Victor stood alone in a clearing deep within the twisted forest, away from the prying eyes of his so-called teammates.

  Moonlight filtered through gnarled branches overhead, casting strange, writhing shadows across the blood-stained grass where he'd just dispatched three Ashen Chimeras. Their corpses had already disintegrated into motes of light—particles that reminded him of fireflies caught in a jar. The eerie glow hadn't fully faded, illuminating his pale hands with an unnatural, pulsating radiance. His fingertips had darkened to an obsidian hue since absorbing the chimeras' essence, and fine ash-colored veins now branched beneath his skin.

  The effect was less than ideal, but in a world of monsters and magic, perhaps aesthetics and appearance simply weren’t important.

  The monsters' EXP Solutes had changed him in ways the others would notice if they were paying attention. His canines had lengthened further, and the whites of his eyes had taken on a faint amber tinge that intensified when he activated his new Bloodthirst Aura—a power stolen directly from the chimeras' natural abilities. The skill pulsed through him now, enhancing his already formidable tracking abilities and flooding his system with predatory awareness.

  He had always been a lone wolf, and it seemed as though his approach was paying off.

  Hunting alone accelerated his transformation, given that the EXP Solutes weren't diluted by sharing kills with the others. Every monster he dispatched solo pushed him further from humanity and closer to apex predator status.

  That was the point, of course—to evolve beyond human limitations.

  With the flick of his wrist, he summoned his glowing blue stats screen. It blipped to life in front of him, glitching slightly as it did, but he didn’t care.

  Level 8.

  Not bad.

  He studied it with the calculated focus of a marksman reviewing ballistics data. Satisfaction coursed through him as he allocated his newly acquired AP, watching the numbers shift and solidify. His progress was undeniable. In just a day since being transformed, he'd adapted to this world with an instinctive ease that surprised even himself. Where others stumbled through their newfound immortality, he'd embraced it like a well-maintained weapon—something to be mastered, utilized, and ultimately wielded without hesitation. The vampire abilities complemented his military training perfectly—the predatory instincts sharpening his already keen situational awareness, the heightened senses amplifying his aim, the calculated violence now unrestrained by human limitations or military regulations.

  He ran his tongue over the sharp fangs that still felt foreign yet increasingly natural, like combat gear that had finally been broken in after a long deployment.

  Victor's thoughts drifted to his "teammates," a collection of liabilities he was forced to drag along with him in this new life. Particularly Ace. The former Marine represented both a useful ally and a potential obstacle. Their shared military background created an unwelcome connection, a familiar cadence in their movements that spoke of similar training, similar experiences.

  But Victor recognized something in Ace's eyes that marked him as fundamentally different—a reluctance to embrace what they'd become. A hesitation to kill that would inevitably hold him back, like a sniper who couldn't pull the trigger when it mattered.

  That analyst Rachel was practically useless, flinching at shadows and overthinking simple tactical scenarios. Marcus was annoying but his mind-reading abilities had potential, a useful reconnaissance tool if properly directed. Olivia remained an enigma, her graceful movements suggesting training that went beyond civilian experience.

  Only Tara, with her healing abilities, seemed worth keeping close—a field medic was always an asset, even if her softness toward others represented another potential weakness.

  The oppressive stillness of the forest suddenly intensified. The twisted trees seemed to lean inward, sentinels closing ranks around him, and even the ambient sounds of night creatures fell silent.

  Victor sensed rather than heard the presence materializing behind him—a slight pressure change in the air, the faint scent of something like cotton candy mixed with copper pennies.

  The unmistakable signature of the System.

  He didn't turn immediately, as she wasn’t a true threat. If she had wanted him dead, she would’ve killed him already. Instead, he followed the discipline of never abandoning a task half-complete and finished allocating his points before acknowledging her arrival.

  Some habits from special forces training never died, even when the soldier himself had.

  "Watching me again?" Victor asked, his back still to the System as he closed his status window with a dismissive flick of his wrist. The holographic interface dissolved into whispers of blue light that scattered like startled insects. "I'm starting to think you have a favorite."

  The System's childlike giggle echoed unnaturally through the clearing, seeming to come from everywhere at once—behind him, above him, inside his skull. The sound crawled across his skin like thousands of tiny spiders before she stepped into his peripheral vision. Her small form, draped in a color-shifting dress that rippled between crimson and midnight blue, belied the ancient malevolence he sensed beneath the surface. Even the grass wilted where her bare feet touched it.

  "Perhaps I do," she replied, twirling a blonde curl around one finger with calculated innocence.

  The gesture reminded Victor of interrogation subjects trying to appear harmless.

  “You’re curious,” she continued. "Most of your kind waste precious time weeping over their lost humanity or forming pointless attachments. It's all so tediously predictable—like watching the same training exercise performed by recruits who keep making identical mistakes."

  Victor finally turned to face her fully, his enhanced vision capturing the unnatural depth in her crimson eyes—ancient windows into something vast and unknowable masquerading in a child's form.

  "Let's cut the foreplay," he said, voice flat. "We both know you're here about the Crucible."

  The System's expression flickered—surprise, then delight. "My, my. Someone's a smart cookie, isn’t he?" Her smile stretched wider than anatomy should allow. "And here I thought I was being so mysterious."

  “You’ve never appeared to me when I was alone,” he pointed out. “I figured it had to be about something important.”

  "Clever man." She paced a tight circle around him, leaving a trail of frost-killed grass in her wake. "But you’ll need more than bravado and brains to survive the Crucible."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Victor maintained his stillness, tracking her with minimal eye movement. "I'm guessing you didn't materialize just to state the obvious."

  "Direct. Efficient. I do appreciate that about you." The System stopped circling, her small form suddenly motionless in a way that violated natural physics. "You’re so close to Level 10, Victor. That's a key checkpoint. At this rate, you’ll get there first—and I’ll be able to tell you more juicy details about it once you get the map that will take you to the crypt where the Crucible happens.”

  The former mercenary crossed his arms over his chest and, for a moment, lost himself in thought. He needed intel. He needed to know what he would face in there, as well as what he had to kill in order to get enough power to survive the challenge.

  If she was coming to him now, maybe she really did have a soft spot for him. Maybe, just maybe, he could get her to tell him.

  Hell, it was worth a shot.

  Before he could say anything, she rose into the air before him until they were eye to eye and leaned in, until her button nose almost touched him. She was so close that she went cross-eyed, and she flashed him a wicked smile with too many teeth.

  “I think you’ll get there first,” she admitted in a sinister whisper. “Before the others. Before Ace.”

  Victor suppressed a smirk of victory at the thought.

  “Now,” she continued, backing away. Still hovering, she paced in circles around the small clearing, walking even though her feet never touched the ground. “The real question isn't how quickly you can reach Level10, my dear Victor —it's whether you're prepared for what waits inside."

  The air between them distorted as the System raised her hand. Shadow and light coalesced above her palm, forming three-dimensional projections of creatures more nightmare than reality. Each manifestation rotated slowly, showcasing anatomical details that seemed designed specifically for inflicting maximum trauma.

  "Fleshstitchers in the eastern quadrant of the forest," she said, as the first projection—a familiar and grotesque humanoid with too many limbs ending in serrated appendages—rotated above her palm. "Their EXP Solutes will enhance your speed. You'll need it to evade the traps."

  “I’ve killed plenty already,” he said with a shrug. “Why do I need to kill more of them?”

  “Their EXP Solutes build on each other.” She tilted her head and stared at him as though that were obvious. “Duh.”

  The image dissolved, replaced by a massive bear-like creature with skin that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. "The Nightmare Bear in the northern caves. Challenging, but worth it. Its essence will strengthen your connection to the Shadow Realm—crucial for navigating the Crucible's third chamber."

  Victor memorized each target's details. "Any more?"

  She giggled. “I love the enthusiasm.”

  The System's smile widened as the final projection appeared—a crimson-armored scorpion the size of a bus, with three barbed tails and multiple serrated pincers. Ten eyes glowed from the depths of its hideous face.

  "At least seven Blight Scorpions,” she said with a nod to the small creature in her hand. “A nest of them carved out territory in the desert beyond the western ridge.” Her eyes glittered with malicious delight as the projection rotated, showcasing the creature's deadly anatomical precision. "Its barbs poison and eat away at anything they sting. Quite painful for its prey—quite valuable for your evolution."

  “Interesting,” Victor admitted.

  The mercenary studied the creature's movement patterns, already calculating engagement strategies and kill zones.

  “Very,” the System agreed. "Its EXP Solutes will grant you armored skin—subtle red-orange plating in strategic locations. Tactically speaking, it's like having body armor that can't be removed or lost in combat." She traced her finger through the projection, highlighting the creature's segmented joints. "It’s absolutely critical for the Crucible's fire chamber."

  “Noted,” Victor said darkly.

  "These monsters," she said, her voice suddenly serious, "aren't on any map. Their locations aren’t accessible to just anyone. That’s why I’m telling you about this, Victor dear. These are places where someone with your… talents... could advance far more quickly than others. All you need to do is operate alone. No party. No shared EXP."

  The offer hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Victor knew accepting would mark him as hers in some way, but the potential gains were too significant to ignore. Power in this world was clearly tied to what a man killed and how quickly he leveled, and what she offered would accelerate his progress exponentially.

  That meant no healer. No allies. His plan to cut the weak ones loose and keep the strong ones wouldn’t work out.

  No matter.

  This was still an easy choice.

  “I operate best alone,” he admitted. “So that’s no problem.”

  “Oh, how delightful!” she said cheerfully. The projection in her palm vanished, leaving the clearing darker than before. "And one last thing—do try to incorporate a few humans into your diet. Their solutes will keep you presentable."

  She gestured vaguely toward his face, her small hand tracing the air near his features. He leaned back, not wanting her to touch him, which only made her float ever closer until she finally—irritatingly—booped him on the nose.

  “We need you to stay pretty,” she continued. "Consuming only monsters has certain aesthetic side effects over time. My little game can make people pretty damn ugly, Victor. Just wait until you meet Marius.”

  He had no idea who that was, and frankly, he didn’t care.

  Victor shrugged, the suggestion provoking no more moral response than a recommendation to change tactical gear. "Efficiency matters. Appearance doesn't."

  "So practical!" The System clapped her hands together. "Though you might reconsider when you're trying to blend into vampire society. The lords and ladies do so value their appearances—centuries of vanity are hard to overcome."

  He scoffed.

  Pass.

  Her features shifted subtly, and he could no longer read her expression—it was a strange blend of delight and disgust. "There's something else you should know. A secret that would significantly increase your operational effectiveness in the Crucible."

  "I'm listening."

  "The final chamber contains a choice." The System's voice dropped, all pretense of childishness evaporating. "Most never reach it. Those who do are usually too weakened to make an informed decision. But you..." She hovered closer, her eyes seeming to look through him rather than at him. "You could reach it with sufficient strength to choose wisely."

  "What choice?"

  "Between the vast treasures and loot that lie in the Crucible’s center… and the power earned through obeying me." The System's expression became unnervingly serious. "The Evolutionary Keystone isn't the only artifact hidden in there, Victor dear."

  “What else is there?”

  She paused, and for a time, he thought she wouldn’t reply. He kept her gaze, his expression blank as he called her bluff.

  She wanted to tell him, but she probably wanted him to beg for it.

  He wouldn’t, so instead, he waited.

  Sure enough, she eventually cracked. "Most choose immediate power. The human instinct for instant gratification rarely disappears, even in vampires. But patience... patience yields greater rewards for those disciplined enough to endure temporary disadvantage."

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It is,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You’ll see.”

  Huh.

  The System was clearly manipulating him, and he had never been one to play games.

  "Why tell me this?" he asked, maintaining his steady demeanor.

  "Because," she said, voice dropping to a register that seemed to vibrate through his bone marrow. "I'm bored with the tedious predictability of desperate creatures scrambling through my carefully constructed killing fields." She traced a pattern in the air that left momentary trails of darkness. "Every cycle, I have to watch players make the same pathetic choices, the same predictable failures. You can only watch so many millennia of identical mistakes before the game is no longer fun."

  Her smile returned with sudden, jarring intensity—too wide, too many teeth arranged with inhuman precision.

  "Or, perhaps, I recognize in you what I've spent centuries cultivating—a perfect instrument of calculated violence, unburdened by human morality. Perhaps I recognize something in you worth nurturing. Something I've been waiting for."

  Before he could ask her anything else, her tiny frame dissolved into motes of darkness. Her final words hung in the air, and for once, he was left speechless.

  "Choose wisely, Victor Cross.” Her voice vibrated again through everything—through the forest, through his brain, through his very bones. “I'll be watching with great interest."

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