As the honeyed rays of dawn bounced off the ocean, Leia steered the boat towards the skyline on the distant horizon. Every now and then, she would cast a glance at Soren, who slept peacefully, curled up like a child. Under different circumstances, the sight might have been endearing, if the memories of his brutality didn’t haunt her thoughts.

A sense of unease simmered beneath the sea’s serene facade. The world had changed. Magic was real, and monsters walked out of portals, each hiding the secret to power within their skulls. She, herself, somehow had a crystal inside her head. Sometimes she pondered if it was all a dream, because, then, it would someday fade away, and she would wake up to find the harrowing darkness waiting for her once again. Anything was preferable to that.

Far ahead, a city was closing in, and so did her options. No matter what happened, she had to live.

…

Mana : 3.4/6

Health : 32.1/92

Soren checked his status. He was recovering well. As soon as he had closed his eyes his body had shut down, transitioning into a deep sleep. It was a miracle that Leia had chosen not to attack. That could have been disastrous. He was fortunate he had seen the night through.

He cracked his neck, enjoying the newfound sense of lightness as the ocean breeze fluttered over his skin. Rising to his feet, he smiled at the sight of approaching land.

“Well done Leia, excellent job,” Soren praised.

“Dont’ mention it. Somebody had to drive,” Leia replied with a weary smile, straining to keep her eyelids open. She tucked a stray, windblown strand of hair behind her ear as Soren placed his hand on her own and pushed the throttle to full power. His other hand supported her back as the change in momentum caused her to stumble.

“I’ll take over from here. You can relax,” he offered.

Leia sat down on the couch, appreciating the beauty of nature. The fresh air, the vastness of the sea, and the warmth of the sun lulled her into a gentle sleep.

A few minutes later, she was jolted awake by a nudge on her shoulder. Soren signaled her to be quite and hopped off the boat to the shore.

“So many dead,” she murmured in shock.

Bloodstained, pungent alleys bespoke of slaughter, the mangled flesh and emptied skulls warning of merciless predators. Thousands of corpses and not one of them a monster’s. Essences gone, absorbed to empower their butchers.

“But no monsters in sight,” Soren replied with a frown. “Watch out they might come from above or below.”

“What?” Leia yelped in alarm.

“They should be airborne or underground predators. If you see anything approaching from the sky, we run,” he warned, and handed her a pistol.

As they worked their way though the city Soren gazed at the wet ground and the serene skies. Above, orange and purple clashed on an unblemished canvas, but below the smell of decay, the gunshots and the screams warped any artistic beauty.

“Die, you piece of shit,” somebody shouted.

Agility : 1.6

Soren accelerated rapidly, surpassing the previous human limits, and reached the battlefield in an instant.

Three human figures were gripping smoking pistols. The fourth, rotten and decayed, raced among them with unsettling speed on muscleless limbs. Ghostly, candlelit flames crackled inside otherwise hollow eye sockets and ragged strips of flesh dangled from bare bones, protecting nonexistent organs in a grotesque parody of life.

The men fired relentlessly at it, tearing the hanging pieces of flesh, but the skeleton continued to advance. Its exposed femurs twisted unnaturally as it pounced on all fours.

One of the men dove aside, but the creature changed the direction of its attack faster than he could react.

Crimson flames splashed as a fist landed on the zombie’s back, throwing its trajectory off and saving the man by a hair’s breadth. The creature swiped back blindly, too fast for Soren to dodge, forcing him to block the strike. His bones grunted and ached under the tremendous force. The zombie grabbed his wrist, pinning him in place, and brought its claws down on his chest. There was no point in guarding himself anymore.

Soren summoned more Mana, the fire glowing orange. Utilizing the zombie’s wide attack arc, he punched straight at its face. Despite the disadvantage in speed, the shorter distance allowed him to land the blow before the zombie, but the creature was unfazed. Decaying nails dug into his obliques, shredding the muscle and cracking his ribs.

Health : 32.1/92 → 15.6/92

The fire flared white, forming a fireball as the zombie wound its arm back, grey candleflames burning with the promise of death.

Mana : 3.4/6 → 2.4/6

The fireball fizzled out halfway into the monster’s chest. The zombie’s grip tightened, preventing escape. Soren’s bones grinded under its strength.

Frantically, he emptied his entire Mana pool, its passage fracturing veins.

Mana : 2.4/6 → 0/6

In record time, a new fireball formed. It lacked the size of the previous one and the flames sprinkled erratically as Soren tried to control it.

His mind vibrated with the song of Mana as he aimed his spell; this time at the zombie’s temple. The fireball exploded upon contact, scattering flaming fragments of bone, allowing Soren to snatch its essence from its skull. The skeleton staggered and went limp

“You have absorbed the essence of a level 2 Zombie-[Common]. +0.1 Durability”

Fast, strong, durable, and above all unflinching.

It was a tool of undeath, born to destroy and devour.

“What are you?” an antsy member of the hunting group, yelled, interrupting his train of thought. Black hair, cut short by a dull blade, unevenly covered his scalp. He wore a tattered, button-up shirt, resembling an office worker more than a survivor in the apocalypse.

“I don’t appreciate things being aimed at me,” Soren warned, ignoring the question, and making a show of unbuckling the holster on his waist. Without Mana, he needed some kind of threat.

“Stop it, now! Both of you,” shouted a winded Leia that had just arrived at the scene. “We are all humans here.”

“Bullshit. No human I know can summon fire,” retorted the office worker, pissed.

“Soren, put down the gun,” Leia said.

Soren hesitated for a moment. She should be personable enough to de-escalate the situation, he thought to himself and complied to her wishes.

“Thank you,” Leia said with a disarming smile. “He hates being pressured into doing things,” she explained, trying to ease the mounting tension. The office worker ignored her subtle efforts, his finger fidgeting nervously on the trigger.

Leia continued. “We fled from the island when two portals opened, and monsters flooded the place. We had to escape.” She moved closer until she was beside Soren. “As for the fire magic, you’ll have to ask this guy. I don’t know how he does it either,” she said with a disarming grin.

The men exchanged signals with their eyes. “You are guards from Madstone?” presumed the brown-haired man a bit further away from the rest. He wore a tracksuit as if he had just gone for a run before the portals appeared.

“Well… were,” Soren responded with a wry smile.

“Then, how did only the two of you escape? You want to tell me that out of all the guards, it was just you two that managed to get out?” the office worker pressed, unconvinced.

“We were the closest to the shore,” Soren said, cutting Leia off as she was about to speak.

“You expect me to believe that?” the office worker mocked.

“A swarm of literal living shadows came out of floating fucking portals. Bullets passed through them like they were made of fog. It was a massacre. What more do you want me to do? You think I have any clue what’s going on?” Soren shouted, swinging his arms to emphasize his anger.

“Bullshit! You just killed an undead by yourself. You wield magic for god’s sake. Tell the truth,” the man yelled back, waving his gun around.

“You know what, shoot me. Make sure to aim for the head,” Soren said, fed up, and crossed his arms over his chest.

The office worker was ready to pull the trigger when the last member of the group, a grey-bearded older man in a bulletproof vest, placed a steady hand on his shoulder. Soren’s eyes met his; bright green, they gleamed under the light like a sunny forest.

“It’s fine, Peter. They’re are telling the truth,” the older man assured. The office worker stared at him dumbfounded.

“Ain’t no way you actually believe them, Lee. Those crystals must’ve gotten to your head.”

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“Lower your gun, Peter. This isn’t time for infighting. We need all the help we can get,” Peter was about to retort when the brown-haired man interjected.

“If Lee trusts them, then so do I,” he said, holstering his firearm. Lee nodded thankfully at him.

“Come. We need to return to the shelter before it gets dark,” he said, motioning for Soren and Leia to follow them

“Thank you for trusting us,” Leia said, then felt someone patting her on the back. She moved to the two men in the front, and tried to strike up a conversation.

Meanwhile, Soren was clutching his side, blood seeping though his fingers.

“We have doctors at the shelter. Think you can make it?” Lee asked him.

“I’m just applying pressure. My durability’s high enough to handle it,” Soren replied, removing his hand to reveal that the bleeding had slowed down a lot.

“Durability, huh? I guess that one makes you harder to kill,” Lee remarked with a hint of amazement.

“That’s what I believe, yes. When I put my level up points to it, I felt my body get sturdier like I could survive a bear strike,” Soren explained, wiping his hand on his pants. “And I did, kind of .”

“You sure did,” the older man chuckled. “You’re definitely much more durable than I am. That paw would’ve killed me. I guess being level one gives you a significant advantage,” Lee surmised.

“Not really, level one just provided me with a free attribute point. The essences are what gives you most of the strength,” Soren clarified.

“Really? I absorbed two essences and got some strength and vitality. They are useful but not life-changing.”

“Once you absorb twenty the difference is drastic.”

“Drastic enough to learn magic?” Lee laughed, mimicking casting a spell.

Soren remained stoic. “It would be best not to expect something like that. Magic is more like a skill you acquire rather than something given by the system.”

"That makes sense," Lee acknowledged, offering a handshake.

“Think you can help us hunt some zombies?” he asked. Soren felt his grip. It was strong and firm.

Soren met his resolute gaze. “I’ll do my best,” he replied.

Yesterday, Lee’s grip might have hurt his knuckles, but today he barely registered the squeeze.

“Then you’re already much better than those shivering puddles of cold sweat in the shelter,” Lee scowled. “I understand feeling fear, but I cannot forgive inaction.” Almost in a growl, he continued. “I too, am terrified. It isn’t like I’m used to charging at rotting monsters. But while we waste our time underground, those things get stronger,” he said, pausing to peer into the depths of two scarlet pools. “At dawn our bullets shattered their skeletons, at dusk they barely damage their bones. How much stronger will they be tomorrow?” he pondered grimly.

“Not much stronger.” Soren’s answer startled Lee. “Unless they find new prey, they won’t have a way to gain more attributes. If they keep absorbing essences of the same species they’ll reach a saturation point—if they haven’t already.”

Lee breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, if that’s not the best news I’ve heard today. We’ve got more time than I thought.” He patted Soren on the shoulder with his free hand. “Thank you. That’s invaluable information.” Suddenly, his grip intensified. “How was life in the prison?” he questioned.

Soren did not shy away from Lee’s probing gaze. He stayed calm and unflinching as he recounted his “history” to the man. “Boring. I used to work on the underground floor, you see. In the end I gave up on the promotion and returned to the surface. More people, more light. I figured it would be better until this happened,” Soren gestured to his surroundings, his expression an embodiment of wistfulness and sorrow.

“You must’ve lost many friends,” Lee presumed.

“Too many to count,” Soren replied, his mournful tone discouraging further questioning.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lee said, pulling him into a tight hug. “We’ll make it out of this together.”

“Yes,” Soren said, rubbing the man’s back. “We will.” He was expressionless.

“Come, before the gate closes for the night.”

Stepping over a decaying corpse, they followed the others into an apartment building. Seven flights of stairs led downwards to a reinforced bunker entrance, where a man stood holding a hunting shotgun. Upon noticing Soren’s bleeding, he opened the gate.

“Good job surviving out there. You can relax now. It’s safe here,” the guard said, letting them in.

Soren smiled back and surveyed the interior. It was a vast open space with mats placed on the ground every few meters. People slept, talked, or cried, still rattled by yesterday’s events, trying to make sense of things. The worst of them were unresponsive, not reacting to anything happening around them. On one side, along a wide table, volunteers served food and water. Most of those in line were children, only a few of them accompanied by their parents.

“The infirmary is this way,” Lee said as he pressed down on the door handle.

Inside, nurses rushed around with medical supplies in hand. Some pushed patients on strollers, cramping the hallways and creating a hectic atmosphere. Soren and Lee were completely out of place.

“Get out, both of you! I said I’m not going to treat your suicidal dumbass,” a doctor shouted at Lee as someone helped her remove her bloodied gloves.

“Not me, Samantha. This guy over here got mauled by a zombie when he saved us.” At Lee’s words, Soren lifted his shirt to reveal deep, festering cuts on his wiry, still burnt frame.

Samantha frowned. “Martha, please bring me a new pair of gloves and prepare the first available surgery room you can find,” she requested politely from her assistant, and then shooed Lee away. “You. Out. We are tight on space as it is. And you, strip off your clothes and follow Martha,” she ordered as Lee scrambled out of the infirmary.

Soren trailed behind the nurse into a surgical room. A sedated patient was being transferred from the operating table to a wheeled stretcher.

“Please lie down,” Martha instructed, taking his pants, backpack, and crumpled shirt.

Soren undressed, and the nurse started to cleanse his wounds with iodine. If the sting bothered him, he showed no indication of it.

Samantha stormed into the room, and donned her gloves with anger, clearly annoyed by his presence. Martha retrieved an anesthesia mask.

“No anesthesia please,” Soren requested. The nurse set the mask aside and uncapped a tube of cream.

“No local anesthesia either. I meant none at all,” he clarified firmly.

“That’s unacceptable. We can’t risk you flinching and causing further injury.” Samantha shook her head in disbelief.

“I won’t flinch,” Soren assured her.

“And I don’t trust,” Samantha replied.

“Okay,” Soren said, and attempted to get up, but the doctor slapped his chest back with surprising strength, sending waves of pain rippling through his torso. Soren grunted.

“Everyone’s lost their minds. This damn apocalypse has turned you all into lunatics,” she vented. “If you flinch and get hurt, I’ll dig the scalpel deeper, just so you know,” she threatened, poking his sternum.

Without waiting for a response, she reapplied iodine to his wounds and began removing the contaminated flesh. The scalpel wrestled with his skin. Veins bulged on the doctor’s forehead as she exerted more force until, with great effort, she managed to sever the necrotic tissue. The procedure was rough, marked by a few uncontrolled stabs, yet, despite the pain of his flesh being cut, Soren was eerily still, never reacting to anything the doctor did.

“Does your unnaturally resilient skin have anything to do with your absurd tolerance to pain?” Samantha asked as she tossed a piece of dead skin aside.

“No, they aren’t related,” Soren responded, watching the discarded piece landing atop the others.

“Answer me, damn it,” she demanded, slicing his skin a bit more roughly. “People are dying. I need all the information I can get.” Her harsh tone did not do much to hide her desperation.

It is fair to pay for service provided, Soren thought. “The toughness is due to a high Durability stat, but the pain tolerance is unrelated. That’s a matter of training.”

“I’ll ignore that last part,” the doctor said. “How high is your Durability exactly? Mine’s at 0.2.”

“More than five times as much,” Soren said.

“And how did you achieve that? Every person in here has similar physical attributes,” she pressed on, her hand steady and precise despite her multitasking.

“By killing monsters,” Soren stated plainly, but the room fell silent at his words. Shuffling nurses froze in place, an empty tray clattering to the floor as they covered their ears.

“You absolute buffoon! Are you all trying to get yourself killed? Did you not see how many died fighting those monsters? Did you not see their bodies? Dozens have died on this very table, and you want to join them?” Her yells bounced off the walls. “Do you think this is some sort of game just because there are stats in your head? Reach a hundred strength and suddenly everything’s gonna be alright? You are going to die,” She was panting, her eyes, red, swollen, and on the verge of tears. To distract herself, she motioned for the stiches.

“What’s the alternative?” Soren’s question rippled through the silence… “They are growing stronger, you know. By the day. At some point, the shelter won’t be able to keep them out, no matter how armoured the gate is”… and replaced it with dread.

“The army’s on their way,” Samantha said as busied herself with the needle. It shattered against his skin, and she frowned again. Lately, it was happening too often. “Pass me the stapler.”

“What if they are too late?” Soren asked, but nobody spoke..

The doctor put her weight behind her hands, successfully driving the staples into his flesh. She repeated the process until the stiches were done, and applied ointment on them to soothe the inflammation.

“You are free to go,” Samantha said, turning to leave the room.

“Wait,” Soren called out and she halted in her tracks. “Take these,” he offered, presenting her the crystals he had stashed in his backpack.

“What are those?” a nurse asked.

“Essence crystals. They provide attributes and energy. Once you have absorbed enough of them, you will level up and gain an free attribute point.”

Samantha shook her head. “If I accept payment from you, everyone will try to pay for treatment, and we’ll eventually become a business instead of a clinic.”

“Don’t think of it as payment, but as necessity,” Soren urged. “You saw how tough my body became with a single point. Imagine how many more lives you could save if you stay awake that extra hour thanks to your increased vitality.” He held out the crystals.

Samantha hesitated briefly before accepting them. As one of the first responders to the shelter during the zombie onslaught, she had been tending to the wounded without break since yesterday. Nearly a hundred individuals had undergone surgery on this very table, most of them passing away on top of it. Lives hung in the balance, additional hours of rest being the difference between life and death.

“Thank you,” she said, her gratitude genuine. She was deeply thankful.

“I suggest you absorb them now while I’m here. It won’t take long, but the process is dangerous. I can guide you through it.” Samantha accepted the proposal and led him to her office. She stripped of her bulky medical attire and Soren noticed see the obvious signs of fatigue. Her hands, wrinkled and worn, bore the marks of constant abuse. Her movements were unsteady, and her back hunched.

“How do I do this exactly?” She held the grey orb in her palm, but, oddly, it wasn’t being absorbed. Fatigue was setting in. Samantha tried to keep her eyelids open through pure power of will, but she was fighting a losing battle. Hope was evident in her gaze as she examined the essence in her hands..

“Just imagine the crystal melding into your flesh an-” Before Soren had finished talking, the crystal had become gas. The mist delved into her pores, and a moan escaped her lips as she quivered. Any signs of exhaustion disappeared, and she almost leaped over the table to grab another cryst–

Soren slapped her arm away. Her mind snapped back, registering her uncharacteristic behaviour. She was hot. She wanted—no, needed—more, but she kept herself in check.

“Th-those are h-human essences,” she stuttered amidst waves of pleasure.

“Yes, they are the essences of my departed friends,” Soren answered, his shoulders dropping and his head lowering in nostalgia. Every subtle movement indicated his reluctance to delve further into the topic as if it was a painful memory, one he would rather forget.

“The pleasure is intense. Can you handle it?” he asked before she could continue with this conversation.

Samantha didn’t respond immediately, still lost in the waning embers. “No, I don’t think I can completely suppress it. But I have to try,” she admitted.

Soren searched for an indication of madness in her pupils but found none. Something hid deep within, whether it was conviction or avarice, he couldn’t tell.

“Count to one hundred, and this is yours,” he instructed, and the doctor began counting. She isn’t rushing, that’s good.

A second grey crystal landed on her desk, dissipating into mist at her touch. Despite the euphoric shiver that crawled over her spine, the doctor stayed composed. Soren detected no signs of corruption. Every subsequent crystal became incrementally easier to absorb.

As he went to give her another one she waved him off. “I’ve already leveled up,” she spoke, her smile dissolving the bags under her eyes along with the fatigue plaguing her body. Soren reciprocated the gesture before departing.

“Sorry for screaming at you. I was on edge and I snapped at you. You didn’t deserve it,” she apologized as he walked away.

“All’s well that ends well,” his voice echoed from the end of the hall.

“Don’t die out there,” she yelled, receiving no response. A grey essence wobbled on her desk.