. The darkness was no longer an unknown threat—it was his hunting ground.

Cal turned his attention to the creature he had slain. It lay before him, a grotesque fusion of insect and beast—a hulking mass of segmented armor, serrated limbs, and a twisted, maw-like face. The creature’s body was covered in a hard exoskeleton, mottled with dark hues that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Its legs, long and spindly, ended in sharp, clawed tips that had once been capable of rending flesh from bone with ease. The creature’s head was a hideous blend of features—compound eyes like a fly, a mandible-filled mouth reminiscent of a mantis, and the bulk of a predator designed to hunt in darkness.

Cal felt a shiver run through him as he gazed at the monster. The memories of their brutal struggle were still fresh in his mind, but now he saw it not as an adversary, but as a resource—a potential lifeline in this strange, unforgiving world.

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He began his grisly task by examining the exoskeleton. The creature’s armor was thick and durable, akin to the hardest bone, yet with a flexibility that hinted at a mixture of chitin and something else, something tougher. The spiked leg he had torn off during their fight was still usable, so Cal wedged it beneath a section of the exoskeleton and pried it off with a grunt. The armor came away with a crack, revealing the soft, pale flesh beneath.

He worked methodically, removing pieces of the exoskeleton and setting them aside in a growing pile. Each section he removed unveiled more of the creature’s interior—most of which had been mangled beyond recognition during their battle. The internal organs were either punctured, shredded, or had begun to decay in the aftermath of Cal’s frantic search for the core. The stench was nauseating, a mix of rot and coppery blood, but Cal pressed on.

The creature’s legs and back, however, had escaped the worst of the damage. Thick, meaty sections of muscle still clung to the bones, unmarred by the violence of their encounter. It wasn’t much, but it was edible, and in a place like this, anything was better than nothing.

He paused his work and regarded the meat. His stomach churned with hunger, and though the thought of eating raw monster flesh was far from appetizing, he knew he didn’t have much choice. Bugs, after all, were edible raw, and this creature, with its insectoid features, might be as well.

Cal tore a chunk of flesh from one of the legs, the meat cold and slick in his hand. He hesitated for a moment, then forced himself to take a bite. The texture was tough and sinewy, with a bitter, almost metallic taste that made him gag. He chewed slowly, trying not to think about what he was eating, focusing instead on the nourishment it provided.

As he ate, his thoughts wandered. This creature was just the first. There would be others—more monsters with cores, more chances to gather essence and survive. But for now, he had to focus on getting through each day, each moment. The path ahead was dark and uncertain, but Cal was determined to walk it, no matter where it led.

Cal finished stripping the remaining meat from the beast’s carcass, setting the usable portions by the stone hands at the top of the slope. The smell of blood and decay clung to the air, but he forced himself to ignore it as he turned his attention to the creature’s legs. The spiked limb he had been using as a makeshift tool had proven effective, but now it was time to upgrade.

Gripping one of the creature’s other legs, Cal hacked away with the spiked appendage until he had separated it from the body. He then set to work, using the jagged edge of the first leg to cut the new one down to a more manageable size. The process was slow and arduous; the exoskeleton was tough, and the serrated edges of the spiked leg weren’t exactly precise. But eventually, he managed to fashion a crude short sword—a rough, but sturdy blade made from the monster’s own body.

Cal held the weapon in his hand, testing its weight and balance. It wasn’t perfect by any means; the blade was uneven, and the handle was still slightly too thick, but it was a vast improvement over the mere leg he had been using. He had fashioned himself a weapon, a tool of survival in this harsh, unforgiving world.

With his new sword in hand, Cal’s thoughts turned to another pressing issue—clothing, or rather, the lack of it. The remnants of his clothes were in tatters, barely hanging onto his body, and offered no protection against the elements or whatever dangers lay ahead. This monster’s hide might not provide fabric, but its exoskeleton could serve as armor, a makeshift protection against future threats.

He began by breaking off sections of the exoskeleton, choosing pieces that were large enough to cover key areas of his body. The carapace was hard and slightly curved, offering natural protection. Cal used strands of cartilage, hair, and antennae from the beast, along with stringy, sinewy substance he found within the body, to tie the pieces of armor together.

He started with his back and chest, selecting the largest and most durable pieces of the exoskeleton. Using the cartilage and sinew as makeshift straps, he secured the armor across his torso. It wasn’t comfortable—the exoskeleton dug into his skin, and the makeshift straps were tight and slightly rough—but it would serve its purpose. Next, he moved on to his thighs and forearms, repeating the process with smaller pieces of the exoskeleton. He tied the sections of armor as tightly as he could, ensuring they wouldn’t slip or move in the heat of battle.

For his shoulders, he used the curved edges of the exoskeleton, which naturally fit over the contours of his body. These pieces were lighter, allowing him to maintain mobility while still providing protection. Finally, Cal crafted a rudimentary helmet by fitting a piece of the exoskeleton over his head, securing it with antennae strands. The helmet was rough and uneven, with jagged edges that added to his fearsome appearance.

When he was done, Cal stepped back to assess his work. He looked like a warrior from some primal, ancient age—clad in the dark, mottled armor of the creature he had slain. The exoskeleton gave him a wild, almost feral appearance, with the makeshift straps and sinew adding to the impression that he was a survivor in a brutal world.

His new armor wasn’t perfect; it was uncomfortable, and the gaps between the exoskeleton pieces left him vulnerable in places, but it was a start. More than that, it was a statement—Cal was no longer just a victim of this strange world. He was adapting, fighting back, and taking what he needed to survive. With his short sword in one hand and his makeshift armor securely in place, Cal felt a newfound sense of confidence. He was still weak, still struggling to understand this world and the power within him, but he was no longer helpless. He was ready for whatever came next.