Godseed Ascension System

8

Kael’s grip tightened on the bag, his pulse steady despite the threat looming before him. With his newfound ability to assess energy levels, he could feel Herold’s power radiating—a Gifted, and a formidable one at that.

“Still mad about the Vatalis bottle?” Kael smirked, blood dripping down his chin. “But why? It was never yours for the taking.”

Herold’s face twisted into a venomous snarl. “I fucking hate your kind,” he spat, stepping forward, the tension in his movements clear. “I can’t wait to taste your Vatalis, you Gifted piece of shit.”

Kael raised an eyebrow, almost amused. Herold despised Gifteds when    in reality, he was one himself. “Tell you what,” Kael said, his voice low and calculating. “You can have the bag, but I still need my head.”

“Fuck you, you little piece of shit. Do you think you have the upper hand here?” Herold growled, his energy crackling as he prepared to strike.

Kael’s smirk faded, and for a split second, he stopped pretending to be fearless. His heart was racing, but he wasn’t backing down. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t have the upper hand. I have the upper KICK!”

Without hesitation, Kael kicked the bottom of the bag, sending it soaring through the air. In one fluid motion, he jumped, snatching it from mid-flight, and immediately sprinted away, the bag secure in his hands.

“See you around, Gifted,” Kael grinned back at Herold, his words dripping with defiance.

Herold’s roar of fury echoed in the cavern. “This isn’t over!” he shouted. “The bag has been taken!” His voice carried over the chaos, and the fighting prisoners halted their brawls to turn their attention toward Kael, joining in the chase.

But Kael was faster. With each stride, he distanced himself from the fury behind him, the rush of adrenaline pushing him to move even quicker.

[Host is advised not to run on a straight platform.] The system’s voice chimed in, calm and analytical.

“Noted,” Kael grunted, sweat beading on his brow as he pushed forward. Without missing a beat, he shifted direction, weaving through the open arena in a zigzag pattern. His enemies, now closing in, struggled to adjust to his erratic movements.

The zigzagging thing was working—at least he hoped it was. He had no clue how long he’d been running, but his legs were on fire, and his lungs felt ready to give out. Still, he kept going, forcing himself to push harder. If he could just put enough distance between him and the lunatics behind him...

That’s when the system decided to pipe up, calm as ever, like it wasn’t him doing all the work:

[Host has exited the red zone and is now outside enemy territory.]

Kael almost tripped. “Oh, now you tell me!” he huffed, glancing back over his shoulder. He was in the clear, apparently—but it sure didn’t feel like it.

Stopping, Kael collapsed against a nearby tree, panting and gasping like his life depended on it. His chest heaved, and his sweaty fingers gripped the bag like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. For the first time since this whole nightmare started, he allowed himself to think. Did I really pull that off?

Sure, the system had helped, but it wasn’t like it did all the work. Kael had to rely on his own wits—his own desperation—and somehow, he’d stood up to a bully. Okay, so technically, he ran away. But still, it was different. So much different from what he used to do, what he used to endure with his brothers: their constant hate, their cruel taunts, their relentless bullying. For years, he’d taken it like a weakling.

The thought made something in his chest tighten. Why didn’t I stand up for myself back then? he wondered bitterly. Maybe if he had, none of this would’ve happened.

His spiral of self-reflection didn’t last long.

[Host is advised to keep moving. Threat level is moderate.]

Kael groaned, throwing his head back against the tree. “Yeah, well, tell that to my legs. I can barely stand right now,” he snapped, his voice a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

The system stayed silent for a while, and for some reason, Kael took that as a green light to rest. His body finally gave in to exhaustion, and he drifted off, leaning against the tree. Even in sleep, his grip on the bag remained iron-tight, as if letting go of it would undo everything he’d fought for.

But rest wasn’t a luxury he could enjoy for long.

From somewhere in the distance, a low, rumbling growl cut through the quiet of the forest, followed by the faint scrape of claws against stone. It wasn’t loud, but after everything he’d been through, Kael’s instincts were sharp enough to pick it up immediately. His eyes shot open, groggy but alert. “What the hell was that?” he muttered groggily, rubbing his face as he tried to shake off the haze of sleep.

[Threat update: Beast-class entity detected. Host is advised to remain still.]

Kael froze. “Wait, what?” His brows knitted in confusion. “Shouldn’t I run?”

[Unlike the previous threats, beasts in this area are few but extremely lethal. Their abilities can match your current level-one Godspeed, meaning…]

Kael let out a sharp breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m toast whether I run or not,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes darted to the bag in his lap, the thing he’d risked everything for. “What about this?” he asked, shaking it lightly. “Anything in here that can help?”

[The bag’s contents can aid in fulfilling your basic human needs, but it is not adequate to defend against a beast in your current state.]

“Great,” Kael hissed under his breath, leaning his head back against the tree. “Just great. I get to die clutching a bag of snacks.”

Just as he shut his eyes, trying to steady his nerves, he felt it—hot, heavy breathing brushing against his skin. The shift was instant, like a flash. His entire body tensed, every hair on his neck standing on end.

Kael’s eyes snapped open, and what he saw froze the air in his lungs.

Towering over him was something beyond anything his mind could have conjured, a creature that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a nightmare.