Akira stared at the corpse.

The dirt around it was loose, as if it had been hastily buried. The body was intact—no visible decay, no scavengers having picked at it yet. A young man, probably in his twenties, with an expression frozen in fear. His clothes were torn, stained with blood. Whoever he was, he had died violently.

Akira clenched his fists. He had no idea where he was, no idea what this System truly was, but one thing was clear: he had been given a power.

And it wanted him to use it.

He took a slow breath, pushing aside his hesitation. If he had been reborn—or whatever this was—then the rules of his old life no longer applied. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

“What now?” he muttered.

The words answered him.

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[Skill: Raise Undead]

[A body is required. Do you wish to proceed?]

Akira exhaled.

Let’s see what this does.

He reached out toward the corpse. The moment his fingers brushed the cold flesh, something shifted. A sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before surged through him. It wasn’t warmth, wasn’t energy—it was absence, an unnatural void that pulled at something unseen.

The air grew heavy. The mist thickened.

Then—

The corpse twitched.

Its fingers flexed. Its chest rose, taking a breath that no longer belonged to it.

Then, slowly, it sat up.

The young man’s eyes snapped open, but they weren’t human anymore. The pupils were gone, leaving only a dull, lifeless gray. His expression was empty, devoid of thought or recognition.

Akira stepped back instinctively, but the undead did not move beyond that first motion. It remained still, waiting.

Then, the System’s voice echoed in his mind again.

[Undead Raised.]

[Lesser Thrall Created.]

Akira let out a slow breath. “Lesser Thrall… does that mean there are stronger versions?”

No response.

He studied the undead carefully. It wasn’t rotting, at least not yet. The body seemed mostly intact, though the way it sat—stiff, unnatural—made it clear that this thing was no longer human.

A thought occurred to him.

“…Stand up.”

The undead obeyed.

Akira narrowed his eyes. So it follows commands.

Then another thought surfaced, darker this time.

He glanced around. The graveyard was silent, desolate. If he had been dumped here after dying, then it stood to reason that others had been too.

His gaze drifted back to the fresh dirt around the thrall’s grave.

“…How many more are buried here?”

The mist swirled at his feet, as if answering his question.

And for the first time since waking up, Akira felt something close to a smile.