The red glow in my vision pulsed again—three targets. Three monsters. Three weak points.
One in the neck, one at the knee, one under the ribs. All I had to do was strike true.
Easy to think. Hard to do.
My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest. My hands were trembling. The sword, though lighter than before, still felt like deadweight when fear gripped me like a chain.
But I couldn't just sit here. I had no more time. The open cavern gave me no cover. And I had no idea if these creatures could smell fear—or me.
I crept forward, timing my approach to the slow, dragging movements of the nearest monster. It moved like it had too many joints and no bones. Its limbs shifted with sick wet pops as it turned slightly, unaware.
I rushed it.
A shout ripped from my throat as I drove the blade into the glowing spot behind its neck—just like I saw. The metal sank in with a wet crunch, spraying me with thick, dark green blood. The creature let out a guttural hiss, its head jerking violently as if its muscles were convulsing out of control.
But it didn't die.
It screamed.
Louder than anything I'd heard in this world so far.
The other two twisted immediately, zeroing in on me, their bodies moving at an unnatural speed now.
"Shit—!" I tried to pull the blade out, but the creature collapsed on top of it, flailing.
One of the others lunged before I could free myself. A long, serrated arm raked across my side. I felt my flesh rip. Fire tore through my ribs as I screamed and shoved the now-dead creature off my sword, staggering back just in time to block another strike.
I didn't remember how I blocked it.
My body moved—reflex, instinct.
Still, I was bleeding. Bad.
The second monster snapped toward me again, but this time, I saw its weak point—right in the side of the knee. I dove low, gritting my teeth against the pain, and swept the blade through it. The leg collapsed with a loud crack, and I jumped up, plunging the sword into its core as the overlay in my vision pulsed again.
The second monster gurgled and died, slumping over twitching.
The last one was already on me.
No hesitation. No strategy.
I barely turned in time. Its claw raked down my shoulder and back, hot blood soaking my stolen clothes.
Screaming, I brought my sword up in a wild arc. I didn't see a weak point this time. I just swung.
The blade sliced through the monster's neck and it crumpled.
Three bodies.
One broken human.
I collapsed to one knee, gasping, trying not to sob. My breath came in ragged bursts. My side was on fire. My back throbbed. My blood left a dark trail behind me.
I fumbled for the potion. That single, swirling vial I'd clung to as a lifeline. The only thing between me and dying in this cursed place.
Now or never.
I popped the cork and downed it in one motion. It tasted like acid and ash, and for a second I thought I was going to vomit. But then warmth surged through my gut, spreading outward like light under my skin. The wounds on my ribs sealed slowly, the burning faded.
I wasn't good as new—but I could stand.
And then the strangest thing happened.
The moment I rose, I felt them.
Traces of the monsters I'd killed.
Memories—not full ones, but fragments. Emotions. Echoes of thoughts not my own. I staggered as they surged into me—overwhelming, unfiltered.
Pain. Rage. Hunger. Hunting.
And something else.
Sensation.
My hearing exploded outward like a sonar pulse. For a brief, terrifying moment, I heard everything—my footsteps bouncing off stone, the quiet bubbling of distant ooze, the hum of air through cracks in the rock, even the faint sound of my own heartbeat.
Too much. Too sharp.
I dropped to the ground, gripping my ears, the noise like razors. It faded, thankfully—but I could feel it waiting. That new sense, gained from the monster whose knee I had shattered. I could call on it… but I didn't yet know how to control it.
Another gift settled quietly in my skin—fortification. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. The cuts I took didn't go as deep anymore. My skin was harder. Tougher. Like some invisible shell had formed under the surface.
But the third monster? Nothing.
No power. No memory. Just a dead body, already beginning to rot.
I guess it didn't always work.
The sense of victory was fleeting. I wasn't suddenly good at fighting. I wasn't a warrior now. I'd killed beasts, not minds. Their savagery taught me more about how to endure than how to kill.
But I felt it in my chest—my mind was stronger. Colder. Like a chunk of my fear had been burned away.
Or maybe I'd just lost part of my humanity.
Not that I needed it here.
I took a breath and stood again. The pain was dulled now. The blood crusting on my side was already drying. I felt heavier, but more balanced.
More dangerous.
Still, I didn't go to the stairs right away.
Not yet.
I figured it out: every floor changed me. And if I was going to survive the next one, I needed to understand who I was becoming.
So I searched the floor.
I explored it for what felt like hours. Searching among the rocks, bones, and ruins of whatever this place once was. I found nothing valuable—no food, no more potions. But I found myself slowly adapting.
The eyes were the most useful. With them, I could discern the weak points in structures. I could track temperature trails on stone. I could see stress fractures in bone.
Everything was clearer now.
And slowly, fear became manageable.
I still felt it. It still lived in me. But it didn't command me anymore.
That was my job now.
I paused once more before the stairs to the next floor. My hand lingered on the hilt of my sword. My breath was steady.
The pain from earlier still pulsed faintly in my side. I remembered the moment I screamed and thought I'd die. I remembered what it felt like to be crushed, cornered, nearly broken.
But I was still here.
And I was ready.
I was even—God help me—looking forward to what came next.