CW: Gore

  The night grows deeper and I work on my spells. I cut my hand again, healing it. I take apart the bits of shadow I took from my once-parasite. Step by slow step, I build a knowledge base.

  It’s a lot. The patterns are intricate, granted by the system. My spells and understandings are crude imitations, like a caveman comparing an especially comfortable to hold rock to an industrial steam hammer.

  They’re not the same, but they serve the same function. I understand the principles. Hit a thing, and hit it hard. That kind of logic lets me simplify the healing spell even more, until the horribly complex patterns slowly become manageable.

  My mind becomes stronger as I practice, and I simplify the spell, boiling it down to its most essential ingredients. Slowly, but surely, I get closer to recreating it. Only a matter of time.

  But before I can finally get there, I allocate my points from the recent level to vessel, bringing it to 37. It strengthens my mana, and the ease at which I sense it. The metaphysical world opens up even more to me. It’s thrilling. And I pour the magical power into my skills, learning, improving, practicing.

  [Deconstruction 4 > 5]

  With that, my newest skill overtakes [Solidification]. I should be doing more with that skill, really. I’ll get there, though. For now, I just focus, and practice as the hours drift by.

  And then, midnight comes.

  [Congratulations!]

  [You have survived the third stage of descent. Fourth stage of descent imminent. Prepare.]

  The world darkens. My senses are eclipsed by that nothingness that creeps in, blanketing everything in a thick, impassable veil.

  [Descent limitations lifted. Integration into floor structure. Armament supply granted.]

  And things change. Like before. But by now, my senses were better. I can feel it. Mana pours in from the sky. I look up as the darkness slowly lifts, and there are more eyes now. I feel the ripples. The mana quivers in the changes of the world.

  It’s terrifying. My heart beats in my chest. I smile, welcoming it. Descent limits lifted? Then people from higher floors will be coming here. Powerful people. Terrifying people. Armament system? That sounds like weapons and armor, maybe charms. I wonder what kind of magical items there will be.

  Can I make more of them? Can I take them apart, and learn from them? I want to know.

  Even as my heart beats and I feel like I might die, I want to know. Even as people descend who can kill me, I want to know. Maybe I’ll pick them apart, too. My thoughts get interrupted.

  Footsteps.

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  My head whips around at the sound. I look in the direction of the footsteps. They’re heavy. This isn’t someone who’s trying to hide their presence.

  I grip my axe more tightly, readying myself. Gently, I [Suppress] my heartbeat. It quiets down, and I even out my breathing, making it seem like I’m asleep. Slowly, gently, I close my eyes, relying on what I can hear, smell, and feel.

  Someone enters the clearing. It sounds like they have two legs, bipedal. I hear them walk in, stop, and then their gaze drifts over us. Nothing else. A shiver runs down my spine. I’m sure they analyzed me, but I can’t tell. I didn’t feel their mana, but I’m very sure they checked out my level and class.

  But they are a void to me. No mana leaks from them, not a single drop. The mana in the air fluctuates around them like it always does. I want to know how they do it, but I don’t dare select them.

  They step further in, and I hear them touch the water. It splashes, just slightly. They click their tongue.

  More footsteps, as they walk over to where Opal sleeps. A sound, metal faintly rustling against metal. Are they wearing gloves? Testing Opal’s sword? I hear them click their tongue again, disapproving.

  Footsteps, a pause. Footsteps. Pause. Again, and again, until they’re in front of me. I know they’re there. I try not to breathe too loudly. Just hoping to not be noticed. They reach down. I can feel heat emanating from them.

  Their hand stops just before my face. It feels like a distant bonfire. Slowly, it gets hotter. After a few seconds, it feels like I’m close to a fire. I wait more. The heat increases. It goes from uncomfortable to painful, but I keep my eyes closed. Breathing a bit faster, simulating unruly sleep.

  My skin begins to blister and bubble. It hurts.

  “Open your eyes,” they say. The voice is melodic, calm, inviting. I keep them closed.

  They move closer and my skin burns. Blisters crack. I think I can hear myself sizzle. It smells of cooking meat. I set my jaw, holding back a scream of pain.

  “You’re awake,” they whisper, cruelly. “Open. Your. Eyes.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my lips together, and enduring. No skills, nothing. My flesh melts, bit by agonizing bit. My eyeball begins boiling, I think. It hurts and I feel tears gather on my face, but I hold down the scream.

  Then I can’t do it anymore. Against my will, I feel [Suppression] activate. A tiny, internal cast, just to reduce the pain, and it works. Thank fuck it works. The pain gets better. I keep my eyes shut.

  “Look at me,” they demand. “I need you to look at me!” they hiss.

  Not a peep, not a noise, not a blink. My eyes stay shut, my mana doing tiny little circles inside to suppress the pain, even as the smell of burnt hair and cooking meat spreads. Not a noise.

  I hear them click their tongue, angrily this time. Then they pull their hand back. Footsteps, as they disappear. I wait, for a long, long while. Maybe the footsteps were just an illusion. I keep my eyes closed, only [Suppressing] the pain as my flesh slowly, horribly, begins to cool.

  That’s the worst part. When the heat is gone, that’s when the pain really sets in. But still, I don’t dare cast my healing spell. Someone might still be out there.

  Only when Inu rushes to me in the morning, shaking me, asking me to wake up, do I finally let myself scream.

  I try to open my eyes, and the left one is seared shut. It hurts, so, so bad, but I can finally [Suppress] it properly. I breathe, heavily, then I throw up on the ground. It’s miserable. I feel bad, worse than I ever have, but I also know who to get revenge against. Who to fuck up.

  [You have caught the Eye of the Flametouched.]

  My newest sponsor sure has gone out of their way to make me hate them. Just they wait. I’ll frick them up.

  Full of anger, I cast my first healing spell. My focus fails. The spell implodes. My left eye opens, and droves of blood pours out. I’m in agony, and the target’s notification hovers in front of the one eye I can still see out of.

  Fucker.

  [Descent limitations lifted. Integration into floor structure. Armament supply granted.]