Reality fractured around Kain like shattered glass, the forest dissolving into nothingness as his consciousness plummeted through layers of perception. The meditation technique that had served him countless times in his previous life had somehow pierced the veil between worlds, thrusting him into a dreamscape unlike anything he'd experienced before.

  A vast desert stretched before him, endless dunes rippling toward the horizon under a sky of molten copper. The air hung heavy and still, devoid of the forest's ambient sounds, replaced by a silence so profound it pressed against his eardrums like a physical force.

  Kain looked down at his hands, expecting to see the calloused palms and scarred knuckles of a veteran hunter. Instead, small, soft hands greeted his gaze—a child's hands, unmarred by combat or hardship, yet stained with crimson streaks that glistened wetly in the harsh light.

  [Heart of the Storm: Resonance Active]

  Are these mine? he wondered, turning the delicate hands over in fascination and horror. My current body's childhood self? Or echoes of my original form before I became a hunter?

  Blood dripped between his fingers, pattering onto the sand below in perfect droplets that neither dried nor sank into the ground. Each crimson splash hung suspended just above the dried desert floor, defying gravity with unnatural persistence.

  Could this be Heart of the Storm causing these visions? Otherwise, why would the System say that... Kain thought, his tactical mind struggling to categorize this experience. The Sap Vein showed me glimpses of potential futures, but this... this feels different. Connected, perhaps, but fundamentally altered.

  The ground beneath his feet trembled suddenly, a low vibration that rapidly intensified into violent shuddering. Sand particles danced across the dunes, forming intricate patterns that resembled System interface elements before dissolving back into chaos.

  Panic surged through him—a foreign sensation for an S-Rank hunter accustomed to facing monstrosities without flinching.

  Can I die in this state? Is this physical danger or psychic backlash? I can sense an energy signature approaching. Fuck me, it's strong; I can't even tell where that's coming from.

  Kain's gaze snapped to the horizon, where massive thunderheads had begun to gather, boiling up from behind a distant mountain range with unnatural speed. The clouds weren't merely dark—they seemed to absorb light, creating a void in the fabric of reality that spread across the sky like spilled ink.

  Movement caught his eye—thousands of tiny shapes pouring down the mountainside in a living avalanche of desperate flight. Even at this distance, their terror was palpable, a collective panic that transcended species as predator and prey alike fled together from something worse than their natural enemies.

  The storm intensified, lightning arcing between cloud formations in patterns too geometric to be natural. But this wasn't ordinary lightning—instead of brilliant white-blue electricity, these bolts manifested as tendrils of absolute darkness, negative light that carved wounds in reality itself.

  Kain narrowed his eyes, focusing what he could of his hunter's perception on the storm's epicenter. A figure emerged from the churning maelstrom, neither floating nor flying but somehow existing in defiance of natural law. Dark electricity crackled around this entity, connecting it to the ground far below through writhing tendrils of anti-light.

  What am I seeing? Kain wondered, his child's body trembling with a fear his adult mind couldn't suppress. Is this the future? An alternate timeline? Or something the System itself fears?

  Kain's questions had no answers; there were only more questions. The figure moved with terrible purpose, each gesture sending ripples through the dreamscape that distorted time and space. Though its features remained ambiguous, shrouded in darkness and distance, its awareness suddenly seemed to lock onto Kain with predatory intensity.

  Without warning, a lance of black lightning erupted from the figure, crossing the impossible distance between them in less than a heartbeat. Kain raised his blood-stained child's hands in a futile gesture of protection as the dark energy streaked toward his chest. Despite the gravity of the situation, Kain only had two thoughts.

  Why on earth are my hands bloody?

  For fucks sake, this death is going to be painful.

  "—GAH!"

  Kain bolted upright, a gasping cry tearing from his throat as consciousness slammed back into his body like a freight train colliding with a building. Cold sweat drenched his skin, his heart hammering against his ribs with such force it seemed likely to burst. The Lightning Dao within him surged in response to his panic, tiny arcs of electricity dancing across his fingertips and illuminating the rock overhand in brief, erratic flashes.

  "What? What happened? Are you okay?" Lyra's voice cut through his disorientation, her hand already on her knife as she scanned for threats.

  Kain forced his breathing to slow, wrestling the Lightning Dao back under control as reality reasserted itself. The overhang. The forest. The Integration. Present danger rather than prophetic visions.

  "Yes," he managed, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. "Fine. Just a strange dream."

  Sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, morning having arrived while he'd been lost in the vision state. Birds—or what had once been birds before the Integration transformed them—called to each other with metallic voices that echoed through the transformed woodland.

  Despite the violent awakening, Kain felt surprisingly rejuvenated. His muscles, sore from yesterday's combat, now hummed with renewed vigor. The Lightning Dao flowed through his pathways with increased potency, as if the vision had somehow accelerated his energy recovery beyond normal parameters.

  Whatever that vision had been, it had somehow strengthened his connection to the Lightning Dao.

  Kain stood, brushing dirt from his clothes as he surveyed their makeshift camp. "Let's go make you that knife," he said, changing the subject. "It's probably the best way to ensure your further progression."

  Lyra's expression immediately brightened, her earlier concern replaced by eager curiosity. "How do you even know how to make a knife?" she asked, gathering her few belongings. "Did you do some kind of blacksmithing before the Integration?"

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

  A faint smile tugged at Kain's lips. "Nothing so specialized. My father taught me basic survival when I was young," he replied, the fabrication coming easily. "Said a man should always know how to stay alive in the wilderness."

  Technically not complete bullshit, Kain thought as they began making their way toward the clearing where they'd stashed additional parts of the Rfit Hog before their battle with the Blood Harvesters. None of us had fathers in the traditional sense; the colony elders believed if a hunter had family ties, he was not prepared to die for the colony. But the veteran hunters were close enough to a father figure.

  God those bastards were brutal with their training regiments. "Build a shelter with one hand tied behind your back, Hunter-13!" "Craft a spear using only rocks as tools, Hunter-13!" Assholes. But effective assholes.

  The memory brought as unexpected wave of nostalgia. Those veteran hunters had shapes him into the survivor he'd become. Three weeks in hostile territory with nothing but a dull knife and his wits—that had been his graduation exam. Half his class never returned.

  I wonder if any of those bastards exist yet in this timeline. Most were probably unborn or just children now. Strange to think I might outlive my own instructors.

  "Basic survival, huh?" Lyra's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Must have been one hell of a 'basic' if you think you can forge an actual weapon."

  "You'd be surprised what you can make with the right materials," Kain replied. "Besides, I'm not talking about forging a sword. Just fashioning something better than that glorified toothpick you're carrying."

  His mind drifted back to the combat training that had complemented their survival skills. The Eight Thundering Limbs. What a pretentious name for "hit the other guy harder and faster than he hits you." Still, there was elegance in the simplicity. Fists, elbows, knees, and feet—no wasted movement, no flashy techniques, just brutal efficiency.

  I never considered channeling the Dao energy through the strikes before. Would electricity amplify the impact? Or would it disperse on contact? Maybe concentrate the charge at the point of impact? Fuck, why didn't I think of this when I was actually fighting the hog? Too busy not dying, that's why.

  The thought was tantalizing. In his previous life, he'd relied primarily on his bow and hunting tools. Direct combat had been a last resort. But now, with his evolving Lightning Dao and the physical capabilities of the Stormstrider class, close-quarters

  "Here we are," Lyra announced as they reached the hollow log where they'd secured their spoils from the Rift Hog hunt.

  Kain nodded, pushing his theoretical musings aside for the moment. "Let's get to work."

  The next hour passed in focused silence as they gathered the necessary materials: the monster core they'd extracted from the Rift Hog, its crystalline structure pulsing with residual energy; several sturdy vines with unusual tensile strength; and most importantly, one of the hog's tusks—shorter than its main weapons but wickedly sharp along its inner edge.

  Kain laid everything out on a flat stone, his movements methodical and precise. "The key is binding the core to the handle properly," he explained. "Monster cores aren't just energy sources—they can enhance a weapon's properties if integrated correctly."

  Not quite the auto-fabricators we had in the colonies, but this'll have to do. At least I'm not trying to build a railgun from scratch... yet. Wouldn't that be a fun surprise for whatever apex predator rules this forest? "Surprise, motherfucker! Science beats teeth every time."

  However, guns were never appreciated by the System. Despite their raw destructive power, there were barely any skills or progression paths tied to firearms. Elder Toren had this whole theory about it—said the System intentionally limited technological weapons because they created too much imbalance. "The System seeks equilibrium through challenge," he'd drone on during mandatory philosophy sessions. Apparently, pulling a trigger doesn't qualify as personal growth in the System's eyes. Probably why all those military bunkers with their armories got wiped out in the first wave, while primitive survivalists actually thrived.

  Lyra watched intently as Kain began shaping the handle, weaving the vines into a tight pattern around a section of hardwood they'd collected.

  "The core goes here," he indicated, hollowing out a small depression in the center of the handle. "When you grip the knife, your palm will press against it, creating a direct connection between your energy and the weapon."

  "Will that hurt?" Lyra asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

  Kain shook his head. "No, but you'll feel it—like a slight vibration or hum. The connection grows stronger with use." He carefully placed the core into the depression, then continued wrapping vines around it, securing it firmly in place. "In time, the weapon becomes an extension of yourself."

  Just like my old bow. Took three months of daily use before it stopped feeling like a tool and started feeling like another limb. Wonder what happened to it after I died? Probably distributed to some rookie who had no idea how to use a weapon with that much history.

  With the handle complete, Kain turned his attention to the tusk. Using a smaller, sharper stone, he carefully shaped the base to fit into the handle, occasionally testing the fit until it slid in snugly. The tusk's natural curve created a blade that resembled a karambit—deadly for slashing attacks and perfect for someone of Lyra's smaller stature and agility-focused build.

  "Final step," Kain said, reaching for a hardened resin they'd collected from one of the transformed trees. He heated it with his [Lethal Voltage] until it became malleable, then applied it generously around the junction where tusk met handle. "This will set hard as stone once it cools."

  [Crafting Complete: Curved Fang (F-Rank+)]

  [Properties: Slash Damage +12%, Retention of Monster Properties, Resonance Ready]

  [Hidden Property Detected: ???]

  Resonance Ready? Now that's interesting. Never saw that property on entry-level gear before. Either the Integration rules are different this time around, or there's something special about this Lyra girl. Could explain why she's survived this long without a proper weapon or combat skills.

  When the resin had cooled, he handed the finished knife to Lyra. The weapon was deceptively simple in appearance—a curved, ivory-colored blade extending from a handle wrapped in dark green vines, with the faint glow of the monster core visible between the wrappings.

  "It's beautiful," Lyra whispered, turning the blade over in her hands. The morning light caught the edge, revealing a sharpness that could slice through hide and muscle with minimal resistance. "I've never owned anything like this."

  "Try channeling some of your energy into it," Kain suggested. "Just focus on the core, imagine your power flowing through your palm and into the weapon."

  It probably won't work on the first try. Took me weeks to master basic energy channeling. Most people need formal instruction before they can—

  Lyra closed her eyes, her grip tightening slightly on the handle. For a moment, nothing happened—then a faint golden glow began to emanate from the vine wrappings, spreading slowly along the curved blade like liquid sunlight.

  Her eyes snapped open, wide with astonishment. "Kain! Look!"

  Kain looked over at the curved blade as a System message danced above it in the familiar blue-white box.

  [Weapon Resonance Achieved]

  [Hidden Property Revealed: Primal Affinity]

  [Skill Unlocked: Tusk Strike (I)]

  Holy shit. Primal affinity? That's... rare. Extremely rare. Most natural affinities don't even manifest until E-rank at the earliest. And Primal wasn't even among the common ones. In my time, Primal fighters were practically mythical—coveted by every colony for their unparalleled ability to survive and coexist with life outside the walls, they didn't survive in the colonies, though.

  Lyra stared at the notification, then at Kain, her mouth hanging open in shock. "I leveled up. I've... I've been given a choice," she stammered, the golden light from the blade illuminating her awestruck face.

  This changes everything. A Lightning User and a Primal Fighter working together... we might actually have a fighting chance in this hellscape. If she can develop her affinity fast enough, we could push through the early Integration periods more quickly than I'd dared hope.

  Kain maintained a neutral expression, careful not to reveal the full significance of what had just happened. "Well then," he said with deliberately measured interest, "looks like you've got some decisions to make."