2026-10-20 14:36:37The night air in the Rust was thick, smelling of sulfur and wet iron. Bima stepped over a pile of sodden rags, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The holographic display hovered in his peripheral vision, casting a faint, ghostly blue light over his knuckles.
[PROXIMITY WARNING: 20 METERS]
“Twenty meters,” Bima muttered, his voice barely a tremor in the darkness. “Okay. Okay, Bima. Just stay calm. Don’t be an idiot.”
He crept behind the skeletal remains of a transit shuttle. The chittering sound grew louder, a frantic, wet scraping of claws against rusted metal. He peered around the edge of the chassis, his eyes struggling to adjust to the gloom.
A shadow detached itself from the wall of the incinerator. It was a Feral Rat, bloated and distorted by the toxic runoff of the city. Its fur was patchy, slick with grime, and its eyes glowed with a predatory, sickly yellow hunger. It was easily the size of a grown man, its limbs elongated and twitching.
“That’s not a rat,” Bima whispered, his throat tightening. “That’s a nightmare.”
The beast paused, sniffing the air. Its nose twitched, and its head snapped toward Bima’s hiding spot.
[ANALYSIS: TARGET ENGAGED]
[ESTIMATED STRENGTH: GRADE-F]
[WEAKNESSES: CEREBRAL EXPOSURE, HIND LIMBS]
“Great,” Bima breathed, white-knuckling the piece of rebar. “It’s got a brain. Too bad I’m barely holding onto mine.”
The creature let out a low, vibrating hiss and lunged. It moved with unnatural, jerky speed, its claws sparking against the concrete as it closed the distance.
“Not today!” Bima scrambled backward, his boots sliding on a slick patch of oil.
The Rat’s jaws snapped shut, missing his throat by a fraction of an inch. The force of its leap sent it skidding into the corrugated siding of a storage locker. It recovered instantly, pivoting on its haunches, preparing for a second, more calculated strike.
“It’s fast,” Bima gasped, ducking into a narrow gap between two shacks. “It’s tracking my movement.”
[TACTICAL OVERLAY: PREDICTIVE TRAJECTORY ACTIVE]
A red line appeared on his retina, tracing the path the beast was about to take. It mapped the alleyway, highlighting a jagged, exposed pipe jutting out from the wall, its end sheared off into a lethal, spear-like point.
“Wait, that’s it?” Bima narrowed his eyes. “You want me to bait it into that?”
The Rat screeched—a sound like metal being shredded—and launched itself into the alley.
“Come on, you ugly bastard!” Bima shouted, throwing his weight toward the pipe. “Over here!”
The beast ignored the taunt but followed the movement, its predatory instinct locking onto the easiest target. It swiped, its claws raking across the air where Bima had stood a second before. Bima dropped to his knees, sliding through the mud.
He didn't look back; he didn't dare. He heard the wet thud of the creature landing, then the frantic, hungry scrabbling of claws accelerating toward him.
“Almost,” he grunted, reaching the base of the pipe.
He lunged upward, pulling himself behind the protrusion.
“Right there!”
The Feral Rat didn't stop. It launched itself forward with all its momentum, its focus entirely on Bima’s exposed flank. It didn't see the iron spike waiting in the dark.
Squelch.
The sound was sickeningly soft—a dull thud followed by the wet tear of muscle and bone. The Rat’s momentum carried it headlong onto the pipe. It thrashed for a second, its long, spindly limbs twitching against the metal, before going limp. A thick, dark fluid began to drip onto the alley floor.
Bima slumped against the wall, his lungs heaving. He stared at the carcass, his chest burning and his hands trembling so violently he had to drop the rebar.
“Did I… did I really just do that?” he wheezed, staring at his shaking palms.
He looked at the creature, then at his wrist. The black, geometric mark was pulsing with a steady, rhythmic violet light, glowing brighter than before.
[THREAT ELIMINATED]
[EXPERIENCE ACQUIRED]
[DATA POINTS: +10]
Bima blinked. “Data points? What the hell is a data point supposed to be?”
He stood up slowly, his legs feeling like lead. He walked over to the hanging carcass. The interface flickered, changing its output.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: DATA POINTS ALLOW FOR CORE UPGRADES OR SKILL ACTIVATION]
[CURRENT BALANCE: 10]
He reached out, his fingers hovering near the violet glow on his wrist. “So, it wasn't just a dream. This thing… it actually makes me stronger. It’s like a game interface, but with a body count.”
A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, heavier than any training session he’d endured at the Academy. He looked back at his shack, the metal door hanging slightly off its hinges.
“I was dead at the Academy,” Bima murmured to the silent alley. “I was a joke. A ‘Null’.”
He looked at the ten points displayed in his vision. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“But if this is the game,” he said, his voice gaining a newfound, jagged edge of resolve, “then I’m done being the NPC.”
He wiped a smear of blood from his cheek and turned his back on the kill. The night in the Rust was still young, and for the first time in three years, the hollow ache in his chest was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating hunger.
He walked toward his shack, his mind already racing. If ten points was the reward for a low-level pest, what would happen if he hunted something larger?
“Artemis,” he whispered, the name feeling like a secret on his tongue. “Whatever you are, you picked the right person. I’m not going to let this go to waste.”
He reached his doorway and stopped, checking the interface one last time.
[SYSTEM STATUS: STABLE]
[MISSION COMPLETE]
[WAITING FOR NEXT OBJECTIVE]
Bima stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The slums were dark and unforgiving, but as he sat down on his cot, the darkness didn't seem so heavy anymore. He wasn't just a failure from the Academy anymore. He was something new, something forged in the dirt, and he was finally, truly, awake.
He stared at the blank wall, his wrist buzzing with the hum of the system. Tomorrow, he wouldn't go looking for scraps. He would go looking for a reason to earn the next ten points.
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Chapter 8: Shadows of the Dungeon
The elevator descended with a rhythmic, bone-jarring screech, the metal cage swaying dangerously against the slick walls of the shaft. Bima clung to the rusted handrail, his knuckles white, watching the digital floor indicator tick downward into the negatives."Going down into the belly of the beast, huh?"Bima jumped, spinning around to find the Scout leaning against the far wall of the elevator. He hadn't seen the man enter, but there he was, idly checking the charge on his kinetic rifle."How did you get in here?" Bima asked, his voice tight."I told you, I handle the logistics," the Scout said, not looking up. "You’re heading into a pressurized dead zone. You don't think they’d send a green recruit in alone for a high-value core retrieval, do you? I’m the chaperone. Try not to embarrass yourself."Bima grit his teeth. "You didn't mention a partner.""Plans change. Usually when the variables are as volatile as you," the Scout replied, finally locking eyes with him through those tin
Chapter 7: An Unexpected Offer
The cold air of the Black Spire’s lower egress bit into Bima’s skin, a sharp contrast to the humid, sweltering heat of the arena floor. He hadn't realized how much energy the spar with Kael had sapped from his system until he leaned against the soot-stained exterior wall, his breath hitching in ragged intervals.The Scout—the man who had approached him in the shadows—stood a few paces away, lighting a small, chemical-stick cigarette. The embers glowed with a sickly, synthetic green hue. He didn't look back as he spoke."You look like hell, kid," the Scout said, exhaling a plume of acrid, neon-tinged smoke. "I’ve seen plenty of hopefuls walk out of that deck, but most of them aren't standing upright."Bima wiped a smear of drying blood from his temple, his fingers brushing the pulsing violet mark on his wrist. "Most of them don't have a reason to stay standing.""Fair point," the Scout chuckled. He turned, leaning against the cold steel of the perimeter fence. "Look, I’m not here to co
Chapter 6: Breaking the Tempo
The air in the arena tasted like scorched ozone. The white-hot sphere of energy in Kael’s palm crackled, the sound akin to a hive of angry hornets. Bima’s vision was flooded with glowing red vectors—the system’s desperate, high-frequency warnings screaming for him to move, to roll, to pray."You're done, trash!" Kael screamed, his face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated arrogance."You're overextending, Kael!" Bima shouted back, his voice surprisingly steady despite the violent thrumming in his chest. "That move is going to burn you out before you even touch me!""Shut up!"Kael didn't wait. He thrust his hand forward, releasing the concentrated blast. It wasn't a precision strike; it was a chaotic wave of raw kinetic force, intended to level the section of the arena Bima occupied.Bima didn't scramble backward. He leaned into the encroaching heat, his feet shifting on the rubberized mat as if he were catching a heavy weight. His wrist—that dark, shifting geometric ink—pulsed
Chapter 5: The Training Ground
The iron gates of the Black Spire loomed over Bima like the jaws of a titan, cold, black, and utterly indifferent to his existence. He stood in the shadow of the massive structure, the digital timer on his retina counting down the final seconds until his scheduled meeting with Valentina.[MISSION: SURVIVE THE SPIRE][TIME REMAINING: 00:00:14]“You’re late,” a voice drifted from the darkness of the gatehouse.Bima squinted, his heart hammering against his ribs. A pair of Enforcers stepped into the spill of light, their kinetic rifles held at the ready. They were armored in matte-black plating that seemed to absorb the dim ambient glow of the city.“I was told to come at midnight,” Bima said, his voice steady despite the dry static vibrating in his throat.“Commander Cruz left word,” the first guard barked, his face hidden behind a polarized visor. “She says you’re to be escorted to the primary sparring deck. Try not to embarrass her, kid. She doesn't like wasting her time on charity ca
Chapter 4: Unlikely Encounter
The mist in the alley didn’t just hang; it clung, heavy with the metallic tang of industrial waste and the lingering scent of ozone. Bima watched Valentina’s back as she walked, her stride rhythmic and calculated. Every movement she made was an insult to the chaotic, messy life of the Rust. She was too clean, too sharp, and far too dangerous to be standing in a place like this.Bima didn’t follow immediately. He stood rooted, his pulse thrumming against his wrist where the violet mark still glowed with a faint, phantom heat."Are you coming, or do you plan on waiting for the next patrol to find you?" Valentina didn't turn around, her voice cutting through the damp air like a blade.Bima exhaled, his lungs feeling tight. He stepped forward, his boots crunching over debris. "You didn't answer my question. Why me? There are thousands of kids in this city with cores that actually work. Most of them have more credits than I do."Valentina stopped near a rusted drainage pipe and turned. The
Chapter 3: The Scavenger's Debt
The morning sun didn’t penetrate the Rust. It just cast a sickly, jaundice-yellow light over the scrap-heaps and leaking pipes, turning the damp smog into a thick, suffocating blanket. Bima stared at his hands, still stained with the dark, viscous fluid of the Feral Rat.He dragged the heavy, stiffened carcass across the grit of the alley floor. It felt lighter than it should have, or maybe he was just starting to feel different. Every time his wrist pulsed with that violet hum, his muscles seemed to coil with a new kind of tension.He reached the heavy steel shutter of 'Silas’s Salvage,' the only place in the sector that traded in monster parts. He slammed his fist against the metal."We’re closed, kid! Get lost," a gravelly voice barked from behind the door."It’s Bima," he called out, his voice rasping from the night’s exertion. "I’ve got a Grade-F carcass. Fresh kill. Are you buying or not?"The shutter rattled upward, revealing a room that smelled like formaldehyde and rotted mea
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