Aren needed only a brief hesitation. In that moment, the balance of the wasteland as hunter became the hunted, predator became prey and the prey turned into something more dangerous. The alpha noticed Aren’s glowing violet eyes, it sensed the threatening power of the beast cores he had absorbed. Once again, the alpha of the shadow wolves, predator of the supernatural woods was frightened. The human in front of it was no longer weak; he was a new kind of creature. The alpha couldn’t comprehend or name what he faced. Black magic was building up in the alpha’s throat, but faded into harmless mist. The beast let out a low, defensive whine, tucked its tail, and ran into the darkness as quickly as its wounded leg allowed. Aren took a brief moment, letting the moment stretch. In the midst of the chaos, his breath was measured and deliberate. His predator’s instinct thrummed in his brain, anchoring him. He walked slowly toward where the beast had fled crouching low, allowing his fingers to

The ambush came from above. Aren barely processed the terrifying revelations from the beast's memory. His mind was still recovering from the vision of the god-like entity ripping the sky apart. The shadow wolf, stripped completely of its arrogance and driven entirely mad by the terror from the deep woods, had circled back. It was now a cornered beast, lashing out violently at the only thing it could safely kill in the forest. Aren’s predator’s instinct rang like a shattered bell. Aren didn't look up. He didn't waste time trying to confirm the threat. Instead,he threw his entire body forward, triggering shadow burst (advanced) at the last minute but he wasn't fast enough to escape. The massive jaws snapped shut with a that sounded like a detonating powder keg, closing right on the space where Aren’s head had been. As Aren launched himself backwards, the alpha's claws swatted downward in a sweeping arc. The claws grazed Aren’s left shoulder as he dove. The force of the blow was ut

The ground was tearing apart, resonating with the sound of millions of grinding bedrocks. Aren had less time to react as the floor of the cave completely disintegrated under him. The stone walls caved inward, and the ceiling collapsed. Gravity sucked him in. He was dragged into the darkness, swallowed by a humongous sinkhole that had opened in the earth. The air rushed past his ears with a deafening roar. All around him, massive chunks of the cavern some the size of carriages fell alongside him in the void. Aren was driven by the elevated receptors of his evolution so he didn't panic. His mind slowed the haggard descent into a series of calculated trajectories. He violently twisted his body mid-air, dodging a falling debris that would have crushed him. He reached out with his right hand, driving one of his daggers directly into the falling walls of the cavern t

Two eyes, each easily the size of a transport cart, slowly opened from within the void. They did not glow with the feral, toxic light of the wasteland monsters, they depicted malevolence, a cosmic hatred that had festered in the dark for so many years. The entity pressed itself against the other side of the doors. The unimaginable mass of the creature caused the entire environs to groan in protest. The chains left on the door didn't just snap, they began to disintegrate, crushed to fine gold dust. Through the exposed crack in the doors, the entity’s gaze scanned the ruins then directly at Aren but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled and he crashed onto the dais, his hands instinctively flying to his head as an overwhelming psychic pressure slammed onto him. He then heard something, but it wasn't a sound. It was an intrusion. A voice pierced directly inside the center of his mind. It sounded like glass sh

He walked passed the wealthy inner districts entirely. He had no business among the nobles in their mansions. Relying on his memory of the city's layout, he navigated the winding, increasingly narrow cobblestone paths that led steeply downward into the massive outer ring of Asteria. As he crossed the threshold into the slums, the atmosphere underwent a depressing shift. The air here didn't smell like the wasteland, it smelled heavily of rot, cheap burning coal and generations of inescapable desperation. Thousands of crooked, unstable shacks crowded together, built from rusted, corrugated sheets and splintered wood. The narrow, winding streets were rivers of foul-smelling brown dirt. Despite the rain, the slum was bustling. Desperate merchants huddled under patched canvas awnings, trying to sell scraps of tin and molded bread. Emaciated men and women hurried through the mud, their heads bowed low but as Aren walked down the main thoroughfa