“Spike!” Lucas yelled again, and the large spear bolted from his arm and extended as if it were a claw. He rammed it towards the wolf’s side, and the wolf jumped off, releasing his arm. But before it could get too far away, he nicked its leg.

  The blasted beast took a shaky step back and growled. Apparently, his attack had barely fazed it. It lowered its head, letting out a hot breath with steam curling from its jaw—a feisty thing, to say the least.

  It lunged at him again, claws scratching, and he batted it aside. But it was on him again in moments. He yelled, jabbing at it with his spike, missed, and then its jaw sank into his leg, and it began pulling at him, trying to put him on the floor, but he wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t.

  Screaming, he raised his arm into the air and slammed it down. The wolf, as if realising the damage it would cause, released Lucas’ leg and tried to move out of the way.

  He was quicker.

  The spike slammed into its shoulder, punching clean through it and embedding itself into the carpet. The wolf whimpered, leg at an awkward angle, as it tried to pull itself free. Though its eyes cleared of pain an instant later and it started gnashing at him again.

  As he wrenched his arm back, the spike slipped from its flesh with a splat of blood, and he screamed again, slamming the spike forward before the wolf could move. He slammed over and over, the wolf’s body crashing into the carpet and jolting with each of his hits.

  After a few moments of screaming and punching, he stilled. At his feet lay a bloody pulp of fur and bone. Its ribs protruded from its chest, cracked and dripping with blood. Lucas sighed, his nerves fried, as he took a shaky step back.

  “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” he muttered, the brutality of the encounter settling in.

  He gripped himself, body shaking. Killing it had taken a lot. Though he couldn’t exactly feel the sensations the way he would have if he’d been physically there, the muted sense still nauseated him.

  The violence of it all—it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The fight in year six again played in his mind. He’d never been like this, even on the playground. Millen had beaten him to a pulp. The boy had swatted away any resistance he’d tried to put up as if Lucas were a baby.

  A soft whimpering came from behind him, and Lucas glanced back. The German Shepherd tilted its head at him and whined.

  “It’s okay,” he said, raising a hand. “It’s dead now. Everything is gonna be fine.”

  Though that wasn’t entirely true. The crow was still cawing, even now, and was no doubt summoning others. That sobered him up.

  Quickly stepping away from the corpse, he turned and moved towards the window, slapping it fully open and sticking his head out. The crow, seeing a metal husk pop out, was no doubt terrified and flapped away, moving into the distance. There wasn’t much he could even do to it, though the creature seemed to prefer playing it safe rather than risking its life.

  “That won’t give us much time,” he muttered, moving himself back into the room and glancing over at the door.

  The wolf had completely broken it; the wood was shattered and lay in chunks over the carpet. No repairs would be possible. Sure, he could move into another room. But a heavy thud coming from downstairs dispelled that idea, with the sound of groaning metal. They’d found him. The crow had done its work well.

  Shuffling past his capsule, Lucas moved to the door and peeked out into the hallway, the light in the hall still flickering. What could he do? If he went downstairs, two wolves and a boar would assault him. The boar was far tougher than a wolf, and he’d probably be in much more pain.

  Stepping back into the room, he moved towards his capsule, but then a notification popped up as soon as he passed the wolf’s body.

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  SYSTEM MESSAGE

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  | Would you like to harvest the corpse?

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  His eyes widened. Harvest? What did that even mean? Would it provide something for him?

  As the idea settled in his mind, something bubbled up within him—a word filled with meaning and purpose. He levelled his gaze at the corpse, and the text box faded, words bubbling free past his metaphorical lips.

  “Harvest.”

  On the floor, a circle filled with runes manifested. The glow from it lit the entire room in a bluish light as the circle began spinning. The next moment, a column of white engulfed the wolf’s corpse, and in a flash it shrank down, the circle disappearing, the corpse with it.

  There on the floor left behind were two claws, a hide, and what looked to be a blueprint of some kind. Lucas frowned, stepped over, and scooped the glowing white paper up off the floor. Bringing it to his eyes, another word bubbled free from within him.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Inspect,” he said, as if commanding reality to obey.

  A system screen flashed to life an instant later.

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  Flameback Helm - Blueprint (Standard)

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  |Rank: Novice - 1

  |Effects: +1 Armour

  |Innate Words: Flame Extinguish

  |Material requirements:

  - 4x Flameback Claw

  - 2x Flameback Hide

  - 1x Firetusk Tooth

  ══════════◆◇◆══════════

  Lucas frowned. So, the system was like a game. He had to kill to gain resources he could use to make equipment. But this was of no use to him. A helm—could his puppets wear it? He sure as heck wouldn’t. To fight those things with his bare hands would be insane.

  He glanced down at his leg, at the indent in the metal. If that had been his actual leg, the wolf would have torn clean through his flesh, probably dragged him to the floor. It would have killed him. No, he wouldn’t be fighting anything with his actual body.

  His gaze shifted to the German shepherd, who still sat by its dead master. How could it put up a fight against any of these things? He was pathetic compared to the dog. Though he accepted that. Because that would be his strength. He knew his limits, and he’d do his best not to test them.

  Stepping back over to the capsule, he debated what to do next, the door downstairs still thudding heavily. He could run, but would he make it downstairs before they got to him? Though, then again, he could always hold his ground on the stairs and fight them off.

  His gaze flickered over to the bedside table. The thing looked heavy and seemed reasonably thick enough to block the stairs, though it would probably serve better as something he’d shove down the stairs as those creatures came up.

  Another heavy bang from downstairs—the sound of metal tearing, screaming as the boar no doubt raged against it. Yeah, it would make it up. But then, blocking it with the table hardly seemed like it would stop it for long. After all, the creature was breaking through a fire door, something usually pretty sturdy.

  Lucas’s gaze then shifted from the table to the window. Would he be able to make a jump like that? Two stories. He’d seen it done on videos before, parkourers jumping from crazy heights and somehow not mangling their legs when they landed.

  He almost chuckled. If he tried that, he’d probably end up in the hospital, and from the looks of it, if the ambulance was gonna come, it wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t know the current state of the world, but the warped streets spoke of something that was no doubt impacting everyone. The situation wouldn’t stabilise for some time.

  Another heavy bang, followed by the clattering of bolts, came from downstairs. Lucas stepped over to the bedside table and examined it briefly, his hands clutching at the sides, then he heaved, trying to lift it. It didn’t budge, and he frowned. The metal body he was currently using wasn’t any stronger than his own. If anything, it seemed a little weaker.

  He stepped away as another bang came from downstairs. The dog growled, its eyes locked onto the door as it moved in front of its master. Even though she was dead, it still wanted to protect her. What a loyal dog.

  Lucas stepped away, levelling his gaze at the capsule, then shaking his head. There was nothing for it—he’d have to fight. Those animals would be up the stairs in a few moments, and he doubted they’d give him time to even try to jump out the window. And then, if he did, they’d be on him far before he could recover, if his legs didn’t break.

  Stepping out of the room, Lucas made his way into the hallway and up the stairs. “Spike,” he muttered, but found the power he’d summoned earlier didn’t come. As he stopped at the top of the stairs, he raised his arm in confusion. Why hadn’t it worked?

  He stood there at the top of the stairs, frozen in shock. The power had seemed so dependable, as if it would be there as long as he was in this form, yet now—

  Downstairs, the ruined door slammed onto the carpet with a heavy thud; growling and snorting followed soon after.

  A boar then rounded the corner, its beady eyes snapping up to him as it let out a squeal. The boar seemed annoyed that it had to fight so hard to get in, just to see a scrawny-looking meal up top.

  With a huff, it lifted a hoof and turned, charging up the stairs, though it didn’t build up enough speed and even stumbled on some steps as it climbed. Behind it, the wolf followed, though with the tightness of the stairs, they could only move in single file.

  Squaring himself, Lucas raised his fists. He’d have to do this without the help of the spike and figure out why it wasn’t working later.

  The boar lunged at him, and he dodged its first strike, tusks passing an inch from his arm. He then jabbed forward with a punch, the memories of his uncle’s boxing lessons ringing home. The fist slammed into the boar’s jaw, and it squealed, swishing its head back towards him. He stepped aside and jabbed towards it again, landing with a crack to its snout.

  The boar stumbled back, its crushed snout widening as it let out a sharp huff, as if it was tired of the games. It then leapt forward, swinging its head wildly back and forth, tusks scraping into the walls, knocking out small clouds of dust, chunks of stone scattering onto the carpet, some of them falling down the stairs.

  Lucas leapt back, even as the boar continued flailing its head, no longer having him in its sights and probably just hoping to do some damage.

  He took a breath, picked his moment, and then charged back in again, just as the boar’s frantic swinging stopped. He cracked one fist into the right side of its head, then slammed another into its snout, and as the creature tried to regain its footing, he dug deep, thrusting the power through his mechanical hips and driving an uppercut straight into its jaw and sinking into its skull.

  It tumbled head over hoof, falling down the stairs and slamming into the wolf. But even as it fell, he raced after it, shuffling downstairs as fast as his feet would allow without tripping. He leapt with as much aggression as he could muster, the air whipping past his metal face. He needed to deal as much damage to the wolf as possible before it could even get up.

  Then suddenly, something within him clicked, and the words slipped free.

  “Spike!” he screamed.

  From his arm, the spear shot out, jutting to its full length. He slammed his fist down and into the wolf’s head, even as he landed. The spike punched clean through it and pinned the beast to the carpet. It didn’t even let out a whimper as its mangled head slipped down the metal and thudded onto the dark fabric, blood spilling free. He gasped, body still dealing with the aftershocks of the force he’d just landed with.

  It wasn’t bad in the way it should have been. If he’d done that in his normal body, he’d probably struggle to even stand. He glanced back—he’d jumped from what, the middle of the stairs? A force like that would have definitely put him on the floor for at least a few minutes, and then he’d probably shakily climb to his feet to rest somewhere. A hospital visit wouldn’t have been out of the question.

  But now, his gaze drifted to his metallic knees. They didn’t even twinge with pain.