Philosophy Building, Second Floor Hallway December 23, 2029, 7:00 PM
"Let's move out," Chika said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet it pierced the oppressive silence of Room 301 like a scream. He didn't feel like a leader, he feels more like a fraud, clutching a flickering match in a gasoline-soaked room, just waiting for the explosion.
He stood at the entrance, his palm resting on the heavy mahogany desk they had used to bar the door. The room behind him was a grim picture of despair: twenty-four civilians crouched in the gloom, their faces only faintly lit by the dying glow of a few phone screens.
Tunde, the security guard, wheezed in the corner, struggling to catch his breath amid the wet, rattling sounds coming from his chest as his Air affinity battled to cool his overheated body. Near him stood Afoma, gripping her makeshift scissor-spear, her pale face set in an expression of steely resolve.
But the team was preparing to step outside.
Chika, Paul, Abuchi, Kene Obiora.
Kene was panting heavily, flexing his fingers. A stocky, broad-shouldered man, he usually filled a room just by existing.
But at this moment, he looked as if he wished he could blend into the shadows. He kept glancing at his own skin, seemingly waiting for it to crack like parched earth.
"Kene, you'll take point with me," Chika instructed, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Paul, you're on the left. Abuchi, you'll cover the right. Ngozi?"
From the depths of the shadows near the door frame, Ngozi's voice emerged, tremulous yet clear.
She didn't meet their gaze; her eyes were locked on the dark corners of the ceiling, her pupils so dilated they removed the color of her irises.
"I'm here," she whispered. "I'll watch the back. This darkness… it's oppressive tonight. Like wet wool."
"Alright. Let's move out."
Chika nodded at Paul. Together, they nudged the barricade aside, making a narrow opening just wide enough for one person to slip through. One by one, they exited, leaving Chinedu to slide the desk back into place behind them.
The shift was unsettling. Inside Room 301, the warmth of bodies and the sound of breathing had created a certain atmosphere. The hallway, in stark contrast, felt dead. The "sprinkles of light" that had streamed through the vines earlier were extinguished, consumed by the weighty darkness of a post-apocalyptic night.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of the violence that had unfolded just hours ago, David's headless body still lay there, a dark mass on the floor.
[PHYSICAL SATURATION: 15%]
Chika glanced again at the number flickering in his vision. It is his lifeline, the one sliver of hope he clung to. The Metal Scout outside pulsed with a dense, heavy energy. Chika felt empty; he needed to fill that gauge. He have to become resilient enough to face what lay ahead and to save Judy… maybe even reunite with his family.
"Room 202," Paul murmured, gripping his knife in a reverse hold. "Let's check it."
They moved forward, Chika guiding them from memory, recalling the layout from the countless lectures he had rushed through over the past four years.
Kene walked in a heavy, grounded steps.If there was a beam, his skin that took on a greyish, dusty texture,will be noticed immediately [Stone Bastion] is active.
He isn't used to it yet, but practice makes perfect.
Chika burst into Room 202, kicking the door wide open. Gripping his stone tightly, he felt his heart pounding against his ribs. They were moving without clarity, relying on instincts that felt almost foreign.
It was empty, just overturned chairs lingering with the stench of blood.
"Clear," Chika exhaled, his relief evident.
They advanced to Room 203. Still empty.
Room 204. Also empty.
With every door they opened, the tension tightened like a noose. The heavy silence pressed down on them, amplifying their anxiety. Finding something right away would have been preferable to this agonizing wait.
"Every where cool"("It's too quiet,") Abuchi muttered. He was gripping his bloody chair leg so hard his knuckles were white. He tries to flash his signature grin, but it looked like a scarecrows...too bad nobody is seeing him.
" Where the mob dey" ("Where are the mobs?)I been think say spawn go surplus for night naa ? (I thought the spawn rate increased at night.)"No be so Dem take dey play games oo."(This isn't how the game is played.")
"Shh," Paul snapped, irritation surfacing. "This isn't a game, Abuchi."
They reached the hallway intersection near the stairwell, where the air felt noticeably colder, a draft sneaking in from the upper floors.
Above them, the drop ceiling tiles were mottled with stains. Dark, wet spots had seeped through the plasterboard.
Scritch.
It wasn't a footstep. It was the unnerving sound of something dry scraping against plaster, and it didn't come from below.
"Stop," Chika whispered sharply, instinctively raising his hand, only to remember they were cloaked in darkness.
They froze, the silence crashing back in around them, even thicker than before.
Tap... Tap.
"It's above us," Ngozi's voice broke through the oppressive quiet, sharp and losing its stealth. "Chika, point your stone up! Right overhead!"
Chika swung his makeshift weapon toward the ceiling.
CRASH.
The ceiling erupted downwards.
Dust, debris, and decay showered them. Chika staggered back, coughing and flailing his arms through the thick cloud of plaster.
He grasped something solid buried in the wreckage, a heavy metal pipe, his instincts screaming at him to defend himself.
Three figures descended from the crawlspace. They didn't tumble clumsily like the Shamblers they had battled outside. Instead, they landed gracefully on all fours, their limbs spreading wide to absorb the force.
The group felt disoriented, their eyes straining to catch sight of the enemies cloaked in shadow.
These creatures were scary. Humanoid, yet unnaturally elongated, as if pulled on a rack. Their limbs stretched far too long, bending at odd angles with extra joints.
Their skin resembled a deep bruise, purple and slick with mucus. No noses adorned their faces, just slits that flared as they inhaled the air around them.
And on their foreheads...
A single, faintly glowing light. A star.
Not bright, but a sickly, dim pulse, akin to a dying ember.
Chika's vision flared with the System tag, blue text searing into the darkness before him.
[CORRUPTED IDENTIFIED]
Name: Stalker
Class: Hunter
Rank: 1-Star
Threat Level: Medium
Speed : Slow
Chika's heart sank as he realized, "Hunter Class… They aren't Shamblers. These creatures have a classification."
The leading Stalker emitted a hiss, sharp and cutting, resembling the sound of ripping paper, before it lunged forward.
It moved with a speed Chika couldn't comprehend, slow my ass. One moment it was on the ground, the next, it soared through the air, its claws outstretched, zeroing in on Chika's throat.
"Kene!" Chika yelled.
Kene froze in fear. Lacking any combat training, he didn't strike back, instead, he threw his hefty frame in the creature's path, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the worst.
SKREEE.
The Stalker's claws scraped against Kene's chest.
Instead of tearing through flesh, sparks erupted, briefly illuminating the room. The noise was unearthly, akin to nails on a chalkboard. The Stone Bastion held firm.
Kene slid back a few inches, his boots screeching against the tiles, but he remained unscathed. The stone armor chipped and dust swirled, but there was no blood.
[Stamina: 35/150]
A notification flickered at Kene's periphery, but he is too preoccupied with survival to notice.
"Now!" Kene shouted suddenly, his eyes snapping open, a mix of shock and adrenaline on his face.
Chika maneuvered around his living shield, clutching a heavy metal pipe he had unearthed from the debris. He swung it towards the Stalker's head.
Channeling chaos energy into his swing, Chika conjured pain before the strike connected. He poured his fear and rage into the metal.
[SKILL: PAIN SPIKE] [STAMINA: 135/150 → 120/150]
The pipe collided with the side of the creature's head.
The Stalker screeched.
It was more than a cry of anguish; it sounded like the utter overload of its nervous system, a reset that resonated painfully in Chika's teeth. The creature writhed, its elegance destroyed by overwhelming agony. It pawed frantically at its own face, disoriented, rolling across the floor.
Paul intervened swiftly.
He emerged from the shadows like a wraith, his knife plunging into the base of the creature's skull.
[LAYERED CUT] [STAMINA: 150/150 → 135/150]
[Stalker Eliminated.... Saturation increased]
Stamina? When had that become a factor? Earlier, he had used this skill without any repercussions. Confusion raced through his thoughts, but his hand remained steady. The blade penetrated as if the bone were soft, slipping past the creature's natural defenses. The screech ceased suddenly.
One down. Two remaining.
"Abuchi! It's to your right!" Paul called out, using the sound of the skittering claws to guide himself.
The second and third Stalkers had bypassed Kene. One attacked Paul, engaging him in a chaotic dance of claws and steel, while the other targeted Abuchi.
Abuchi swung a chair leg in desperation, but his panic made his movements wide and ineffective. The Stalker ducked under the swing with ease and tackled him.
They crashed to the ground, sliding apart into flickering shadows.
"Get off! Get off me!" Abuchi shouted, thrashing against the creature.
It pinned him down, its weight oppressive and forceful. The Stalker's jaws unhinged, revealing rows of sharp teeth, snapping just inches from Abuchi's face, saliva dripping onto him.
Abuchi dropped his weapon. His hands flailed, struggling to push the creature off. His fingers found its cold, slick chest.
He pushed but was too weak. The teeth moved closer.
I'm going to die. Just like the manager.
A gnawing hunger surged within him, the emptiness he'd felt during the awakening resurfacing. A primal command.
Eat.
It wasn't a conscious decision; it was pure instinct.
[SKILL: VITALITY ABSORPTION]
Abuchi stopped pushing the creature away.
Instead, he clutched it tightly, his fingers sinking into its flesh.
Under his grip, the Stalker's mottled skin darkened, first greying, then turning deep black. The creature halted its assault, its hissing transforming into a baffled gurgle.
Visible veins of decay spread from Abuchi's grip, racing across the creature's torso like fractures in a windshield. The muscle beneath the skin started to dissolve, drawn toward Abuchi's palms.
The monster withered, losing its form as the muscles rapidly diminished, getting drained of life.
[Stalker Eliminated.... Saturation increased]
Abuchi pushed the remains away. It tumbled off him, as light as dried leaves... a stark contrast to its former heaviness.
[Temporary 50 points added to HP for 2mins]
He scrambled backward, moving like a crab until his back hit the wall. He stared at his hands, which glowed softly with a dark purple energy that faded into his skin. His eyes shifted to the desiccated form that resembled something long dead.
"I..." Abuchi choked. "I consumed it. I actually consumed it."
To his left, Paul dispatched the second Stalker with a brutal lunge through its eye socket, swiftly ending the confrontation.
[Stalker Eliminated.... Saturation increased]
Silence enveloped the hallway.
All three Stalkers lay lifeless.
Chika leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. The stamina drain from Pain Spike left him light-headed, a dizzy spell akin to low blood sugar. Yet they had endured, and their saturation levels had risen as well.
Paul's share surged to 21%, while his own comfortably settled at 19%. Abuchi's soared to 19% after bravely facing a stalker alone, matching his own percentage perfectly. Kene experienced a leap from 2% to 5%, and Ngozi managed to add 1% to her previously nonexistent score.
"We made it," Chika gasped. "Kene... you took the hit. Are you alright?"
Kene rubbed his chest as the stone skin faded away, revealing a uniform shirt that was torn to shreds, though his underlying skin was only bruised. He met Chika's gaze, a smile breaking through his earlier anxiety. "I'm tough. I really am tough."
"Hunter Class," Paul remarked, wiping his blade on his trousers. His expression turned somber as he regarded the slain creatures. "They were organized. They actually planned for us."
"I think it's an army," Chika suggested, focusing on the 1-Star mark on the forehead of the dead creature. "And we've just taken out their scouts."